Qián Guānchāng

I have a great deal of empathy for the character of Kwai Chang Caine, it started when I used to watch the TV series Kung Fu. I was very heavily drawn to it as teenager and my family used to talk a lot over the programme, which pissed me off. The whole life of Caine changed when he killed a relative of the emperor, he had offended the authorities and was then to be hunted down. He carried the crouching tiger and hidden dragon of a Shaolin priest. Thereafter he wandered, encountering prejudice, adventure and lending a hand wherever he could. He was searching and itinerant. Often he came up against the corrupt and the bullies. But always there was that sense of moving on, a kind of restlessness, he knew when he was done with a particular scenario and the Dao then called him on. The idea of a trained priest and martial artist touched something in me, a core of sorts. It was Bodhidharma who is credited with founding “Shaolin”. He is also the patriarch of Zen.

There was a kind of loose thematic prescience to my fascination. But it also spoke in feeling and nuance terms of something I had buried in my pasts. There was always that impermanence, and its very now-ness about him. But the tendrils of the past and those he had offended were always somehow on his tail.

He knew when he was finished with a circumstance and much like one squeezes toothpaste out of a tube, the Dao squeezed him out and on his way. I feel this now, I am ready to leave this place, as stunning as the scenery maybe. It is not to become a home.

And like Caine I must soon be on my way.