this blue, that blue 此蓝非彼蓝

Is a woman with blue lips and blue hair an avant-garde modernist? To some, she is not. To people like my mother, she is very much so. I could hear my mother scream in fear and anger if she were to see my lips and hair blue.

My mother’s daughter, I, however, approach this woman with blue lips and hair, and ask her if I can take a picture of her.

Slightly flattered by my attention, the woman with blue lips and hair is happy to be “copied” in my lens.

That is at the the entrance to the DC Chinatown Metro.

After that,  I go two levels down and I find another blue: A man with a hat in a wheelchair, waiting for the same train I am waiting for. In that dim light and with that hat and the passengers passing by him, he seems more blue than the woman with blue lips and hair.

somehow blue starts to follow me. When I get home and notice the last sunlight of the day caress my bathroom sink, then leave without warning, all I see is blue.

中国城地铁口,看见一个蓝头发黑皮夫女人抹着蓝色唇彩,忍不住问能不能拍照。

我还说,地铁口的光线打在她脸上,特别好看,她的唇彩和发型及颜色很特别。

女孩当然很乐意我给她拍照。

我记住了女孩的蓝色。

下两层电梯,到地底下,不意竟看到另一种蓝:昏暗的光线里,轮椅上的男人戴顶圆帽,其他乘客与他擦肩而过。每个人都沉闷。除了地铁,便是沉寂。稍慵懒的、蓝色的沉寂。

这个蓝色,尾随着我。

回到家,看到夕阳从洗手盆上的水珠悄然褪去,整个过程似乎都是蓝色的。

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