Chun Qing shaohua photography exhibition hall

Time is not old, and youth is not exhausted.

The early summer is cool, and the years are fragrant, like an altar of aging, which has been lingering in Micari for a long time. In the years of singing, I sang while walking, and walked through the wet and cold morning, the sleepy afternoon, the fading dusk, and bid farewell to youth in the afterglow of the sunset.

With a flick of a finger, youth is getting older, like the wind in July, and hibiscus is in full swing, leaving a touch of ink in life and telling the story of you and me to the years. ...

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Lonely afternoon, a person's journey, carrying a tired body, starting from strangers, all kinds of dialects are mixed with inappropriate and indecent jokes, noisy and noisy, which almost makes people sleepy. Sitting by the window, I want to enjoy the beautiful scenery along the way. Unexpectedly, after the curtains were opened, you were greeted by poplars in twos and threes, rugged puddles, soaring with green grass and flowers and trees, and the sky was high and the clouds were light. A moment of disappointment made my good intentions go up in smoke. I smiled and felt relieved. How can life be satisfactory? Just close your eyes and outline the scenery and mood you should have at the beginning.

The sun shines lazily on the body through the window, and the cool wind blows gently. Blue sky and green hills are very comfortable. My thoughts are running in the three-level wind speed of 17, and my memory is solidified in those slightly moist eyes. If you ignore life, more than a thousand days and nights slip through your fingers inadvertently. Today last year, as if it were just in front of us, pavilions, lakes and mountains, bustling crowds, as if it were just yesterday. ...

What slips away is time, but what is remembered is memories. Just like that notebook with glazed cover and full of things, it will always be treasured. Years later, I will still remember those people. ...

I will remember Tan Zhongke, outstanding and romantic. Although he was excellent, he won a box full of various awards. Awards seem to be a form for him, piled up in the corner like waste paper and ignored, covered with dust, adding the imprint of years. In his view, the only thing to be proud of is that his photographic works have been included in the Yearbook of Photography for College Students, in which his works have been published in a large space. Familiar people all think that Tan Ke's photos can reflect people's soul, so do I. His amazing authority in photography technology has been unanimously praised, and people have nicknamed him "Almighty King" without a name.

I remember Ma Shihua, handsome and confident, as confident as he was. Without making any preparations for the speech contest of hundreds of people in the hospital, he was so "alone" that he talked in Kan Kan on the stage without any nervousness. The judges in the audience nodded and praised again and again, and finally won the grand prize with overwhelming advantage. Or in the "University Debate Competition", the tongue is bursting with lotus flowers and the eloquence is outstanding, which makes the debater speechless and "surrender". In his words, standing on the stage is "three or five steps to travel all over the world, six or seven people and one million soldiers." At least I can't lose momentum, so I'll take a walk.

I remember Du Shunjun, who was diligent and studious, was as diligent as he was. For 365 days, he spent half his time in the library, soaking in books and records full of sweat and cows. For him, nothing is more commendable than his calligraphy, which is characterized by writing, spreading paper and dipping in ink, leisurely and carefree, flowing freely, taking a long snake with a pen in one go, and ending with "floating like a cloud, dexterous as a dragon", which is called drunkenness and strong face. If Mr. You Jun had survived, he would have stroked his beard and said with a smile, "Yes, yes, this son's calligraphy is magnificent, and his statutes are just so. It has already taken shape." He got three flavors from me, and I am lucky, I am not alone. " In the calligraphy exhibition hall, books and calligraphy stickers with the pen name "Jinghong" occupy two-thirds of the exhibition hall. Running script, official script, cursive script and seal script have different forms, which have become personal calligraphy exhibitions, and people have given them the nickname "Book God".

I remember that Wang Haipeng was a clever man, as clever as he was. Whenever a burly, talented teacher asks strange questions, and we dare to resist the beauty of nature and do nothing, "strategist" Haipeng will say that "mountain people have their own tricks", and those who are eager to make a profit will ask him "Will the plan come out?" The "military adviser" will smile indifferently, then dredge the cumbersome, simplify the complicated, and write it in three or two times. We are happy to follow suit. "Military strategist" has a saying that things are complicated. Investigating its origin, there is a saying that "complexity is simple, cleverness is clumsy, sound is good, and image is invisible". With this good word, we are deeply inspired, remember it for five minutes, and have been doing the problem quickly ever since.

I remember the free and easy Yang Zhiyong, as free and easy as him, with a bright smile on his lips. People say that smiling is contagious, and I think so. Zhiyong's smile is the most charming. It was gentle at first, and then the corners of the mouth were blown up 45 degrees, slowly filling the whole cheek, revealing a white tooth, bright and kind. This kind of smile is undoubtedly the most lethal to girls. I vaguely remember the love letter written by the girl who chased him. "To this day, I still remember his smile. It was a dark evening. I dragged my tired body and my heavy suitcase into the school gate. When I looked up, I happened to meet that smile and smiled at me. At the moment, my brain is blank. What kind of smile is that? Oh, I see, it turned out that an angel kissed his mouth ... "This is the most touching love letter I have ever seen. Accordingly, a brave smile can be seen in just a few words. Appreciate his free and easy, carefree, but also appreciate his "love O2O" smile.

I remember that He Qiang, who is well-read and versatile, is as knowledgeable as he is. He is famous for his astronomy, geography, literary talent, martial arts, music, a subset of classics and history, unofficial history, Daoism, Eight Diagrams and the Book of Changes, and Machamp's confusion of gods, from Yao and Shun's parallel specialization and searching for gods in mountains and seas to fishing and daily necessities in the Yellow Sea.

By the way, I still remember that Yu Xing, who had a musical dream, was as persistent and crazy as him. His passion for music is almost infatuated, he stays up all night and forgets to eat and sleep. An acoustic guitar was given life in his hands, punk, rock, and violent venting. Several times, he begged me to write him a few words. For a talented musician, I should "go through fire and water". But I know that I can't write with my bald pen, so I politely refused. However, I couldn't bear his repeated entreaties, so I tried to write a few poor words and sentences for him. I didn't expect him to play any immortal divine comedy. "This song should only be in the sky. What is the news on earth?" This is his wish, and it also saves me trouble. But he really popped up, and the words within reach became notes, jumping on the strings. I have always liked the guzheng, but now he plays the voice of the guzheng with his guitar, "Gong, Shang, Jiao, Zheng and Yu", and the five tones naturally flow to connect the two. In my opinion, Ji Kang's Guangling San is nothing more than that. It's the notes that jump, but the heartstrings that touch. Well deserved.

As for me, I am the least brilliant person, but I only use my humble pen to describe the passage of time, not to praise the quietness of the years, nor to write the wonderful life, nor to interpret the beauty of youth. I was born to write loneliness, sadness, wind and rain, and put pen to paper. Perhaps this is my truest portrayal, walking alone on a desolate time building, overlooking the years. Put it in the east wind. If you happen to pick up this leaf full of my worries on the promenade one afternoon, please remember to write your name. I believe that time will arrange for me to meet the most beautiful you at the most beautiful time. ...

Origin and fate, duckweed life, gathering and scattering for no reason, in the light of a flick of a finger, can not hold back after all is the moment of youth. Maybe you will have a little expectation in your heart. Will you see your happy figure in the afterglow of the sunset, will you meet unexpectedly at a ferry and say, "Hi, brother, how are you?"

As before ...