R Magazine, Ex-TeenArt_Issue 1_Authenticity Jun. 2015 | Page 35
In Chinese symbolic, black and white conflict but they complete each other and mesh: it concerns
Yin and yang, two forces which may be found in all aspects of life and universe and which, in Chinese
cosmology follow breathe, original energy, present in every thing. Yang would be of white part, of
masculine, sun, fire, clarity, full, extroversion, active, while the Yin would be of black part ,of feminine,
moon, ice, dark, cold, unfilled, introversion ,passive. To present the Yin and Yang, it is generally
established a list of antonyms, a process which present the drawback to fix things. A Chinese doesn’t
said that the Yin is dark or cold ;he think that dark or cold are not attributes of Yin but the results of its
action .Yin isn’t therefore dark, it is a move of darkening; it is not cold but a trend of cooling. Likewise
Yang isn’t clear but a move of clarification. Also, definite articles usually placed before Yin and Yang, are
inducing us in error because they bring us to represent this couple by the way of two terms perfectly
symmetrical, static and separated. Bruce Lee, the”little dragon” of Kung Fu compared the functioning
of Yin/Yang to that one of a bicycle:
“As long as we persist to separate Yin/Yang in two different things, hope of its realization isn’t possible
[…] If someone want to go somewhere by bicycle, he can’t press on two pedals at the same time without
staying perfectly motionless. To progress he shall press at the same time on one pedal and release the
other. The complete move is press/release. ”Press” is the result of “release” and each one is on turn the
cause of the other. […].
When a practitioner of Gong Fu has understood the unity Yin/Yang, he doesn’t fuss unnecessary, could
it be with “softness” or with “firmness”: he simply does what he shall do at the right moment”
It is the title of a famous poem of Baudelaire : “ when the sky down and heavy weight as a cover/ On moaning spirit marked by long
troubles/And that the horizon kissing all the circle/It pour us a black day sadder than nights;/When land is changed in an wet cell,/
Where the hope as a bat ,/ go on hitting walls with its shy wing / And bumping its head into rotten ceilings;/When rain spreading
its huge drags/ of a wide prison imitate bars,/And that a dumb people of infamous spiders,/Come to tend its net at the back of
our brains,/Bells suddenly jump furiously,/And throw toward the sky an horrible howl,/As well as straying spirits and without
homeland,/which set about moaning doggedly./-And long hearses without any fanfare,/parade slowly in my soul ; hope,/defeated,
cry, and anxiety atrocious despotic,/On my skull inclined plant its black flag.”
Charles Baudelaire, ”Spleen”, flowers of evil.
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