仁波切坐在一堆东西中央。袋子敞着，瓶瓶罐罐挨在近处，衣服铺过去，纸张又从衣服中间露出来。他朝这边看，手边没有多少空地方。

二〇一六年十一月，他给自己的头衔是King of pack rat。爱攒东西的人，还要做他们的王。

这份家当很杂。大的占住一块，小的往缝里去，各自都有一点模样，也各自要占一点地方。等国王坐下来，四周已经满了。

在此以前，他已经认过账：Mess I managed to create everywhere。桌上放着杯子、袋子、盒子，电线弯来绕去；桌面只从它们之间露出一些。

“到处”两个字，把房间的大小也省去了。无论桌子有多大，一摊开，总有这么一番光景。

有一个房间，行李箱打开在地上，床上的衣服一直铺到脚边。仁波切靠在床头，双手放在头顶，旁边的灯亮着。东西已经摊开，人暂且占住这一小块。

他解释这局面，用的是greedy和pack rat。贪心，爱攒东西。这两个词落到自己头上，口气倒很坦然。

箱子里有箱子里的东西，箱子外也有。椅子披上了一件红衣，床尾横着别的衣服，窗帘仍好端端地挂着。房间里最不需要另找位置的，大约就是窗帘。

这些东西分开来看，都没有这样大的声势。一瓶、一包、一小盒；聚到身边，才把人团团围住。

换到身上，他又有另一套布置。暗红衣服外系着一条带口袋的东西，手机、电线、小器具，一样样从腰间露出来。他叉着腰，朝这边笑。

Fashion v practical。时髦对实用。二〇一八年春天，他把这场小小的争论穿了出来。

口袋不必好看得没有用处。零碎东西各得一处，人还腾出两只手，够摆这个姿势。

但床仍会被东西占回去。一张白床上，帽子挨着衣服，卷起的纸管斜放着，笔记本电脑开在近处。旁边还有盒子，一只压着另一只。

到了二〇一八年冬天，他给这番景象的话是Myself in the mess...。东西里头，还有一个自己。

帽檐平平地伸着，盒盖合着，纸管中间空空的。每一样都有自己的边界；床上的空地方，却不大好找了。

Rinpoche sits in the middle of his things. Bags gape open, bottles and containers gather close, clothes spread out, and papers emerge between them. He looks this way. There is not much clear space beside his hands.

In November 2016 he gives himself the title King of pack rat. Among people who keep things, he will be king.

It is a miscellaneous kingdom. Large things take a patch, little things fit into the gaps. Each has a shape of its own, and each requires a little space. By the time the king is seated, his surroundings are full.

He has already owned up to it: Mess I managed to create everywhere. Cups, bags and boxes cover a desk, with cables bending between them. Only portions of the surface show through.

Everywhere is a word that dispenses with the dimensions of a room. Whatever the size of the desk, this is the scene his remark calls up.

In one room, suitcases stand open on the floor and clothes cover the bed towards its foot. Rinpoche leans back at the head, his hands resting on his head, a lamp lit nearby. His belongings are spread out; for the moment he occupies this small patch.

He accounts for the situation with greedy and pack rat. Both descriptions land on himself, without much ceremony.

There are things inside the cases, and things outside them. A red garment has taken the chair; other clothes lie across the foot of the bed. The curtains still hang in their proper place. They may be the only things in the room that need no new position.

Considered separately, none of these possessions makes so large an impression. A bottle, a packet, a small box. Gathered around him, they can surround a person.

On his person he has another arrangement. Over dark red clothes is something tied at the waist with pockets: a phone, cables and small devices emerge from them. He stands with his hands at his hips, smiling this way.

Fashion v practical. In the spring of 2018 he wears the little argument for everyone to see.

The pockets need not be so handsome that they serve no purpose. The small things each have a place, and he still has two hands free—enough for this pose.

But the things can take over a bed again. On a white bed, hats lie beside clothes, rolled paper tubes rest at an angle, and a laptop stands open nearby. Boxes are there too, one above another.

By the winter of 2018 his words for the scene are Myself in the mess... Among the things, there is himself as well.

The hat brims extend levelly, the boxes have lids, the paper tubes are hollow. Each thing has its own boundaries. An empty patch on the bed is harder to find.