越来越多的有关乡村记忆呈现在画作中，我不能肯定自己保存了多少诸如蟋蟀、知了、螳螂以及众多草虫的生存细节，或者它们因为环境的改变是否还有我熟视的模样。生活在远离蛙声或草虫鸣叫的都市，心有时离间得像飘浮的粉尘。
莫名地那些儿时爱捉弄的小生灵逐一来到了我的眼前，从画笔中跳跃起来，依旧像数十年前的活泼身段，我有些惊奇地发觉笔触是因它们而生的。知了傻傻的仍然是木呆呆地供人玩弄，它只活泼在被捕的一刹那，毫无意义地扑腾挣扎在网兜里，之后便再也无力像被驯服的玩物，固执地缓缓地永远朝前爬行，丛林中的一切风月便永远与它了无因缘，即便被放生，它也好像已然踏上了不归路。我在笔端怅然若失它依附在手指的乖巧，那羽翅好像并不长在它身上，它与蓝天白云近在咫尺，却永远坠落在人间。
京城的楼房越来越密集，透过楼与楼的缝隙永远看不见天的空阔，整日灰蒙蒙却了无云烟雾霭的迷离与诗意。《戏蝉》一画中有孤雀滑翔，仿佛枝摇叶落，以为看见了争食的蚂蚱；螳螂有些警觉地在幕后观望，它总是那般探头探脑的样子。因为它们，小小的一张餐桌被夸张成一个田野的世界，瓜果在鲜艳地腐朽。盛宴后的一切繁华和孤寂分属不同的族群，却在同一幕宣泄着快乐和忧伤。
我疑心自己的身所。
偶有机会回望那曾经熟悉的原野、山沟、浅壑，不再藏有儿时躲闪着的神秘。牧归的儿时伙伴渐渐有些迂腐老态，露着牙痴痴地笑，了无往昔的顽皮与嬉戏之态，天依旧泛着湛蓝，日光白闪闪地照耀着大地。
乡村的美在真正被遭遇的时刻却悄然褪色了。
有浮云的天空依旧静悄悄地守候着风月，时光流转在身与身外，画中人知晓画中的世界纯然是我荒诞和虚无的作为。他们的喜乐哀愁如同我看见蚂蚱争食的贪婪，螳螂本有的胆怯和警觉，以及孤雀低鸣的深邃，支离在一个混淆的视界中。
因此画面有了疑问，也因为疑问有了画面，关于疑问的种种非分之想犹如粉尘漫天飞舞，有时也澄明清亮。
城市阻隔了另一片天的湛蓝，与贪食的蚂蚱、警觉的螳螂在一起的人们，浑然不觉如同这个小生物世界的种种样态，蓦然又见是怎样的一种活泼呢？
遗忘了听风听雨不知道算不算好。
雷子人
2006年10月1日于望京海岸楼Cricket,CicadaandMantis(asForward)
BychanceIrevisitedtotheoncefamiliarchampaign,valleyandravinewithnolongerthemysteryglitteringinmychildhood.Onthebackway,thosechildhoodfriendsgraduallylookedalreadyfatuousandold,andshowedtheirivorieswithouttheleastnaughtyandfrolictheyusedtobe.Skyblueandclearasever,dazzlingwhitesunshinesontotheearth.
Morevillagememoriesappearinmypaintings.IcannotassurehowmuchlivedetailsIhavereserved-cricket,cicada,mantis,etc.Dotheystillkeepthefamiliarlooking,orchangewiththeenvironment?Theurbanlifeawayfromfrogandgrassinsectmooingsometimescanalienateone'sheartlikeasfloatingdust.
TheinsectsIplayedinchildhoodreappearoneafteranother-theyreappearedundermybrush,asaliveandkickingasdecadesago.SurprisinglyIdiscoverallthesebrushstrokesbornforthem.Theplaythingcicadawasstillslow-witteduntilthemomentofbeingcaught.Itflouncesmeaninglesslyinstringbag,thenwithallthestrengthlost,itbecomesgraduallytameanddocile,butstillclimbesforwardslowlyandpersistently.Breezeandmooninjungleisnolongertodowithit.Evensetfree,itcanneverreturntoaformertime.ForthatIfeelalostonthecicadaundermybrush.Asanappendageofmydexterousfingers,itwearsapairofverisimilitudewings.Itissoclosetotheblueskyandwhiteclouds,whiledestinedtodropontoearthforever.
ThroughthespaceinbetweentheincreasinglycrowdedbuildingsinBeijing,onecanneverenjoyabroadview.Theskyisforevergrey,butthecloudandmistpresentsnottheleastblurredpoetry.In<CicadaGame>,asparrowglidesthroughweavingbranchesandfallingleavestocatchthefood-scramblinglocustsbehind,withoutknowingavigilantmantiswatchingafterwards.Becauseofthem,asmalldiningtablegetsmagnifiedintoanopencountry,wheremelonandfruitripeinbrightcolor.Theflourishingandlonelinessbehindthefeastbelongstodifferentcommunities,butjointlyrelievetheirpleasureandgratificationwithinthesamescene.
IsuspectwhereIam.
Thebeautyofvillagequietlyfadesoutatthemomentofrealconfrontation.
Theskywithfloatingcloudsilentlywatchesthewindandmoonasever.Timeflowsinandoutofone'sbody.Thefiguresmustknowthatworldinpaintingsisnothingbuttracesfrommyridiculousandvisionaryacts.Theirjoyandsorrowisfragmentedinaconfusedvisiontogetherwiththegreedyoffood-scramblinglocustscrambling,theinstinctivecowardandvigilanceofthemantis,andtheprofoundnessofthetwitteringlonelysparrow.
Sothescenebearsquestion,andthequestionresultsscene.Allinordinateassumptionsonthequestionsometimesflyalloverskylikeash,sometimessettledowntobecleanandclear.
Thecityobstructapieceofbluesky.Peoplelivewithgreedylocustandvigilantmantisknowingnothingaboutthevariouslookinginthissmallecosystem.Whatasurpriselifeiftheyseeitbyaccident?
Goodornot,Iforgettohearwindandrain.
LeiZirenHaiAnLou,WangjingOct1st,2006