This is a set of photos taken on the Narati Grassland in the north of Xinjiang, which is also a day of coincidence for me in Narati. “Narati Grassland” means "white sun slope" in Kazakh language, and “Narati'' also means "with the sun". Standing on the Narati Grassland, the pure blue sky and the unreal light, instead of making one feel dizzy, let one concentrate more on the vitality and natural force under one's feet and over one's head - this is also, in my mind, the unique temperament of the Northern Xinjiang. This is not my picture, it is just the mark that Narati prompted me to leave.

Every moment in Narati invariably reminded me of Camus' Jemila - a large grassland with no cracking silence. I could occasionally hear some echoes, the valley's ringing, the meadow's swirling. I hooked my back and stood fully relaxed on top of the meadow, but I couldn't tell if it was coming from the other or from within me. “There are places where the spirit dies for the birth of a reality that becomes exactly what it denies”.

Narati stayed behind me, the sorrowful chanting of Narati's mountains, the giant eagles hovering in the azure sky without flying high, every lamb nestled in the arms of a child, every teenager's shy smile and whispers among companions, every horse in the center of the meadow, every sudden and short movement of the herd, every moment when the birds take off. I was suddenly aware of the bitterness and happiness behind this grassland.

<那拉提的风>

这是一组在北疆的那拉提草原上拍摄的照片，也是我在那拉提的一日巧遇。那拉提草原在哈萨克语中意为“白阳坡”，那拉提也即代表着“有太阳”。伫立于那拉提草原上，纯粹的蓝天和充足到不真实的光线，非但不让人感到眩晕，反而让人更集中注意力的感受脚下与头顶的生机与自然力。这也是在我看来的，属于北疆的独特气质。这不是我的图片，是那拉提促使我留下的记号而已。

在那拉提的每一瞬间都无不让我想起加缪笔下的杰米拉——偌大一片草原，没有裂缝的寂静。我偶尔能听到一些回声，山谷里的响起的，草原上荡漾的。我勾着背全身松弛的站在草原之上，但我无法辨别这究竟是来自他者，还是来源于我的内心。「有些地方，精神死了，是为了诞生一种恰成它之否定的真实。」那拉提留在了我身后，那拉提的群山的忧伤的歌声，在碧空中盘旋却不高飞的大雕，每一只依偎在孩子怀中的小羊，每一次少年害羞的笑脸和同伴间的私语，每一头草地中央的汗马，羊群每一次突然而短促的移动，每一个鸟儿起飞的瞬间。我恍然这片草原背后的苦涩与幸福。