Rivers will always remain in my heart - 2014

Rivers, the veins of the land, flow incessantly day and night, and thus humanity has often been possessed by an inexplicable longing towards rivers.

I was born by the South Bank of the Pearl River. In my childhood, the sirens of the steamers traveling to and fro on the river have always impressed me. Shortly, I left my hometown with my godfather and went to Chalon-sur-Saône, a place with many castles and old mansions with red roofs. I usually chased after the exuberant sheep at the Colline de Fourviere, imitating along the young ones, the calls to their mother. The ringing of the night bells at the cathedral always left me with an inexplicable sense of admiration. By the time I returned to my parents’ side, I had already become a contemplative adolescent. After school, I loved to stroll and linger by the Yangtze River, and l isten to the murmuring of the rushing torrent. I would be moved to tears whenever I heard the song titled, “Guest From Afar, Please Stay.”

Years later, on a dark night of dismal chaos, I lost my loving father whom I revered. On the next day, as I drift alongside the river nervously, I was hit by the dawning of my independence; reflecting on the crimson and murky water dyed by the sunset, I realized my lifelong goal worth fighting for.

Hence, I carried my bags, heavy with painting tools, to seek what lies within the depths of the Yellow River. The soulful chanting of “Flower” by the shepherds penetrated the wilderness and relieved my pensive thoughts. I used the thaw from Xia River to wash away the nostalgia from the previous night’s dream. I indulged in the delightfully fresh yogurt made by an old grandma. When the first ray of sunlight glistened through the mist-shrouded Muztagh Ata at the golden marsh by the river of Tashkorghan, I would burst into simultaneous harmonies with the Tajik singers playing the gijak.

I arrived at Dunhuang by ways of Tianshui, Wuwei, and Anxi. With greed, I lingered in the Thousand Buddha Caves in search of the glorious times of the past. Under the faint glow of my flashlight, I fervently copied the paintings on the walls, hoping to be accepted into this magical kingdom of art. At twilight, I opened my arms and ran relentlessly towards the endless Shu-le River at the great Gobi. The water lay gently on the distant horizon like an incandescent silver chain, luring me to pursue the dream imparted to me by the river. Once, I was listening to the metallic tune from the yurts in New Barag, Inner Mongolia while I observed the Kherlen River being engulfed by powerful nightfall. Letting it fall into obscure darkness, nothing but the rhythmic chant of the river’s gushing accompanied my sleep. I went westwards to Japan, and the shakuhachi and shamisen mesmerized me. The noises of the guban in the noh woke me from my sleep. Under the blossom of the misty cherry trees next to Shinanogawa, I traced the steps of my father who studied here in his early life. The river carried the little petals to where it met the ocean. One time I lingered by the extravagant bridges at Dnieper River, admiring the residence of the renowned master Repin. I ended the trip lying beneath the golden birches by the riverside, immobilized by the melancholic yearnings of the Bayan accordion. There are still many more stories I could tell. Rivers, as the veins of the land, flow incessantly day and night, just like the love and gratitude that pumps within my veins. Rivers, I owe you my thanks. Your flow will always remain in my heart. Note: “Guest From Afar, Please Stay” is a Chinese Yi folk song. When the Central Nationalities Song and Dance Ensemble belonged to the University for Central South Nationalities, they always started the shows with this song.

--- Cen Long 2014