In the fall of 2014, I started writing. After a long time, I have met some literary friends from the south and the north. The distance does not alienate us. Instead, it makes us feel more warm in a group and feel sorry for each other. We have a group of authors, where regardless of age, regardless of occupation, regardless of region, the three cups are all confidants.
On the moonlit nights, we talked about dreams without fear in the group, supervised reading and codewords; shared writing skills and the joy of writing; lamenting the outdated paper media, like a generation of old ministers In the face of the earth-shattering New Deal and old tears … We are like two trees on the vast earth, facing each other, the text is the soil that leads to each other, but the lush foliage that grows is our own story.
Writing this way, there is no gongs and drums, no lantern lights, it is a silent night road that no one cares about, the wind and the snow, we are all people who come by accident and walk by the moon. The warmest thing in the world is to meet a group of like-minded friends, blend in with interesting souls, cook tea in the fireplace, and gossip about Hai Tao.
In the river of youth literature, a lot of fresh water flows continuously every day, and many water droplets evaporate quietly. Including myself, sometimes at a certain moment, I suddenly stopped, and my heart was empty, looking around at a loss. I don’t know when to start, open the author group I am attached to, the past laughter is flashy, cold and clear, like the faded “Qingming River Picture”. Even the most lively year-end summary meeting in previous years has only a few people.
Taking care of family, working overtime, changing the direction of writing … fewer and fewer people in the author group. After countless times of watching, I finally understood that those who would say goodbye to others would stay. The real departure is silent. Because we do n’t know how to say goodbye to the people and things we care about, we all have no way to say goodbye. A story ended up with four words: hello, goodbye.
Some time ago, the mobile phone rarely prompted “group chat 99+”. I entered the place happily, and I saw a battlefield filled with smoke. The front of the Chuhe Han border was clear. We all know each other too well, so we know where to hurt the dagger. In the end, the “lost” girl sent a large voice message, meaning that she would be better off from this group, but I clearly heard her trembling cry for a few seconds at the end. “I like you very much, you are not that bad” “Let’s stay” … Every word burned my throat like a red coal ball, I couldn’t say a word of pale comfort, so I was stunned. Staring at the dialog, watching her head like a falling meteor, completely dimmed in the group.
Feelings are sometimes like knitting sweaters, one stitch and one thread, carefully, it takes only a light pull to open. When we first met, we were young, and as long as we had similar interests, we could turn from passers-by to friends. But in the adult world, from a friend to a passerby, one friction is enough. Only those who always stay at the same frequency can resonate forever.
Later, we all grew up and became an isolated island that could not depend on the shore, each with its own mountains, seas, stars and universe. But, dear friend, if we have never met, I am still the one, like a 52 Hz whale, singing alone in the deep sea. I do n’t know that there is a person who feels that they meet each other as soon as they know each other, and fills the gap in each other ’s life as soon as they appear. I would n’t believe that having a silent company is more important than any realistic greeting.
After a long absence, when I think of the wonderful time of urging your knees with you, I still smile and tears. I want to instantly turn into a cloud of light and darkness on your shoulders. I want to read Chu Xue’s whisper in the lingering moonlight to read to you. I want to send you the most shallow and clean heart in the world. Life is only 30,000 days in the world. I hope that every day we spend together is one-tenth of a million romances.
Although August Reno Abbey Henry Mattis was 28 years old, this did not affect the two great artists to make a friendship and become a tacit partner.
In the last ten years of Renoir’s life, he was nearly paralyzed due to arthritis and could only be trapped at home and could not go out. Matisse visited him every day. Despite Renoir’s frailty, he still insisted that he paint every day.
One day, when I saw the aged Renoir busy in the studio, every time I swiped the animation pen, it would bring endless pain. Mattis blurted out: “Old man, you are so painful, don’t continue to paint!”
Renoir’s answer was simple and philosophical: “The pain is gone, but the beauty still exists.” So before he died, after suffering from 14 years of illness, Renoir finally completed the masterpiece “The Bather”.
Renoir had passed away, but his philosophy of happiness remained in the world.