"Pencil Walker" attempts to go beyond the "Pen Walking" series; it is a personal ritual of repentance. The performer sets up a white wall made of wooden boards, and places a video camera facing the wall. A pencil sharpener is taped to his left upper arm and a voice recorder to his right; the microphone from the recorder is affixed directly over his mouth. Once the video and audio equipment are activated, he uses the sharpener on his arm to sharpen a pencil, then begins walking back and forth in front of the wall, continuously drawing a pencil line with each step. He begins chanting the repentance verse from the "Avatamsaka Sutra":

"All the evil karma I have created in the past,

Has arisen from beginningless greed, anger, and delusion,

Born of body, speech, and mind—

I now repent all of it."

This marks the beginning. While walking and drawing with the pencil, he chants mantras, the Heart Sutra, or recites the names of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. This process of sharpening the pencil, walking lines, and chanting is repeated continuously. Each session lasts about two hours and fifteen minutes, and the performance was carried out sixty times over a span of twenty years.

Embedded within the Pen Walking series and The Pencil Walker is a layered metaphor: the pencil becomes the wheel of samsara, while the once-spotless white wall—now darkened and smudged—represents the accumulated karma of countless past lives. Pen Walking surveys the labors of an entire life in silence, prompting a quiet resignation: There is nothing I can do to change what life is. By contrast, The Pencil Walker reflects upon the weight of karmic wrongdoing with meditative clarity: If a pencil stands for a human life, then what kind of line have I drawn through this endless cycle of rebirth? If birth, aging, illness, and death repeat without end, is there any meaning in struggling to live with purpose? To live such a life is not to transcend it. You still carry desire and aversion. At times, you even harbor a quiet self-hatred. And so, you fall silent. And that silence—is the pencil.

Both the "Pen Walking" series and "Pencil Walker" contain certain metaphors: each pencil becomes the wheel of samsara, while the once-spotless white wall—now darkened and stained— represents the accumulated karma of countless past lives. "Pen Walking" silently surveys the labor of an entire life, provoking the quiet sigh: There is nothing I can do to change what life is. In contrast, "Pencil Walker" meditates upon karmic burden, asking: If a pencil stands for a human life, then what kind of line have I drawn through this endless cycle of rebirth? If birth, aging, illness, and death repeat without end, is there any meaning in struggling to live with purpose?

To live such a life is not to transcend it. You still carry desire and aversion. At times, you even despise yourself. And so, you fall silent. And your silence—is the pencil.

面對輪迴人生的無奈與虛無,《走鉛筆的人》試圖超越《走筆》系列,這是一個個人的懺悔儀式。行者架設一面木板白牆,面對白牆安置一組錄影機,分別用膠帶將削鉛筆機和錄音機固定在他的左上臂和右上臂,又將錄音機接出的收音麥克風封貼在嘴上。啟動錄影機、錄音機,並用臂上的削鉛筆機削尖鉛筆,在白牆前往返行走並持續地走畫鉛筆線。與此同時,行者以誦念華嚴懺悔偈:「往昔所造諸惡業,皆由無始貪嗔癡,從身語意之所生,一切我今皆懺悔。」 作為開始,邊走筆邊持咒語、心經,或誦念諸佛菩薩的名號。這個削鉛筆、走線和誦念的行動不斷重覆進行著,每次為時約二小時十五分,共執行六十次歷時二十年。

《走筆》系列與《走鉛筆的人》蘊含著一些隱喻:一枝枝的筆,代表一生生的輪迴。那面本來清靜潔白,如今黝黑污濁的紙與牆,則象徵過去生生世世累積的惡業。《走筆》沈默地全覽一生的作業,使人喟嘆:「不論再怎麼樣,也不過如此」,而《走鉛筆的人》則試圖在累生造作的惡業前冥想:「如果一枝筆,可以是一個人的一生。那麼在漫長的生死輪迴中,我重複走出的是什麼樣的人生線條?不就是不斷的生、老、病、死嗎?這些辛苦有意義嗎?還要這樣繼續下去嗎?」

面對這樣的人生,其實你並未看透。你既渴念也厭棄,你有些痛恨自己。於是,你沈默⋯,而你的沈默,就是筆。
  • Shi Jin-Hua, Pencil Walker, 1996-2015
    Pencil Walker, 1996-2015