A garden, a space opened, from a collaboration between the earth, the natural world, and humans’ bounding, enclosing, shaping of it provides us with a motif for the opening, and exploring the openings, of the research space and the research. It also presents itself as an organic metaphor for the cultivation of knowledge, its dehiscence and dissemination, and the liberatory hope of academic labor. The garden, that enclosure of a natural space for the use and benefit of humans (often a selected group of), providing in part for our basic needs (i.e., food) and also for our pleasures (e.g., for leisure activities, for spiritual reflection, for esthetic appreciation), has over history represented a breadth of relations in-between humans and the environment, from dominance and control to a reciprocal partnership. However, there runs through the history of gardens, as in the history of education, a centrality of human desire, of power over and oppression, of enclosure and bounding. But despite this bounding, this fencing in, these enclosures, the garden grows beyond its boundaries, beyond the plan in the gardener’s mind, in her imagination. Seeds are planted, seedlings transplanted, nutrients added, beds watered, but then the gardener has to stand back, to let go, to see what will emerge, to how these elements will play off of each other, in spite of each other. The garden’s roots burrow deeply and shallowly, broadly and narrowly, converging and diverging, tangling and untangling only to tangle once again. The garden’s stems, strong and woody, delicate and herbaceous, rising above ground, and hidden below the surface, support, nourish, and regenerate the plant and the garden. The garden’s vines coil and climb, twisting, turning, and trailing, at once leaning on the structures enclosing them and weakening, even breaking down, those frameworks. The garden’s flowers bloom, showing in turn, and at the same time, different sensory experiences—colors, shapes, sizes, fragrances, textures—simultaneously deceivingly simple and unfathomably complex. The garden’s seeds, and their

中文翻译：

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有意间隔的花园：重新制定对写作和差异封闭的防御

一个花园，一个开放的空间，由地球、自然世界和人类对它的边界、围合和塑造的合作，为我们提供了一个主题，用于研究空间和研究的开放和探索。它还表现为知识的培养、知识的开裂和传播以及学术劳动的解放希望的有机隐喻。花园，为人类（通常是选定的一群人）使用和造福的自然空间的围合，部分满足我们的基本需求（即食物）和我们的乐趣（例如休闲活动，精神反思，为了审美欣赏），在历史上代表了人类与环境之间广泛的关系，从支配和控制到互惠的伙伴关系。然而，在花园的历史中，就像在教育的历史中一样，人类欲望、权力和压迫、封闭和限制的中心。但是，尽管有这个边界，这个围栏，这些围栏，花园还是超出了它的边界，超出了园丁头脑中的计划，超出了她的想象。种下种子，移植幼苗，添加养分，浇水，但是园丁必须退后一步，放手，看看会出现什么，看看这些元素将如何相互影响，尽管彼此。园之根深浅，宽窄，收敛与发散，纠缠与解散，又一次纠缠不清。花园的茎，强壮而木质，精致而草本，高出地面，隐藏在地表之下，支撑、滋养、并使植物和花园再生。花园里的藤蔓盘绕、攀爬、扭曲、转动和拖尾，同时靠在包围它们的结构上，削弱甚至破坏这些框架。花园里的花朵轮流绽放，同时，不同的感官体验——颜色、形状、大小、香味、质地——同时看似简单，却又深不可测。花园的种子，以及它们的