splash ink
Spell Hu and há o p not mò
Meaning: wave: wave your arm, fist, knife, with a stroke of a pen. 2. Wipe away tears, sweat, etc. with your hands: milli: 1. Slender and pointed hair: wolf pen. Writing or painting. Splash: a painting method of Chinese painting, in which ink is splashed on paper or silk. If the ink is spilled, the picture is bold and unrestrained.
Explaining "splashing ink" refers to painting or writing calligraphy works with brush. In the past, the brush was made of wolf hair or sheep hair, so the brush was a brush. Splashing ink is a technique of Chinese painting, which is called "splashing ink". Brushing ink is also used in calligraphy. Refers to the natural and unrestrained heroic actions of men in writing or painting.
Chu Ming Li Rihua's "Bamboo Lazy Painting": "The ink splash is subtle, and the handwriting is not seen, such as splashing out."
what are the beautiful sentences of writing "ink"?
1. The ink is drunk in Jia Dao, and it is scrutinized under the tree. Why not write an article, beauty or appointment.
2. A beautiful woman may have an appointment, with a sister-in-law Mo beside her. Holding a washboard, see how coquettish you are.
3, the beauty tears dry, and the mountain lies on earth. The ink continues to be beautiful, and the golden beans are one after another.
4. The first tree in Xiyan Lake, my home, is blossoming with light ink marks. Don't be boasted of good colors, just leave the air full of dry Kun.
5. Daoyuan is tied in the north of Anhui, and I am diligent and diligent, and I am willing to give birth to flowers occasionally.
6. There is ink in his abdomen and he swims in the water.
7, the body is covered with ink, so the captors often fish with ink.
8. He washed his hands in the running water in the imperial ditch, and the fallen leaves floating in the imperial ditch slowly flowed out in the clear water. Suddenly, he found a large red leaf with ink marks on it, so he picked it up from the water.
9. Huang Gongwang's "brushwork in the landscape means that the bones and muscles are connected, and there is a difference between pen and ink. If you confuse your pen with description, it means that there is ink, and the pen does not need to be described (that is, writing), it means that there is a pen."
1. Ouyang Jimo used oil smoke and ink pills to see the salary of each long inch, and made a small poem to pick up light coal in the window, and the Buddha's account swept away the fragrance.
11. ink is hard and bitter, and it is useless to sigh. And when injecting insect fish, don't grass three thousand.
12. The sincere feelings of thick ink endow Sujuan, and the autumn wind sends a message of congratulations.
13. There are always some sentences that will be hurt by dripping ink; There is always a person who will stand forever in memory.
14. When Han Mo was in calligraphy, he recruited couples, while Dan Qing was in public.
15. Fingers are like ten strokes of ink, and ears are like two spoons. 3. Looking back, it's amber, and turning around for a lifetime. Glazed white
comes from the article that network writers first met:
A person, a city, is distressed all his life. Text/When I first met
the flowers are falling, and when it is fragrant in the evening, it cries at night. The makeup building is deep, and the silent tears dry Wan Li's heart. Between the flowers, the green hills are wet, and the dead snow is full of mountains. A small town in the Tang Dynasty dreams of a good trip. The frost and the dawn call for spring sorrow. The wind blew the yellow sand, blowing it into a desert filled with thousands of years, keeping the empty city alone and a long meditation for ten years.
the evening of the Ming dynasty has become a stranger. Stars all over the sky, piercing acacia. Fingertips quicksand, leaking through the years. Half leaning on the porch building, under the ghosting of the moon, the night scene is bleak. Ask the song about the wine, and tears can't stop flowing.
the curtain is covered, the harp and harp are broken, and the candle shadow is shaken. Night west wind, broken string ensemble, another song. Empty rainy season, cover up the prosperity. Don't go to the north city, looking back is amber. Xicheng tactic, turning around for a lifetime is glazed white.
alone, pour a cup to help you get drunk. On the attic platform, the moon is cold, and the tears flow first. Look at the dead snow without trace, and the fallen flowers are silent. Snow pours cold plum, Sima Qing is blue. Alone in the empty city, my heart is haggard.
painting the sand in a dream, the kite dies. There is a lack of moon in the city of Hunan, and it is sparse. Eve is like water on a stranger, and the fragrance of purple dogwood is slow. The moon shines on pear blossoms, the fragrance is faint, the wine is poured out, and the west wind is drunk alone.
elegance refers to quicksand, and old age is a period of time. After the leak, silent winter pillow, tears flying. Look at the unbreakable mirror, look at the smoke between your fingers, and the Millennium in the world is like a flash in the pan. For whom the oath is buried, for whom the face is covered with dust and the temples are like frost.
who buried all the tender feelings yesterday? Lonely and melancholy. The past remains the same, and it is hard to go back. After Rong Hua died, it turned out to be a scene. The mountains and rivers were always silent, and the small town was always half broken.
a small town in the decadent Tang dynasty has passed away, and who can reward it for its lost face? A city ballad, which can't be sung without sorrow, can't last forever. In a flash, flowers fall and new branches are scattered everywhere.
when the rosewood goes out, people go away. The flowers that are covered by years have become blank. A few sighs about the joys and sorrows of several generations, passing by, dreaming back to the water's edge, watching the fireworks bloom into a full moon.
at both ends of life, we stand on the shore of each other. Shallow dark wound, pen, negative. Fang Hua Yan Yu, after the bustling, turned out to be a curtain of dreams.
One person stays alone in an empty city, and the prosperity is no longer there. Gorgeous city ballads will eventually scar each other. A city ballad, falling flowers without trace, time turns into a blank. Watching the story of a broken town, kites fly by, and idiots talk alone.
a person, a city, is distressed all his life.