Craving Hope In The Ruins
Everyone carries an abandoned place situated in the ruins at the bottom of
their heart where is a no-man’s land waiting a new hint of green to grow.
The story may goes the opposite way with the use of the
ruins in the poem of The Ruined Cottage by William Wordsworth.
Her journey ventures into this forsaken territory to retrieve the
disappearing culture in the ruins in Ningbo, in the southeastern coast of China.
While she gazing through the ruins, those shattered bricks, broken tiles and crumbling concrete that
litter the landscape of the soul morph into something new, something live.
In this story, broken tiles transform into ivy that crawls up the rough surface of the walls with its strength.
Each tile, once a fragment had been piling up on the roof,
becomes an ivy-shape leaf, staggering together to grow a tapestry of green.
The semi-detached beam that broken away from the main building
morphs into waterfall pouring down from the heights above.
The tendency of the waterfall seems nothing can stop it.
She begins to reassemble these debris, not into what once was, but into something beyond the ruins.
Ruins embodies an inevitable temporality occurring only between now and the future
as the aftermath of monumental incident in history.
At the meantime, an individual’s life is equally remarkable and monumental.
By the time ivy sends out tendrils and leaves, the reassembled pieces of our inner ruin transform.
We may have no garden in the real life, but we could wait the abandoned place within us to become a garden.
Everyone carries an abandoned place situated in the ruins at the bottom of
their heart where is a no-man’s land waiting a new hint of green to grow.
The story may goes the opposite way with the use of the
ruins in the poem of The Ruined Cottage by William Wordsworth.
Her journey ventures into this forsaken territory to retrieve the
disappearing culture in the ruins in Ningbo, in the southeastern coast of China.
While she gazing through the ruins, those shattered bricks, broken tiles and crumbling concrete that
litter the landscape of the soul morph into something new, something live.
In this story, broken tiles transform into ivy that crawls up the rough surface of the walls with its strength.
Each tile, once a fragment had been piling up on the roof,
becomes an ivy-shape leaf, staggering together to grow a tapestry of green.
The semi-detached beam that broken away from the main building
morphs into waterfall pouring down from the heights above.
The tendency of the waterfall seems nothing can stop it.
She begins to reassemble these debris, not into what once was, but into something beyond the ruins.
Ruins embodies an inevitable temporality occurring only between now and the future
as the aftermath of monumental incident in history.
At the meantime, an individual’s life is equally remarkable and monumental.
By the time ivy sends out tendrils and leaves, the reassembled pieces of our inner ruin transform.
We may have no garden in the real life, but we could wait the abandoned place within us to become a garden.