公共空间座椅，永远在两个状态里交替：被使用和空置。而后者往往是更惯常的状态。当人们没有坐在长凳上时，长凳属于谁？我们总是急于建造，更多真的等于更好吗？能否退让，留白，留空间给疯长的植物，给湿润的空气，给我们起身后的空间。

      我们城市的公共空间，被水泥铺地压榨的绿化花园，能否也拥有大卫霍克尼作品里那样永恒的夏天，永恒的阳光，肆意生长的植物，和由敏感的光线勾勒的空间？是否也能拥有大卫霍克尼作品里情感充沛的空间叙事：关于季节，光照，气候和色彩。

      希望有这样的公共座椅，需要它时，它在。不需要它时，它模糊，它融入风景。它融入不同的风景。它允许植物，光，水，小虫的穿过，允许环境的浸入。

      这是一个为了人们，也为了别的什么，而设计的长凳。

Public seats are always alternated between two states: occupied and vacant. The

latter tends to be the more common state. Who does the bench belong to when

people are not sitting on it? We are always in a rush to build, does more really 

equal better? Can we step back and leave space for wild plants, humid air, and 

empty space of nothing?

Is it possible for the public space in our city and the green garden giving way to the cement floor to have the eternal summer, eternal sunshine, wild plants, and 

space delineated by sensitive light like in David Hockney's works? Is it possible 

for them to have the emotionally charged spatial narrative of David Hockney's 

work which is about seasons, light, climate and color.

Imaging a public seat like this: when need be it was there, when it's not needed,

it blurs, it bubbles, it blends into different landscapes. It allows plants, light, 

water, insects, and the immersion of the environment to get through.

This is a bench designed for people, but also for something else.