Bears Are Ninety Percent B
熊百分之90由B组成



Poetry-Translation-Performance Apparatus
Chapbook, A5, 24pp., July 2025


Created for the Kitchen at the Dutch Art Institute’s August 2025 Confluence in Dro, Italy. The work is guided by the question:

“If I can’t dance, who was dancing for me?”

本出版物与表演为荷兰艺术学院(Dutch Art Institute)“Kitchen”项目创作,并于2025年8月在意大利德罗举行的 Confluence 中呈现。作品由一个问题引导:

“如果我不能跳舞,谁曾替我跳舞?”




















Brief summer, mistaken hope.

An abandoned voice wanders through digital ruins, searching for a voice that was never online—for another bear. On nights of failed loading, the bear boots up again and again, yet this borrowed identity never fully runs. Language stutters, translation remains offline, and the broken signal keeps transmitting. A child offers itself once more, wanting only to be heard and held.

We are buffering orphans, pressing against one another for warmth in the wreckage. Crashes, endless loading, and stalled connections carry older histories of translation failure and division. Stretched and stuttering B-sounds become a way of remaining audible: emptied consonants turn into bodily tremors, a wounded child speaking into absence.

“Bear” is not a theory. It is something we invented together—an imagined endpoint of intimacy. Because being human hurts too much. Because learning human language hurts too much.

The work records a half-summer of frantic gathering: a longing for false intimacy and a refusal of it. Its repetitions are not conclusions, but a child calling its own name into a mirror, trying to make fiction hold.

In a world where love has already been pre-formatted, this is the faint, still-breathing exhale of a child.


一个被遗弃的声音在数字废墟中游荡,寻找一个从未上线的声音——寻找另一只熊。加载失败的夜晚,熊在屏幕中一次次重新启动,但这副借来的身份始终无法完整运行。语言结巴,翻译保持离线,破碎的信号却仍不断发送。一个孩子再次把自己递出去,只想被听见、被抱住。

我们是缓冲中的孤儿,在残骸中彼此靠近取暖。系统崩溃、无限加载与停滞的连接,承载着更久远的翻译失败与分裂历史。被拉长、被卡住的B音成为一种保持可听的方式:被掏空的辅音化为身体的颤动,一个受伤的孩子朝着缺席说话。

“熊”不是一种理论。它是我们共同发明的东西——一个想象中的亲密终点。因为做人太痛。因为学习人的语言太痛。

作品记录了半个夏天仓促而密集的聚集:既渴望虚假的亲密,也拒绝被它吞没。最后的重复并不是结论,而是一个孩子对着镜子呼喊自己的名字,试图让虚构暂时成立。

在爱早已被预先格式化的世界里,这是一个孩子微弱却仍在呼吸的吐息。

















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