我深爱的云，你好。

　　现在我是在德国美因茨的一个小镇哈克斯海姆给你写信。我能感觉到此刻你就沉睡在不远之外的展厅里，同时又始终觉得你依然游荡在几千里外的北京上空。噢不要糊弄我说北京雾霾呢你已经溜走了，我知道你一直都在。前几日我在飞来这里的路上，随着A380巨大的机翼降落，我从几万英尺高空慢慢贴近法兰克福的土地，我先看到层云在最高处流动，下面有积云无边静若堆雪。飞机穿过暗藏汹涌的积云包围以后，我又看到如丝如缕的纤细层云，然后又是形态各异的积云四处奔走，然后我才看到地面的黄赭和绿紫。我忽然明白，其实无论晴空或者阴霾，你一直都在。你好狡猾不是吗，对于云来说，虚无这个词从一开始就是一个伪命题吧。

　　屈指算来，我对你的喜爱也已经三年有余了。最早我在北京郊区撕心裂肺的工地上空注意到你，你从尘嚣面纱背后逐渐清晰的身影是那么美丽，而且不可思议。我至今无法忘记你第一次定格在我画面上的时候我是如何的内心喜悦又故作淡定。那时候你是我所有风景里最得意的一面。那时候我在一所医院的13层楼的窗前，我会一连几个小时盯着看你如何变幻各种肤色和表情。你会迅速从臃肿变成轻灵，一会儿又从透彻变得心事凝重。你会模仿世间一切的生物与瞬间，比如飞马与手臂，比如拥抱与战争。然后又会在我刚刚会心而笑时忽然消逝无踪影。那时候我能感觉到脸上太阳灼烫般的戏弄。但是我一点都不生气，我甚至喜欢这样的被嘲弄因为我知道这是证明你懂我的心。人世间的悲欢种种你登高望远，在你用身体语言做的各种演绎里，我似乎能把某些疤痕看扁平了，或者把某种背叛看高贵了。我在我的眼睛里爱上你了，从那时候起我就正式邀请你住进我心里，并且精彩活跃在我纯洁的纸上。

　　我曾经以为这种对虚无的热爱会永不改变，可不久我就发现这种假设本身更加虚无。就如同所有的世间爱情最终都会变成亲情，随着时过境迁，我发现我从迷恋你的转瞬千面，开始变为更多热爱你无常里不经意的慵懒。我会没有任何期待的凝视你天空里唯一的高度，我会把你身后的蓝看作你身外不灭的眼。我面对的是你，可所思所悟的，却基本上无关云也无关我。在此我要对你致以歉意，因了我把许多看似宏大的猜疑硬要挂在你的翅膀上，比如那些有限和无穷的鸟争辩，那些姓庄的或者姓黑的自命高深的鸟人。

　　其实人的智慧与你根本不在一个气流层，这真相也是我最近才慢慢看明白的。特别是这次我从高空的云里雾里俯冲降落以后，我就更加知道，你的高度绝不是爱或者领悟所能企及。我开始为我自作多情的描绘羞愧，但却更加深爱了我自己的这种毫无意义的深爱。世间所有本来就无差别，那与其去耗尽一生糟蹋一张纸或者建立一个好家庭，倒不如去专心爱一朵云吧。毕竟，云的万千形态本来就在我心里。

　　爱或不爱，你从不会失去。

　　美因茨德国

　　2014.10.12

　　A Letter to Cloud

　　My Beloved Cloud,

　　Now I am writing to you in a small town Harxheim of Mainz in Germany with a feeling that you are asleep in the exhibition gallery not faraway from me, meanwhile, wafting in Beijing’s sky thousands of kilometers away. Please, don’t you want to hoax me by saying that you have fled away because of the smog pervading Beijing for I know you have been in there. A few days before on my way flying here, when the giant Airbus A380 slowly approached the Frankfurt’s land from sky thousands of feet high, I firstly saw stratus drifting in highest sky, below that were the numerous cumulus clouds as quiet as piled snow. As the plane passing through the surrounding cumulus that have hidden rage, once again I saw slim stratus clouds looking like silk strands followed by various cumulus clouds which were rushing in all directions, then I saw yellows and greens on land. Suddenly, I realized that, whether in sunny or cloudy weather, you are always there. How slippery you are, aren’t you? In fact, for clouds, nothingness is a pseudo-proposition from the beginning.

　　Let me check, I have been in love with you for more than three years. At first, I noticed you in the sky above the construction site where the field was ripped by excavators, your image partly hidden behind the veil of urban dust is so beautiful, so incredible to me. Now I still remember the first time you flourished in my painting, how I rejoiced but pretended to be calm. Among all my scenery paintings, the one with your image quickly became my favorite. Once I stood in front of a window at 13th floor of a hospital, I used to stare at you for several hours to observe how did you alter all kinds of shapes and expressions. You might become skinny from bulky in an eye’s blink, or get loaded with sorrows from light-heartedness. You can imitate any creatures at any moment in earthly world, like a flying horse, an arm, like people embrace each other or at war. As soon as I smiled with appreciation, in all of a sudden, you disappeared without a trace. I know you were mocking me, making me feel like sunburn, but I wasn’t annoyed at all, I even like the mocking of you because I know you understand me. In the highest place you witness everything in the world, you present everything with your body language, in which presentation I nearly can heal some scars or upgrade some betrayals to elegance. I adore you in my eye, from then on, I formally invite you to live in my heart, and flourish on my chaste painting paper.

　　I used to think my passion to nothingness would never change, but before long, I realized this hypothesis was more than nothingness, just like all affection in world turn into kinship. As time and circumstance change, I found my obsession to your changeable face started to change; I admire more of your unwitting laziness. I usually stare at you in high sky without any expectation, I would consider the blueness behind you as your eternal eyes outside your body. While I am facing with you, what I think and contemplate has nothing to do with you or myself. I must express my apology to you because I applied some seemingly noble supposition to your wings, such as those worthless debates on finiteness and infinity, and those pretentious Zhuang Zi and Hegel alike.

　　In fact, human’s wisdom is not at same airflow layer with you, which is the truth I came to realize recently. Specially, descending in clouds from high sky this time makes it clearer that your world can never be reached only by love or insight. I began to be shameful for my self-assertive description, but in turn, I loved more than ever my meaningless love. Everything in world is fundamentally similar, comparing with spoiling a paper with all my life or maintaining a good marriage, I would rather concentrate my love on cloud. After all, cloud’s all faces are in my heart originally.

　　To love or not to love, you are always there.

From Wang Muyuu.

　　Oct. 12, 2014,

Mainz, Germany