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22
有的時候，遙遠的海，變成回家的遙想。跟自己說不要像奧德賽的船員，吃了蓮花後忘記家鄉，走入安逸的遺忘。回海線的路一閃一閃的，但是不管在哪裡，一起工作，一起產出才是最重要的，kacaw 和 lafa 這樣跟伊麥說。在這個疏離虛無的時代，有這樣從微小的編織聯繫起來的羈絆，一花一世界。
Sometimes, the distant sea is a yearning for home. We tell ourselves not to be like the crew of Odysseus who tasted the lotus, forgot their homeland, and drifted into a quiet forgetting. The road back to the coast flickers. “Wherever we are, working together and creating together is all that matters.” These are the words Kacaw and Lafa shared with Imay. In an era of alienation and emptiness, there is a bond woven from these small threads. A world in a flower.
21
在很晚的時候我們才知道，平淡是被祝福的，一輩子只跟一個人在一起，只做一個工作，聽同一首 california dreamin‘，每天一起散步回家。
It took us a long time to realize that there is a blessing in the ordinary. to stay with one person for a lifetime, to do one job, to listen to the same california dreamin’, and to walk home together every day.
20
我後來才發現我的手可以創造很多東西，今天 nacu 在說她的年度 review，我都這樣想然後每天編織，就會有很多樂趣。 無盡的編織，可以是一種虛無，可是當已經知道無盡，還是一直持續編織，虛無好像成為自由，因為已經看到盡頭，於是每個過程都是當下，不需要意義來支撐，因為編織這件事本身就是目的。
"One day I realized my hands could create so many things," Nacu said. "I weave with that thought every day; it is full of joy." Endless weaving could be emptiness. But to see the end and keep weaving, that emptiness becomes freedom. Each moment is the pure present. It needs no meaning to sustain it. The weaving is itself the purpose.
19
我很喜歡我土土的樣子，nacu 說，我覺得在鄉下長大的小朋友很幸福，不知道下一代的小朋友會怎麼樣，還可不可以遇見延遲的快樂，網路的撥接聲，遊戲卡和鬥片，充滿期待的長時間等待。 你的某一個小孩，有一天會做你以前在做的事情，我小時候看媽媽編織，也沒想過自己以後也會這樣做。
“I like the way I am,” Nacu said. “I think kids who grow up in the countryside are lucky. I don’t know what it will be like for the next generation. Whether they’ll still come across that kind of delayed happiness. The sound of dial-up internet. Game cards and marble games. Long waits, filled with anticipation. One day, one of your kids will end up doing what you used to do. When I was little, I watched my mother weave. I never thought I’d be doing the same thing myself.”
18
你看，ai 爆炸時代，大家都想回歸到手作，上禮拜 nacu 老神在在地跟我說，同時我螢幕上還一邊在無效嘗試 ai 小工具，然後想到在逛凱布朗利人類學博物館的時候，展品前面站滿了老中青三代在討論展品，沒有手機或相機，不間斷地湧現很多自己的見解，很美。
“AI explosion, yet everyone returns to the handmade,” Nacu remarked last week, calm and grounded. In the same time, I was on my screen, lost in a futile attempt with an AI tool. It reminded me of Musée du Quai Branly: three generations in discussion before the exhibits. No phones, no cameras. Just an incessant flow of insights. It was beautiful.
17
我最近在從神話裡面找解答，伊麥說，我老爸說反正不知道的事情就問祖先。神話也跟史詩一樣，有各種年代和地域的版本嗎？對啊，像阿美族的創世傳說，在不同地域都有各自的分支，要試著從神話解讀祖先想要傳達的事情。 我覺得我們在做的事情其實蠻孤單的，她說，現代性的事情，要從神話裡去找解答。
I’ve been looking for answers in myths lately. My father always says: when in doubt, ask the ancestors. Like epics, myths change across time and place. Even the Pangcah creation stories branch out depending on the region; we have to decode what our ancestors were trying to tell us. It’s lonely work, she said. Seeking answers for the modern world within the myths of the past.
16
原來 text 文本的字根是織物 texere，說話與書寫是關於編織意義，於是文本與詮釋都帶有工藝性質。 字根這個事情好美，是古老的人們對行動的解讀，即使幾千幾百年來社會和科技有如此多的動盪，人性卻依然跟從前的時代有所連結。 人生的編織好像是關於記憶的織造，也許也像是不斷的相遇和每天反覆的日常中慢慢交織的結構，那些片刻，是厚實，密實，而且非線性的。
One day I realized that the word text comes from the Latin texere, to weave. Speaking and writing are bound to the act of weaving meaning, so every text, every interpretation, carries something of craft within it. There is a certain beauty in this root—a way ancient people understood action. Even through centuries of upheaval in society and technology, our humanity remains linked to those earlier times. The weaving of a life is the weaving of memory, shaped through encounters and the slow repetitions of everyday living. These moments are full, tightly interlaced, and never linear.
15
在靜浦練習織布，快要兩年前了，有很多的記憶和很多的遺忘，可是回憶是不斷延伸的，伊麥蹦蹦跳跳跑去跟嬸嬸拿家裡很老的織布工作背心；sawmah 學完織布阿公幫她做的織布機，一起畫零件，上山找木材，然後手工模出來的織具；dopoh 找到的老家苧麻織布，眼睛閃閃發亮的說自己的家族故事。 記憶混雜著遺忘的編織性，是一個深刻而且美麗的事情，每次的回憶都是重新編織出來的，遺忘以前的人事物也許帶點哀傷，可是當我們意識到遺忘不會讓事情消失，而是模糊的共存，讓人生一直有好多若隱若現的背景，好像也是很好的事情。
It has been almost two years since we practiced weaving in Cewi'. There were many memories and much forgetting, yet memory continues to unfold. Each act of remembering is itself a reweaving. What is forgotten does not vanish, but lingers in blurred coexistence—forming the shifting background of life, quiet yet present.
14
去年的巴黎 showroom，伊麥教 hiromu 修剪編好的浪草，然後一邊說著浪草和海膽的相似之處以及在海邊撿海膽的事情，還要得意的講到砍草剖草到編草是我們自己一條龍完成，這應該是這個時代魔幻又快樂的事情吧，在巴黎，多倫多，或是金澤，各個角落的大家對話的同時，建構自己小小的口述個人歷史。我每天都在編織，我知道我在做什麼，nacu 說，有的時候，我們沒有意識到自己每天在做的事情構成了這樣的我們，鏡頭拉遠，是這樣的平靜悠遠。
At last year’s Paris showroom, Imay showed Hiromu how to trim the woven riyar light from umbrella sedge. She spoke with pride that from cutting and splitting to weaving, every step is done by our own hands. In Paris, Toronto, or Kanazawa, each was shaping a small oral history of their own. “I weave every day, and I know what I am doing,” Nacu said. When the lens pulls back, it feels steady, open, and far-reaching.
13
昨天哈佛和MIT的老師來訪談編織，後來聊起亞裔和猶太裔的離散，忽然想到小時候在普斯林頓的朋友，前陣子在台灣遇到，他們媽媽笑著說中文都講不太好，八極拳卻打到得了獎，也想起在戴爾夫特的時候，週末很喜歡搭一站火車到鹿特丹的唐人街，招牌很像停格在幾十年前時間縫隙，然後又帶著一點遙想與想像，長出那裡新的模樣。 訪談的最後他們問到你們對編織的未來目標是什麼呢，是認真享受每一個生活實踐吧，像是伊麥爸爸跟她說的潮汐是刻在身體裡的記憶，離散這個事情讓我們意識到只要家族的歷史一直在家人的記憶之間流傳，無論身在何處，每個時刻都是當下的文化實踐。
Yesterday, professors from Harvard and MIT visited to talk about weaving. Later the conversation turned to diasporas. At the end of the visit they asked what future we saw for weaving. I think it lies in attending to each practice of life—much like what Imay’s father once told her, that the tides are memories inscribed in the body. Diaspora makes us aware that as long as a family’s history continues to live within memory, wherever we may be, every moment is already a living practice of culture.
12
以前讀不太懂班雅明《靈光消逝的年代》裡的靈光 aura，後來去看 aura 的希臘字根 αὔρα，關於微風，流動的空氣，那樣輕盈擦身而過的存在感，才知道是 aura 是關於某個碰觸到了卻又遙遠的瞬間。 「感覺到此物帶有歷史與距離的那一刻，歷史在場但不直言，他不是為你而來，但卻一直在這裡」 也像是編織的縫隙吧，拿在手裡沉沉的，你可以從這個物件感覺到那段時空一直還在。
I once struggled to understand Benjamin’s aura. Later I looked into its Greek root, αὔρα—a breeze, the fleeting presence brushing past. “To sense the weight of history and distance in an object is to know that history is present but unspoken—it was not made for you, yet it has always been here.” It is like the spaces in a weave—when held, its weight lets you sense that time and place still endure.
11
walking backward into future — 在幾個太平洋島嶼的時間觀裡，歷史在眼前，未來在背後，所以人們是以面向歷史，背對未來的方式在前進。 一個古老的毛利諺語是這樣說的，“ka mua, ka muri” — 向前行，是跟在過去之後。
Walking backward into the future — in the time view of several Pacific islands, history lies before the eyes, while the future is at one’s back. People move forward facing the past, with the future behind them. An old Māori proverb says, “ka mua, ka muri” — to walk into the future is to follow after the past.
10
以前時常寫，跟著自然，隨著時間慢慢變老，是最美的事情。後來才發現，老去這個事情，橫跨了多少的生離死別，是這樣的悲樂交織。 每年反覆染製的草木染，不是為了美，而是要把每一個時節，每一個年的記憶，堆疊凝結起來，讓回憶可以停格，也讓生命的痕跡可以持續存在，碰觸，流轉啊。
I used to write that following nature, growing old slowly with time, was the most beautiful thing. Later I came to see that aging carries so many losses and separations, a weave of sorrow and joy. Each year’s repetition of natural dyeing is not for beauty, but to gather and layer the memory of every season, every year—so that recollection can find a stillness, and the traces of life may continue to exist.
09
你看，窗台的小豆樹開花了，在烈日下仔細觀賞那朵小花，然後想起「植物性的存在」，擬態，順應，但從根部自己默默長出自己的樣子，也許人們長大的過程也是植物性的擬態，也許工藝也是植物性的根向，也許時間也是植物性的，平淡簡單，但是一層一層包覆著複雜的當下與過去。
Look, the little bean tree on the windowsill has blossomed. Watching its small flower closely under the harsh sun, I thought of a “plant-like existence”—mimicking, yielding, quietly growing its own way from the root. Perhaps growing up, too, is a kind of plant-like mimicry; perhaps craft has its own plant-like rooting; perhaps time itself is plant-like—simple and steady, layered with the complexities of both present and past.
08
忽然發現離散的字根 diaspeirein 是將種子撒向遠方，文化的字根 colere 是耕種土地，原來離散帶走了每個記憶的片段，海風的，浪聲的，夕陽的，然後才落地生根。
I was reminded that the root of diaspeirein—diaspora—means to scatter seeds afar, while the root of colere—culture—means to till the land. Dispersal carries traces of memory away: the sea wind, the sound of waves, the sunset—until they take root again.
07
你看，我的手機裡都是海的照片，伊麥傻笑的說，海線長程移動，每次經過同一個轉角看到海浪，都覺得好美啊，要停下來拍。 不知道海浪的氣味累積了多少個層疊的記憶，然後翻滾浮現，也像是李維史陀寫的時間：在星球老化，地震的地層錯位的時候，那些遙遠過去意義不明的小細節，現在清晰如山峰。
“Look, my phone is full of sea photos,” Imay said with a laugh. Traveling long distances along the coast, each time she passed the same turn and saw the waves, she felt it was so beautiful she had to stop and take a picture. Who knows how many layers of memory are carried in the scent of the waves, surfacing as they break—like Lévi-Strauss wrote of time: those distant, once-unclear details emerge sharp as mountain peaks.
06
「天地萬物有自己依循的東西，讓物件自己會呈現這樣的形狀，像貝殼，像植物，這樣積年累月凝結而成的樣子」 幾個月前，在大英博物館的館藏看到熟悉的，一模一樣的，上下蓋螺旋藤編小葫蘆，點開來，是台灣原住民的物件，老物件當年流動到國外的博物館，就這樣與世隔絕，凝結起來，世界的另一邊，族群還在繼續，但是在某個地點和時間點，又會突然連動起來。 每一個季節的新品，沒有太多新奇的發明，因為手裡製作的東西，都是長期累積下來，內建在社會和身體裡的文化結構啊。
“All things under heaven have their own way of becoming, so that objects take shape as they do—like shells, like plants—formed through the long accumulation of years.” A few months ago, in the collections of the British Museum, I came across a familiar piece: a small spiral rattan gourd basket, marked as a Taiwanese Indigenous object. Each season’s work is less a matter of new forms than a return to what has long been carried in the body and the social fabric.
05
bada 在 kamaro'an 六年了，今年夏天要回屏東了。 這幾年都在做阿美族的工藝紀錄，你回頭看看，有什麼想法。 「我覺得工藝不是只限定一個民族」排灣族的 bada 説。 不只是「阿美族的工藝」或「布農族的工藝」。 工藝是流動的，是有互動的交流，像我在南太平洋的史前博物館，也曾經看到用手機包的編法編的扇子。 剛好花蓮比較多籐，屏東比較多山棕和竹，但是編織的邏輯是彼此呼應的。
Badagaw has been with Kamaro’an for six years and will return to Pingtung this summer. In recent years she has been documenting Pangcah craft. “Craft is not limited to a single people,” said Badagaw, who is Paiwan. “It’s not just ‘Pangcah craft’ or ‘Bunun craft.’ Craft is fluid, moving through exchange. At the Museum of Prehistory in the South Pacific, I saw a fan woven with the same pattern used for cell phone pouches. There is more rattan in Hualien, more arenga palm and bamboo in Pingtung, but the logic behind weaving carries across places.”
04
工藝之美不是美術性的，不是個人意志，也不是精妙絕技，而是社會性的，柳宗悅寫著，是安平祥和的社會生活和勤勞樸實的眾生 健壯，平凡，那些付諸自然情感製作出來的，可愛的，溫暖的物件
The beauty of craft is not in artifice, not in individual will, nor in refined virtuosity, but in its social nature. As Yanagi Sōetsu wrote, it arises from a life of peace and order, from the diligence and plainness of ordinary people. Sturdy, plain, made with sincerity—objects close and enduring.
03
編織要有力氣但是手放得鬆鬆的，讓編織之間有呼吸的空間，於是提著握著的時候，有手感的層次 也像是世界各個角落的人們，在工業化之前，也是長時間聚集在一起編織，在這之中扎根了社會結構，然後流轉著各種對話和故事 「你若編織，你將站在許多世代傳統之中」很久以前抄的一段話，一直很喜歡
Weaving holds a tension of strength and looseness—the hands firm enough to shape, yet relaxed enough to let the weave breathe. In the hand, it carries the weight of layered touch. It was the same across the world before industrialization, when people gathered for extended time to weave together. In that space, social structures were rooted, and conversations and stories passed through. “If you weave, you stand within the traditions of many generations.” It was a line I once noted down, and have always kept close.
02
「看你是要做什麼，而利用什麼方式製作，而做出來的東西叫什麼名字而已。」在學習螺旋編織 kopol 藤帽的時候，roit 阿公是這樣跟 badagaw 說的。 「做一百個物件，不如一個步驟做一百遍」，roit 阿公說。 「只要摸到產品，我都認得出來是哪一個工藝師做的」伊麥說，每個人有自己編紋，即使同樣的收尾方式，也有各自用刀的差異。
“What matters is the making itself, not the name,” said elder Roit to Badagaw while teaching her to weave a spiral kopol rattan hat. “One step done a hundred times holds more weight than a hundred objects made once,” elder Roit added. “I can always tell which craftsman made a piece just by touching it,” said Imay. “Everyone has their own weave. Even with the same finishing, each hand leaves its own cut marks.”
01
我從二十幾歲跟你們一起邁入三十幾了，今天 nacu 説。很多個年的不斷編織，想到波特萊爾筆下始終相同的東西（das Immerwiedergleiche）裡的新事物，是指每天編織的物件，還是歷史從過去到現在不斷重複的相似結構。 編織，或者每天的生活經驗，或者背後的文化實踐，是這樣的細微真實的動作，沒有宏偉的敘事，只有這些跳躍的記憶片段，像星群之間的微微閃爍的小光芒。
“I’ve stepped from my twenties into my thirties with you,” Nacu said today. Years of weaving bring to mind Baudelaire’s das Immerwiedergleiche—the ever-same in which something new appears, whether in the objects woven each day or in the recurring patterns of history itself. Weaving—whether in life as it is lived or in the cultural practice behind it—consists of gestures that are subtle and real. There is no grand narrative, only fleeting traces of memory, like the faint glimmer of stars in a constellation.