Secret Love In Sketches|速写暗恋

Photo Credit: MOOOOE Studio

 

Sometimes, the inner drive is like the magic of the stage. My brain bloated badly. Once I returned to Shanghai from a family trip, I longed to take part in a sketch activity. It opened up slowly around the Secret Love, and felt like emptying yourself.

有时，内心的驱使如舞台的魔力。脑胀的厉害，一回上海便赶脚参加了一次围绕暗恋慢慢敞开的速写活动，放空自我。

 

Drawing by Inja, 2019.8.17

 

An old story began.

在此，也特别分享一段遥远的故事。

 

Drawing by Kaka, 2019.8.17

 

My Grade Three primary school teacher Mr Hu was a fresh meat from a neighbouring town. He came as a volunteer to teach us in 1999. No one knew I was precocious. After all, it was only the third grade of primary school! But when it came to the end of the school year, Mr Hu had to leave. I cried.

小学三年级的班主任是从县城来到我们草坑村支教的小鲜肉。没有人晓得我比较早熟。毕竟才小学三年级! 但是小学三年级期末结束后，那位老师要离开了。我哭了。

 

Drawing by Charles Tsunashima, 2019.8.17

Drawing by Nianci, 2019.8.17

Drawing by Yantong, 2019.8.17

 

On the morning when he said goodbye, he slowly crossed a stone bridge. I just stared at his back. Tears flooded my face.

离开的那一天，他缓缓走过老家的一座石桥，挥手向我告白，我两眼直直的望着他，挥一挥右手，微微颤抖。两行眼泪止不住的掉落。

Drawing by Jonghan Kim, 2019.8.17

 

When all the classmates had left, he turned his head with a smile that broke my heart, waving his hand for me to go home.

他回头一笑，示意我该回家了，因为别的同学都走光了。

 

Drawing by Maria Amelia Odetti, 2019.8.17

 

I smiled back, one hand covering my mouth and the other waving goodbye. He moved on, and never looked back. I watched him disappear into the distance.

我也笑了，捂着嘴，没说什么，继续望着他的背影，直至消失不见。

 

Drawing by Daryl Star Bates, 2019.8.17

 

I didn’t know what secret love was, but it was the feeling of not willing to give up and not willing to accept. I knew I might never see him again.

当时不懂什么叫暗恋，但就是那种不舍和无法割舍的感觉，明白那张迷人的脸可能再也没机会看到了。

 

Drawing by Anna, 2019.8.17

Drawing by Heather Cai, 2019.8.17

 

Now, it feels funny. Who can fathom the poetic picture between man and woman?

现在想想，觉得挺好笑。人与人之间的诗情画意，谁能捉摸透呢？

 

Photo of Daryl sketching, credit: Heather Cai, 2019.8.17

 

Click here to enjoy the complete story of Secret Love.

 

MOOOOE Studio hosts Life Drawing on Saturdays, organized by Inja.

Time: 3-6pm     Add: 2F, Building 20A, 2577Longhua Rd, Shanghai.

 

About Heather Cai:

 

Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently living in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.

 

Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者所有！

 

 

 

Follow HeathersChamber for more original poems, essays, prose, drawings and pictures

关注阿太的密室，订阅更多原创诗歌、散文、随笔、画画和图片

Secret Love

— A quartz stone I picked on the way walking from Xiadang Middle School to my home village 19 years ago. Photo taken in Shanghai, 2019.7.22

 

You and I have been younger. We were almost as unpolished as this quartz stone. Our heart was little and vulnerable. When we saw a dragonfly, it wasn’t just a dragonfly. It was the whole fascinating world around the dragonfly. And when we saw a face that fascinated us, we might dream about it every night. The charming eyes. The fluffy voice. The sweet smile. All these would melt the ice in the dark. We wouldn’t feel pain when that person punished us. We would feel the joy of some strange connection. We would admire that person’s jokes or even bullshit. When we looked into the eyes, we would blush like a mystery.

 

— Sigiriya, Sri Lanka, 2015.3 | 斯里兰卡·锡吉里耶

 

At thirteen, I had this tender feeling for my Grade Three primary school teacher Mr Hu. He came as a volunteer from a neighboring town to teach us in 1999. Actually, each school year, there would be one or two volunteers like Mr Hu. The school was dirt-built, black-tiled and really old. There were no blackboards or white chalk, but wooden boards and charcoal. There were no windows in the classroom, but only a square hole. And there was no place to eat, but the families in turn would provide fresh food and firewood for the teachers.

 

— Sigiriya, Sri Lanka, 2015.3 | 斯里兰卡·锡吉里耶

 

However, the playground was paradise. We would often skip and play the Chicks and Eagle game. Sometimes Mr Hu would play the Eagle. It was then I discovered that he was not as bookish as I had thought. His usually slow movements could be sharp, his usually toneless voice could be wild, his usually shy smile could be bold, and his usually calm eyes could be sparkling. Such a contrast just ignited my curiosity and attracted me like a magnet. When he caught me as the Chick and grabbed my arms with excitement, I couldn’t move or talk. My heart was racing, my face burning, and my eyes were afraid to meet his. When he let go of my arms, I wished he could hold me for longer. His existence had possessed my whole attention, and class time was not long enough to appreciate him.

 

— Sigiriya, Sri Lanka, 2015.3 | 斯里兰卡·锡吉里耶

 

One noon, after school, I couldn’t help but stay longer to watch him cooking through the square hole that gave a view of the kitchen. He was clumsily peeling a potato. I laughed. Those smooth fingers were probably more suitable for holding books. By the time I had to leave, it felt the more I saw him the more impossible for me not to see him.  

 

— Sigiriya, Sri Lanka, 2015.3 | 斯里兰卡·锡吉里耶

 

Until one afternoon in the middle of the second term, something new happened. A pig squealed like hell during our break. It was dragged along the playground by a mother and a daughter. The daughter Miao had the most beautiful smile in our class. When she smiled, her eyes smiled too. And that afternoon, her laughter resounded through the Fungshui forest beside our school with the screams of the pig. Everyone was laughing, except me. I was staring at Mr Hu. He was smiling and sometimes laughing too. His hand was holding his chin, his face was blushing, and his eyes were gazing at Miao with the same admiration as when I secretly watched him peeling potatoes. That moment, my world turned blue. I didn’t know there was such a word “jealousy”, but I envied Miao. From then on, although I frequently raised my hand in class, Mr Hu would still call Miao. Gradually I lost courage, and cried at night.

 

— Sigiriya, Sri Lanka, 2015.3 | 斯里兰卡·锡吉里耶

 

The pain accumulated till the end of the school year. On the morning when he said goodbye, he slowly crossed a stone bridge. When all the classmates had left, he turned his head with a smile that broke my heart, waving his hand for me to go home. I smiled back, one hand covering my mouth and the other waving goodbye. He moved on and never looked back. I watched him disappear into the distance. Tears flooded my face. I knew I might never see him again.

 

 

Was it secret love? What was the most nostalgic story from your school life? Have you ever had hopeless love for someone even if you knew that person would never love you back? What if you could meet your secret love again?

 

— Spring Picnic in Grade Three primary school (1999). Total sixteen students, six from a nearby village. My young brother and I were in the same class till Grade Two in middle school. And I did meet Mr Hu again when I graduated from high school in 2006. That was anoher story.

 

About Heather Cai:

 

Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently living in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.

Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者所有！

---

Follow HeathersChamber for more original poems, essays, prose, drawings and pictures

关注阿太的密室，订阅更多原创诗歌、散文、随笔、画画和图片

A Perfect Man

If a man is perfect, what is perfection?

If truth to be told, truth is relative;

If sin is original, sing for this sin;

If blue is the way, choose the way to blue;

If life or love is a bitch, then marry one or both;

If river becomes a memory, follow the river man;

If dreams are broken, keep day dreaming;

If already too much history, invent a new one;

If falling in love again, tell that Men are Dogs;

If marriage is a joke, bad joke, fuck it and say:

“I can live without you, I cannot live without myself.”

When one egg falls in love with another, they don’t talk but just kiss and kiss till they are eaten.

Exaggeration

You told, don’t exaggerate.

I said, I did see a black-and-white butterfly.

You confused, that I was exaggerating.

I  smiled, pointing at my left toe.

You surprised, oh the butterfly was…

I laughed out, now you gonna believe in me, babe?

You grinned, baby f*ck the exaggeration!

I joked, don’t get yourself exaggerated.

You joked back, why?

I looked into the eyes, deeply.

A voice followed my heart,

I love you original.