After many complications, we finally received word that the work had arrives safely. “ Dialogue-My Coffin ” was to be exhibited at EXPO 2000 in Hanover, Germany.
The winter afternoon they had come to talk about is, the sky was in purple-blue color. The German organizer , Johan, and his translator came to my home. I showed him a few sketches and explained my idea. I told him the work would be a coffin made of branches, hemp, and dried roses. He nodded his head and said:“ Ja, ja ”. But from his eyes I could see he didn` t understand. I pointed out on the sketch two figures that would be human-size, and I told him that one would be male, one female, and that they would be holding each other in the coffin. From the expression in his eyes I could tell he thought this was funny. He gave me a quizzical, astonished smile, and through his glasses he stared at me with his big, blue eyes.
“Do you, do you really believe that after people die they can continue to be that close?”
That was a very German thing to ask. I have Germans are the most precise people. Why should it matter if this was impossible? Who has ever seen that? The German way of thinking is always straight, never curvy!
A few months later I met with Johan again. He declared with a serious face, “ In fact I like your creative process, I hope to see the finished work.”
When the work was completed, it was the size and form of an actual coffin, but it was much prettier than real thing! It was entirely transparent, and the branches were interwoven with dried roses. The work gave the feeling of withered life. I didn` t make the two “ ghosts” holding each other lying down; instead, two sculpted heads stood upright, seriously in the coffin. The head of the male ghost was a bit smaller than the female` s. A circle of screws made his face look a little like a warrior from the Middle Ages. His smaller head looked a bit funny, and it also made him a bit like a young boy. The head of the female was elegantly held high, her lips were slightly open, as if she were talking. It was like the way ghosts talk in my dreams. What she said, I have no way of knowing. They seemed to share an affectionate familiarity with one another. I didn` t know what to say to them. I continued sticking in more roses. Often when a rose went through the two layers of hemp fiber coffin wall, a thorn would prick my finger. There was a little blood. I licked it with my tongue, my blood was bitter.
The day I affixed the two heads into coffin, I stayed with them for the entire night. I sat beside my coffin on a little stool. The cold moon` s shadow coming from my yard was blue-purple. The shadow of the winter branches came into my room with the moonlight and covered the ground me. It made my heart feel empty. Two cats passed by on the ridge of the roof , one black, one white, one after the other, and I don` t know where they went.
When I opened my eyes again, I was still seated beside my coffin. Outside the window, the shadow of the branches of the nut tree disappeared into the early morning air. I felt the air alive with the fragrance of roses. I looked at my “her” and “him” , they were still talking.
Mysterious smiles hid behind the four corners of their mouths. A little shy and a little sentimental. I don` t know that they did while I was asleep. Perhaps they were like the cats on the roof the night before?
My heart felt fragrant. My fingers were tender and covered with pale marks from the rose thorns, but then suddenly I understood something …I know that if I ever become a female ghost, I will certainly be a restless one. And surely there will be male ghosts to seek my company, to talk and play with…
Qing Qing 
Spring 2000
Nanluoguxiang, Beijing