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La Mia Città Invisibile ...不可见之城
03/11/2009 The loneliness thing is overdone
The loneliness thing is overdone.... why i don't feel so?am I too lonely to see, or is the public so lonely to be sensitlive? La prima grande mostra di Edward Hopper in Italia Edward Hopper (1882-1967) è il più popolare e noto artista americano del XX secolo: pittore della vita quotidiana, delle solitudini umane e dei paesaggi, è certamente il riconosciuto caposcuola del Realismo americano.
La mostra, senza precedenti in Italia, è promossa dal Comune di Milano - Cultura e dalla Fondazione Roma uniti per la prima volta in una partnership culturale, con il Whitney Museum of American Art di New York e la Fondation Hermitage di Losanna. La tappa milanese è organizzata e coordinata da Palazzo Reale. L’ideazione, l’organizzazione e il coordinamento dell’intero progetto sulle tre sedi è di Arthemisia Group.
L’esposizione è curata da Carter Foster, curatore e conservatore del Whitney Museum. La storia del Whitney Museum of American Art e dell’artista Edward Hopper sono intrinsecamente legate: la prima mostra personale di Edward Hopper, nel 1920, si tenne al Whitney Studio Club. Nel corso degli anni il Whitney ospitò varie mostre dell’artista, tra cui quelle memorabili del 1950, 1960 e 1984. Dopo la morte di Hopper, nel 1970, la vedova Josephine lasciò proprio al Whitney Museum tutta l’eredità dell’artista in suo possesso: oltre 2500 opere tra dipinti, disegni e incisioni.
Le opere provengono principalmente dal Whitney Museum ma anche dai più importanti musei americani tra cui il Brooklyn Museum of Art di New York, il Terra Foundation for American Art di Chicago e il Columbus Museum of Art.
Suddivisa in sette sezioni, la mostra ripercorre tutta la produzione di Hopper dagli anni in cui studiava a Parigi - con il capolavoro di questo periodo Soir Bleu - fino al periodo “classico” e più noto degli anni ‘30, ‘40 e ’50, per concludere con le grandi e intense immagini degli ultimi anni. Il percorso prende in esame tutte le tecniche predilette dall’artista, l’olio, l’acquerello e l’incisione, con particolare attenzione all’affascinante rapporto che lega i disegni preparatori ai dipinti: un aspetto fondamentale della sua produzione fino ad ora ancora poco considerato nelle rassegne a lui dedicate. In mostra eccezionalmente anche uno dei suoi Artist’s ledger Book, i famosi taccuini che riempiva insieme alla moglie, dove si vedono abbozzati molti dei suoi dipinti a olio. Il visitatore avrà la possibilità, tramite un touch screen, di sfogliarne una riproduzione virtuale.
La mostra ospita eccezionalmente e per la prima volta in Italia l’installazioneFriday, 29th August 1952, 6 A.M., New York di Gustav Deutsch, noto film-maker e video artista austriaco: un’installazione interattiva e multimediale che ricostruisce la scenografia raffigurata nel dipinto Morning Sun (1952) offrendo ai visitatori la possibilità di entrare fisicamente nel mondo di Hopper e diventare così i protagonisti del dipinto.
Dopo la sede milanese la rassegna sarà a Roma, presso il Museo della Fondazione Roma, dal 16 febbraio al 13 giugno 2010 e successivamente a Losanna per l’estate 2010.
"Edward Hopper, the best-known American realist of the inter-war period, once said: 'The man's the work. Something doesn't come out of nothing.' This offers a clue to interpreting the work of an artist who was not only intensely private, but who made solitude and introspection important themes in his painting. "He was born in the small Hudson River town of Nyack, New York State, on 22 July 1882. His family were solidly middle-class: his father owned a dry goods store where the young Hopper sometimes worked after school. By 1899 he had already decided to become an artist, but his parents persuaded him to begin by studying commercial illustration because this seemed to offer a more secure future. He first attended the New York School of Illustrating (more obscure than its title suggests), then in 1900 transferred to the New York School of Art. Here the leading figure and chief instructor was William Merritt Chase (1849-1916), an elegant imitator of Sargent. He also worked under Robert Henri (1869-1929), one of the fathers of American Realism - a man whom he later described as 'the most influential teacher I had', adding 'men didn't get much from Chase; there were mostly women in the class.' Hopper was a slow developer - he remained at the School of Art for seven years, latterly undertaking some teaching work himself. However, like the majority of the young American artists of the time, he longed to study in France. With his parents' help he finally left for Paris in October 1906. This was an exciting moment in the history of the Modern movement, but Hopper was to claim that its effect on him was minimal: Whom did I meet? Nobody. I'd heard of Gertrude Stein, but I don't remember having heard of Picasso at all. I used to go to the cafés at night and sit and watch. I went to the theatre a little. Paris had no great or immediate impact on me. "In addition to spending some months in Paris, he visited London, Amsterdam, Berlin and Brussels. The picture that seems to have impressed him most was Rembrandt's The Night Watch (in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam). Hopper was able to repeat his trip to Europe in 1909 and 1910. On the second occasion he visited Spain as well as France. After this, though he was to remain a restless traveller, he never set foot in Europe again. Yet its influence was to remain with him for a long time: he was well read in French literature, and could quote Verlaine in the original, as his future wife discovered (he was surprised when she finished the quotation for him). He said later: '[America] seemed awfully crude and raw when I got back. It took me ten years to get over Europe.' For some time his painting was full of reminiscences of what he had seen abroad. This tendency culminates in Soir Bleu of 1914, a recollection of the Mi-Caréme carnival in Paris, and one of the largest pictures Hopper ever painted. It failed to attract any attention when he showed it in a mixed exhibition in the following year, and it was this failure which threw him back to working on the American subjects with which his reputation is now associated. In 1913 Hopper made his first sale - a picture exhibited at the Armory Show in New York which brought together American artists and all the leading European modernists. In 1920 he had his first solo exhibition, at the Whitney Studio Club, but on this occasion none of the paintings sold. He was already thirty-seven and beginning to doubt if he would achieve any success as an artist - he was still forced to earn a living as a commercial illustrator. One way round this dilemma was to make prints, for which at that time there was a rising new market. These sold more readily than his paintings, and Hopper then moved to making watercolours, which sold more readily still. "Hopper had settled in Greenwich Village, which was to be his base for the rest of his life, and in 1923 he renewed his friendship with a neighbour, Jo Nivison, whom he had known when they were fellow students under Chase and Henri. She was now forty; Hopper was forty-two. In the following year they married. Their long and complex relationship was to be the most important of the artist's life. Fiercely loyal to her husband, Jo felt in many respects oppressed by him. In particular, she felt that he did nothing to encourage her own development as a painter, but on the contrary did everything to frustrate it. 'Ed,' she confided to her diary, 'is the very centre of my universe... If I'm on the point of being very happy, he sees to it that I'm not.' The couple often quarrelled fiercely (an early subject of contention was Jo's devotion to her cat Arthur, whom Hopper regarded as a rival for her attention). Sometimes their rows exploded into physical violence, and on one occasion, just before a trip to Mexico, Jo bit Hopper's hand to the bone. On the other hand, her presence was essential to his work, sometimes literally so, since she now modelled for all the female figures in his paintings, and was adept at enacting the various roles he required. "From the time of his marriage, Hopper's professional fortunes changed. His second solo show, at the Rehn Gallery in New York in 1924, was a sell-out. The following year, he painted what is now generally acknowledged to be his first fully mature picture, The House by the Railroad. With its deliberate, disciplined spareness, this is typical of what he was to create thereafter. His paintings combine apparently incompatible qualities. Modern in their bleakness and simplicity, they are also full of nostalgia for the puritan virtues of the American past - the kind of quirky nineteenth-century architecture Hopper liked to paint, for instance, could not have been more out of fashion than it was in the mid-192OS, when he first began to look at it seriously. Though his compositions are supposedly realist they also make frequent use of covert symbolism. Hopper's paintings have, in this respect, been rather aptly compared to the realist plays of Ibsen, a writer whom he admired. "One of the themes of The House by the Railroad is the loneliness of travel, and the Hoppers now began to travel widely within the United States, as well as going on trips to Mexico. Their mobility was made possible by the fact that they were now sufficiently prosperous to buy a car. This became another subject of contention between the artist and his wife, since Hopper, not a good driver himself, resisted Jo's wish to learn to drive too. She did not acquire a driving licence until 1936, and even then her husband was extremely reluctant to allow her control of their automobile. "By this time Hopper, whose career, once it took off, was surprisingly little affected by the Depression, had become extremely well known. In 1929, he was included in the Museum of Modern Art's second exhibition,Paintings by Nineteen Living Americans, and in 1930 The House by the Railroad entered the museum's permanent collection, as a gift from the millionaire collector Stephen Clark. In the same year, the Whitney Museum bought Hopper's Early Sunday Morning, its most expensive purchase up to that time. In 1933 Hopper was given a retrospective exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art. This was followed, in 1950, by a fuller retrospective show at the Whitney. "Hopper became a pictorial poet who recorded the starkness and vastness of America. Sometimes he expressed aspects of this in traditional guise, as, for example, in his pictures of lighthouses and harsh New England landscapes; sometimes New York was his context, with eloquent cityscapes, often showing deserted streets at night. Some paintings, such as his celebrated image of a gas-station, Gas (1940), even have elements which anticipate Pop Art. Hopper once said: 'To me the most important thing is the sense of going on. You know how beautiful things are when you're travelling.' "He painted hotels, motels, trains and highways, and also liked to paint the public and semi-public places where people gathered: restaurants,theatres, cinemas and offices. But even in these paintings he stressed the theme of loneliness - his theatres are often semideserted, with a few patrons waiting for the curtain to go up or the performers isolated in the fierce light of the stage. Hopper was a frequent movie-goer, and there is often a cinematic quality in his work. As the years went on, however, he found suitable subjects increasingly difficult to discover, and often felt blocked and unable to paint. His contemporary the painter Charles Burchfield wrote: 'With Hopper the whole fabric of his art seems to be interwoven with his personal character and manner of living.' When the link between the outer world he observed and the inner world of feeling and fantasy broke, Hopper found he was unable to create. "In particular, the rise of Abstract Expressionism left him marooned artistically, for he disapproved of many aspects of the new art. He died in 1967, isolated if not forgotten, and Jo Hopper died ten months later. His true importance has only been fully realized in the years since his death." - Text from "Lives of the Great 20th-Century Artists", by Edward Lucie-Smith
I giorni come oggi le mostre come questa le sensazioni come di adesso... IO voglia condivideve con TE...SEMPRE e PER SEMPRE
Grazie... per conoscerti...
Because of u my loneliness was always bright 25/10/2009 왜一个大喊大笑大开大放的人,一个隐忍泪水的人,一个妖孽而保守的男人
一瘪嘴一扭头,一个转身的距离,偷窥到了你藏起来的脆弱和孩子气
讨厌过你的人被秒杀,张着嘴托着下巴,试图钻进你钻不进去的心里
也罢也罢
爱你,不是因为你像曾经的我,也不是因为你或许会变成现在的我
只是爱一切的张扬而婉转,华丽而低调,一切的不以为意,一切的随心所欲,一切的假装固执坏脾气,一切的臭脚丫烂pp,
一切一切的。。。。。。别人看在眼里却未必明白在心里
我,记住了你,在心里
你眼角的星光。。。一闪一闪,想起了却又想不起,很远的未来不远的过去,
我相信那是很多很多的日子。。。飘落在你柔软的眼眸里
心痛得站起,又不知所措的坐下,
轻轻铺好苍穹,只想用夜幕般温柔的天鹅绒
珍藏你的眼睛
19/09/2009 一生平安包子在9月8号写给我的《一路平安》,刚刚才看到
我还是一个感情丰富的人,但是现在偶尔哭一次都觉得好稀罕,也不再总是说爱呀爱的,真爱,就去为TA做点什么。 低调得逃脱出所有的视野,可一放假回去,照旧在你们目光的角落里得瑟着性情着原封未动着 你把人家弄哭了又。。。
8年前,我在北京的夜晚喝了一壶永远沉醉的酒,你给我戴上一对指环一条长锁,告诉我哪怕每天看一眼你永远都在我身边; 16年前,我在附中高一六班教室的前排发现了只好看又可口的包子,津津有味吃了这么多年。。。觉得怎么都过不去的时候你总是轻轻拥住我的肩; 19年前,我在最嚣张的青春遇到了一生的忠诚,你一直都像那天下午一样,为一个电话赶到我身边,无论我是为死去的小蜜蜂哭泣还是任何别的事情; 在盘古开天辟地以前,在宇宙大爆炸前的混沌状态,在神还没有创造光的时候... 一颗内向火爆却正直善良的戎马小精子,和一颗纯真美丽而聪敏贤惠的胶东小卵子相遇了,碰撞出了一个亦正亦邪~亦庄亦谐~滴小火苗,从此点燃了一段生命的火炬 小火苗自由而纯粹,内敛而奔放,父母用尽一切的能量去支持她理解她爱护她,只是希望她能够尽量按照自己的意愿燃烧。。。 造物对于此火苗多加恩宠和眷顾,不一而足, 仅举一小栗子说明,某日山雷滚滚,乌云密布,狂风大作,眼看将有大雨倾盆,此小火苗外出购物归来,见此情景遂向天喃喃祈祷:老天爷,求求你了,不要下雨哦,等我到家再说好不好?你要是不下雨,我以后就变很乖,特别特别特别乖!...blablabla.... 如此这般,果真雨就没下下来,等到小火苗进了家门,才立刻大雨如注。 跟这种种小眷顾比起来,造物赐予她的最大的眷顾则是,亲近的人们对她满溢的爱和理解。 有人离开过她,但是没有人真正伤害过她,火苗遇到的都是令人心疼的好人。。。 我是被你们选中的,不管那背后是造物指使还是命运安排,我要努力让你们为这选择而幸福。
(转自包子博客)2009-09-08 | 一路平安
虽然知道明年的相聚并不遥远,但分别还是让我感伤。不能摸起电话就讲,不能一块做瑜伽、美容,不能一起吃水煮鱼,不能相约相伴...... 一个人到那么远的地方,真的让人心疼,要吃胖一点啊!我现在体会出了以前姥姥心疼我总是嘱咐我多吃东西的心情。 记得高一课堂,老郑讲了有趣的事情,我总是看见一个腼腆的小姑娘捂着嘴偷偷笑,当时就想结识她,于是课间操的路上有意无意的接近。这是我唯一主动交友, 也是让我感激至今的一次主动,要不然怎么会有这份默契难得的友谊?那天听你说起,一入学就觉得有个小姑娘长得特别漂亮,于是主动结识。 呵呵,我们好像是谈了一场恋爱呢!十七年里我们共同成长,在彼此的喜怒哀乐中,在相互的宽慰鼓励中,结结实实的长大了。多少次我们中的一个出了状况, 互相打气、指引,如果没有你的支持我可能会少很多快乐和坚持。一路走来,我们褪去青涩和无知,增添了自信和成熟,而纯心如故。
无论何时何地,不要低沉,上天给了你如此才情,一定会给你长久的幸福!一路平安!
20/05/2009 完美是没有力量的我终于度过了强迫症时期,对于艺术作品不再定义为美和不美了,而是有趣和无趣。美,特别是完美的东西原来都那么无趣,为什么呢?因为没有力量。没有力量的东西使人压抑。压抑的破碎的残缺的却能使人获得力量,这是一种平衡吧,在审美中暗暗传递的力的平衡。
这个其实很早就在思考了,某些意识在接触现代艺术之后快速的生长着,有了一个明确的认识是在听了谭盾音乐会之后。
还有思考,被触动的思考,或者说启发,也放在以后慢慢说吧
嘿嘿,我又不写了,因为最近很忙,为了不让自己忘记思想的变化和成长,先留个引子,忙完了慢慢写。
另外,朱孝远这个人挺有意思,我喜欢,跟yy在某些方面极其打动我很相似
偶然看到曾经的一首诗《魔》,现在回过头来看依然觉得带劲儿,我是一种气候,包含了五颜六色奇形怪状的天气们,最终又总能流程一条宽阔的河。
真是一个有趣的姑娘呀,我。
一遍遍地看
一遍遍地看 ... 看到瞳孔溃烂
看到血液变蓝 看到内心深沉处 看到故事的彼岸 看到绝望尽头 看到蛇信般的烈焰 看到虚妄的残垣 看到火鸟永不涅磐 看透这万丈深渊
如两只箭
刺穿双眼 20/04/2009 床上的五分钟我怎么就这么不想写字儿呢?我怎么就这么不想起床呢?我怎么就这么不再热爱下雨的阴天呢?
我把时间都融化了,于是不知不觉不知不觉溜走得无影无踪。
有的时候会有那么一瞬的慌张,像是心里刮进了一些不知方向的风,可是妈妈说过,快乐也是一天,烦恼也是一天。
最近比较规律的运动着,每天下午即使是下了班累得东倒西歪,也还很勇敢的换上衣服就跑下去打羽毛球。真喜欢家前面广阔的草地,每次在里面跑来跑去,就可以大口大口呼吸青草地湿漉漉的香味儿。一开始总接不住怪力音的发球,拼了命的反击,球还是怯生生的摇摇晃晃摇摇晃晃。。。令人很是不爽,这可是我吃奶的劲儿啊!好胜的心也要适可而止吧。
最近迷上了现代艺术,以前真得是看不懂(现在也看不太懂),不喜欢破铜烂铁随便一搭就艺术了,每个人原始的本能都是右派,想着一切艺术必须是形而上的艰涩的优雅的完美的千辛万苦的,内心那么一个似乎是神圣的规则被打破了,自然而然的不屑。可是什么是艺术呢?什么是美呢?什么是形而上呢?什么什么什么呢?在规则里生活惯了的就会把规则当做理所当然,就会有绝对的是非感,但感觉要怎么规范呢?被触动的心情要怎么见个高下呢?将一百万个人打动的是艺术,将一个人打动的就不是艺术了么?爱恨喜怒是感觉,好多好多细微的无法形容的感觉就不是感觉了么?我不高兴就去shopping,开心就做各种各样好吃的,伤心就装作不在乎,喜欢一个人就去数花瓣,那么可不可以我如果怎样怎样就去艺术呢?在“就。。。”后面的行为不就是一个表达的方式么,就像一个鼓风机,将体内的某种情绪吹散出去,保证此情绪ph值的正常。看了magritte的展览,看得时候还没觉得什么,回来越想越有趣儿,那些神秘的画们成为了我奇幻梦境的背景,墙上的人影总是带着礼帽,原来阴影的地方望过去是一望无际湖水,天鹅融般的天空里,白色的天鹅戴着王冠在游来游去,而我的嘴里叼着烟斗坐在黎明前的灯光里,用珍珠粘出不知谁的脸孔。。。这一切是一首诗个谜一支神曲,唯独不是一幅画。。。这就是所谓的通感吗?在这里,印象是唯一的,意向是随心所欲的,感觉是奇妙的。因此,我决定不再戴上黑框眼镜,拿个小木棒儿这儿点点那儿敲敲,而是穿得舒舒服服情绪放松的去试试,喜欢的就继续喜欢,不合口味的也无所谓。看得多了,心里也痒痒的,也会有把牛奶瓶子面包盒子布头纸屑坏了的电饭煲切割弯折摆弄出韵律的冲动。。。心灵会被形形色色的感受揉成劲道的面团,越来越有嚼头吧?
最近小宇宙一会儿爆发一会发蔫,已经被折磨的快残了,自闭的倾向已经发展到看见黄皮肤黑头发就想跑的境界(我们家那两位和yy除外)
快到点儿了,下午要去下学校,我得干正事儿去了~
08/02/2009 撑着伞的小狗2.6
小狗撑着伞
在有盖的密室里跟着天空
一起下雨
只因吃了两块classico的巧克力
小狗撑着伞
绿色的小心心被栽种在白色的小盆盆里
小狗撑着伞
仰天叹息,却看到五花六花的巧克力
疙瘩汤像流星一般依依不舍划过天际
落下了一颗甜蜜泪滴
小狗撑着伞
梦想雨过天晴的时候会有一树的南瓜羹跟水煮鱼
炒鸡肝和疙瘩汤我觉得,友情也是一种爱情
牵挂,容忍,扶持,真诚,付出
一种更容易执子之手,与子偕老的爱情
我很少要你做什么
而你要我做的我都尽心尽力
把细碎的艰难省略,
只想跟你说“行!”
通常,我并不是这样的人
赖皮任性,爱麻烦别人,却又独来独往,我行我素,疏于打理关系
对于你,其实有点小心翼翼
害怕碰碎了之间的某些东西
这样的勉强自己竟丝毫不疲惫
因为那种纯粹的真挚的舒服的。。。
。。。跟你在一起的感觉无法从他人身上得到因而弥足珍贵
知道你对我好。。。
可我甘愿付出,不求回报不为这个 人生第二次遇到强大的人格魅力
挑剔的我终于又可以享受到被吸引的乐趣
我希望,有一天遇到如你一般的男人
霸气而大气
真实而可爱
自以为是却充满智慧
一针见血而无比坦率
你说你浑身都是缺点
可为什么你会有一颗正直善良纯粹的心
令我动容
将我折服?
脱下浑身荆棘,掏出温柔
执着地跟随?
朋友,有多幸运认识你!
不为烈火般的思念焚身
不为深渊般的妒忌痛苦
我希望,爱情就像友情
生活,就像令人心甘情愿的白水
17/11/2008 (原版)一只有思想的海
海,真是芬芳阿!
坐在栈桥的尽头,栈桥伸向海的尽头,海,探索着黑暗的尽头。。。
我闲闲得依着栏杆,将手递向远方,抚过丝绸般的夜色。。。
黑暗从指缝跌落拍打在礁石上,耳中听到了华丽丽的节奏,
那是,盼望已久的宁静。
剪一个毛茸茸的蓬蓬头,满满的行李全是渴望。
一个并非海边出生的个体,却将人生的每个重点都带进了海的涛声。。。。。。
无法忍受无法忍受无法忍受的那么那么多,但是,
可以忍受可以忍受可以忍受可以忍受得更加更加多
吊着维亚擎着火炬在漫长焦灼口干舌燥的梦境中跑了一圈一圈又一圈,瞳孔里只映得下一片温暖透明无边无际的大海。。。。。
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风是很多飞翔的脚印,而某便是踩着风飞向大海的小狗
在梦中反复听到那首歌,远山迷迷朦朦,坐在湖边,心里是海。。。
去Puglia是一瞬间的决定,我想如果一整个夏天都宅在家里,将真的不得不变成一个面目狰狞可憎的人。
即便。。。有遇到讨厌的人类的危险,却也存在撞到情投意合同类的幸运,权衡再三,改变,总是更好。
把实践命运这个题目交由时间处理,自己,点燃十二万分的兴致去迎接就好,不刻意反而最容易得到惊喜。
是不是一只一定要变成火山的狗?或者只是要在狗的心里有一座活泼泼华丽丽的火山?
其实,一个方向足矣。
不知会跑到哪里。。。又能跑到哪里?!
撒开了欢儿得跑去吧,反而不需要寻找。
宿命是无意识的自我在岁月中的流浪,而流浪中的不期而遇就是优雅的转身。
妄自菲薄的人噤若寒蝉,乐观开朗的孩子则将自我与他人放纵,在海的广阔中紧密、疏离、紧密、疏离、紧密、疏离、再紧密、再疏离。。。
一而再再而三及离如波而延绵而韵律而臻美而和谐。
无欲者无求,无累者无忧
翻开海底的石块发现一头肥美鲍鱼,用想么?趁热一口就吃下去了!
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读史的时候曾多次困惑,亘古以来,山川易容,朝代更迭,这个世界从不在乎任何人和事的到来与离去,所谓的历史是如相机般精确的反射,还是国画中的疏可跑马神似即可?
若是后者,那些可疑的、费解的、沉默的内幕岂不如鲠在喉?
那些微妙的、有趣的、不可捉摸的细节,是怎样在我还未存在的日子里,悄悄发生,又销魂蚀骨滴改变了几多人生与蒙昧地球?
翻看从前的文章,发现那么多都没有发出来过。
一直对自己的东西有一种藏酒心态,细细整饬自家所藏。。。
忘却甚至还酿过如此烈酒,轻舔一口也教人七窍生烟七步而亡。
斜倚书桌昏昏欲睡的此刻,漫不经心嗑开每颗文字的壳,尝出包蕴在内彼时的滋味,奇妙如饮历久弥醺,只是暂要将它留在味蕾寓于唇齿间,
或者。。。再窖它十年八年。。。
忽然,灵窍顿开,这历史的苦心,
岁月浓墨重彩游龙走凤,品出骨韵便是得了三昧,
至于那书写间颤抖的墨滴氤氲的启承洒脱的尾风,看客看不到也不必看到,
只需,存于书者心中。
05/11/2008 朕生命中滴tesoro“刚刚做梦梦到你
一个劲儿让我捶背按摩
说得使唤使唤我
不然无处发泄
我不停的按
一会儿问你够了吧
你就是摇头说:不够!不够!
还拿出一副甲方乙方里刘蓓那个找打的模样
于是我只好按呀按
累得快虚脱了
就醒了
梦告诉我:我想你了
最近好不?身体咋样?
豌豆立冬就两岁了
你去意大利时,她还在肚子里呢
她念叨你不下二十次
一点不夸张
她总说:我的小冬冬阿姨在意大利呢!”
正在跟阳阳打电话的时候收到了你的短信,本想立刻打回去,可是一算国内正在深夜,你一定是惊醒了。。。还是让你好好入睡吧
总是像做节目一样
你的文风你的为人。。。点到即止
当情感的表达是疏可跑马的留白
有的人看不到
那么成熟干吗?那么坚强干吗?那么无敌干吗?
录了一天的像,累死人了
。。。我们去房顶上喝杯小酒吧
泛黄,暗转
我曾经的 强大的姐姐!请坐下来,像那个一见知己的北京夜晚,
坐下坐下,给我炒个腰花吧(怀念你的手艺啊)!
跟我聊聊生活吧(庄子是我们滴氧气呐)!
我们永远永远都是顶脆弱滴小姑娘,需要安慰,需要拥抱,需要一个靠起来不高不低舒适滴肩膀,
坐下来,放下你强大的外罩,你就“唰”滴变身永远永远让我呵护的小妹妹
我滴内心一定定时强大,渲染你暂时低落滴小宇宙
山很高爬很累的时候,脑袋里请播放多年前那句录音“虽然只有5000块钱,你都拿去吧!”
我是独生的小孩,没有朋友我就什么都过不去
4个,有4个人,对你们,竭尽全力
跟你说:不够!这辈子都不够!按下去吧!
别想溜,说你哪!说好陪伴我一生的!
你给我清醒起来,哪怕这是夜里3点
你给我听着!
那些困扰你的东西不过是个P!
再臭也只是气体,会消散,连个疤都留不下!
哭出来吧!尽管哭吧!即使现在一切都好
像烟雾般懦弱,像花朵般不堪一击,请由着你的性子撒娇任性
只是在心里给自己确定一个方向
不要想,不要急,不要怯,不要慌
脚踏实地慢慢来慢慢来。。。总有一天 往前走成为本能
4个,有4个人,对你们,竭尽全力
只是,给我好好滴!乖乖滴!幸福滴!勇敢滴!
小豌豆,小姨想你!
你个小东西不许长太快
让小姨错过了最精彩的部分 回去亲死你!
02/11/2008 it's ** time凭直觉总不会错
喜欢的东西原来变了这么多
境界是超越后的达到吗?
境界是passa之后再passa
干净的乖巧的正派的纯洁的诚实的。。。
完美卸了妆形容真枯槁
虚伪因温暖空洞柔软而让人感到亲近
真实仍是颗歪脖子树
适合坐在下面读佛洛依德的书
撬井盖的人在下水道发现了宝物
误会了黑暗就误会了光明
4对于某人是个好数
淡紫色裙子的少女在晴朗的天气请多多出现
那些只有我知道的美丽
一定
好好守护
对得起现在就对不起过去
未来不在乎过去
寸步不离地拉着现在
我轻轻牵起它的手
我和现在会好好抚养你
过去,再见
24/10/2008 与其在小哀小愁中讨价还价,不如在大悲大喜后轻松过活把喜欢的人捧上天堂,完美得就差在背后插两只翅膀;讨厌的人却被描写成地狱。从不想自己的问题,习惯性或潜意识把过错都归咎于他人,人生真得存在悲剧吗?还是我们自己把一切可以想得开放得下的事情提升到不幸的层次?即便从小就笃信天主教,这样的觉悟上帝也会感到羞愧吧。可怜之人必有可恨之处,首恨就是那讨厌的苍白的只想博取同情的懦弱,请对自己负责吧!请执着于更有意义的事情吧!请看开些吧!人生是可以用数字表达的清清楚楚的,不管单位是秒是分还是日月年,永远在后一个periodo懊悔前一个periodo中做的事情的人不配拥有幸福。
a xi!可怜你但是不同情你!
13/10/2008 从此俺素包子滴女银!24/09/2008 生日愿望:认真做人,勤恳做事
16/09/2008 从身体里溜走很美很美的夕阳,挂在树梢上,像期待被我吃掉的橙子。
宅在家的土豆长了牙
心里痒痒,
真想被扔掉,也不要被遥遥无期地炖上
有谁喜欢吃田里新鲜的玉米?
行行好
田埂不高
守田的不知去向
晚风很响
夜晚有一种 透明的凉
爬出桂花阁楼
我能不能 过片刻再捣?
06/09/2008 感慨很多
刚刚收到阳阳的来信,她写道“哎~生命是如此的不可思议,哈哈,把生命交给命运吧!他让我伤害谁,为谁奉献,何时得到真爱,咱还真改变不了!”
每个人都有自己的幸运,对于我来说,不能交心不能深谈不真挚的人不是朋友,对于身边最近的人我总有一种品质上的苛求。 人要现实但不能世俗、庸俗,甘于平凡但不能甘于平庸。赤子之心并非能自动逢凶化吉遇难成祥,需要我们时时刻刻很小心很小心的保护。
而我的幸运在于,在这样一个浮躁混乱现实的时代和社会,能够拥有几个睿智宽容淡定真诚的好友。 无论是在家里的王子哥,吕晔,陈丽娟还是在这里的阳阳,对人正直善良,对事勤恳敬业,困难时相互帮助,迷惘时互相开解。 尤其吕晔和阳阳,在清谈时常常令我走出迷津,醍醐灌顶。
物质的需求可以满足生理,精神的需求才能满足灵魂。 小的时候爸爸常常向我感慨官场的不易,他虽然在别人眼里是成功的,可是在心里真的满足吗? 权力金钱如今安逸的生活就可以弥补爸爸心中这么多年的孤独无助与付出吗?我不相信。 如果可以我希望能让爸爸重新活一遍,让对名利淡薄的爸爸让正直善良的爸爸自由自在的按自己的意愿再活一遍 所以我不要这样的人生,我不知道未来有什么在等待我,我要努力活得真实,为亲人家庭不计较付出但绝不仅仅为得到别人的认可而牺牲自我。 我也不允许自己变得势力尖刻虚荣虚伪,失去真挚的友谊。 不随便相信别人,也决不放弃对他人的信任。 有限度的妥协,心里永远清楚自己的原则。
谢谢一切令我思考的人。
另外,在这方面我特别不想做男人,电视中那种男人之间肝胆相照两肋插刀的友情,现实中真是没见过,不互相拆台就不错了。 现实环境污染太严重,而男人间的soulmate也许是一种气体,二氧化硫太多,估计跟臭氧层一样,都给毁了吧? 可能我熟的男生不够多
妈妈是世界上最可爱的生物昨晚熬夜作图,忽然听到“当当”两下敲门声,迅速浏览一下在线的两个qq,果然,妈妈上线了!
吓得我赶紧跳下来,习惯了熬夜,但是总是忘了到妈妈上班的时间要下来,否则她看到又要担心
果然今天早晨打开qq,妈妈对“糯米小团兹”说:宝宝溜的很快,不要睡的太晚,对身体不好。
对“傻乎乎的兔子”说:吃萝卜的小兔子,妈妈给你买,让你吃的胖胖的,好有劲!
妈妈真是这个世界上最可爱的生物啊~
29/08/2008 做一片有思想的海21/07/2008 解释一下谢谢几个朋友对我的关心,还有一些朋友对我照片的期待。
我现在分离的能力极低,尤其是和爸爸妈妈
每次离开他们我都会陷入低迷的状态,很久缓不过来
所以也没心情传照片
今天太晚了,没传完的改天接着传吧
i'm sorry to upload the photos so late 10/07/2008 蜜桃成熟时我经常想写很多很多文字,用以表达长久以来的某种思考或者情绪。
就像把一颗种子埋在身体里,起初只淡如烟雾,被幻想、激情、狂喜或愤怒等等情绪慢慢煨着,直到某个时刻,胀大得感觉必须把它生出来
而恰在此时,却已找不到当初的激动,丢失了过程
宛如一个迫不及待要掉落的果实在等待中腐败,只剩下种子
没有过程的结论,就是干瘪的乏味的结论,不管它多么精华多么切中要害
。。。得随身带个可以录音的机器 03/07/2008 CHI SONO?
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