After the shock, the cold in spring intensified. First, the material is steep, and then the rainy season begins, sometimes dripping, sometimes wet, even in the dream, it seems to have an umbrella. With an umbrella, you can avoid a cold rain and the whole rainy season. Even my thoughts are wet. Going home every day, it is a dream to walk into the rain and wind from Jinmen Street to Xiamen Street. It's sad to think of Taipei like this. This is a completely black-and-white movie. I think the whole history of China and China is nothing more than a black-and-white movie. It rained like this from beginning to end. I wonder if this feeling comes from antonioni. But that land was a long time ago. Twenty-five years, a quarter of a century, even if it rains, Qian Shan is full of water, and the umbrella is across Qian Shan. In fifteen years, everything was broken, only the climate, only the weather forecast was involved, and a big cold current rolled in from that land. This indifference is shared with the ancient continent. It is a comfort to your children that you can't jump into her arms and be swept by her skirt.
When I think so, I feel a little warm in the cold. In this way, he hopes that these narrow alleys will extend forever, and his thinking can also be extended, not from Jinmen Street to Xiamen Street, but from Jinmen to Xiamen. He is from Xiamen, at least in a broad sense. For twenty years, he has been living in Xiamen Street instead of Xiamen, which is a mockery and a comfort. But in a broad sense, he is also a Jiangnan native, a Changzhou native, a Nanjing native, a Chuanwaer, and a teenager in a broad sense. The apricot blossom and spring rain in the south of the Yangtze River was his boyhood. It will be clear in half a month. Antonioni's lens tossed and turned, tossed and turned. Residual water is like water, and the earth after heaven is like water. There are thousands of people from north to south. Is there porcelain in it? China, of course, will always be China. It's just that the apricot blossom and spring rain are gone, the shepherd boy no longer gives directions, the sword gate is drizzling, and the dust in Weicheng is gone. However, where is the land he dreams of day and night?
In the headlines of the newspaper? Or is it a rumor in Hong Kong? Or black keys Bai Encong's jumping bow and plucking strings? Or is it the hope of antonioni's mirror-ending horse week? Or, in the walls and glass cabinets of the Palace Museum, in the rhyme of Taibai Dongpo in the sound of gongs and drums in Beijing Opera?
Apricot flowers and spring rain in the south of the Yangtze River. Liuge, maybe that piece of soil is in it. Whether it is Chixian, Shenzhou or China, it is changing. As long as Cang Xie's inspiration persists and the beautiful China people are not old, the centripetal force of that image will surely grow. Because a square character is a world. At the beginning, there were words, so the memories and hopes of his ancestors were pinned in the hearts of Han people. For example, write a word "rain" out of thin air, dribs and drabs, torrential rain, all love and rain will be in it. What kind of visual beauty can rain or pluie satisfy? Jin Mu, like fire and water, has become the world by itself. When you enter the "Rain" Department, the ancient China is ever-changing, and you will notice that beautiful frost, snow, clouds and terrible thunder and hail only show God's good temper and bad temper, and the Meteorological Observatory takes pains to read an encyclopedia that laymen can't understand.