Everyone should have his own well (3 wells per week)

Japanese poet Gao Qiao Murang wrote in his poem Looking for Wells: "Everyone should have his own well."

He said: "It travels on the continuous peat mountain. It is the language of wisdom and smells of taught hay."

In Haruki Murakami's novel Pinball in 1973, the protagonist "I" mentioned the well many times: "I like that well. As soon as I saw the well, I threw stones into it repeatedly. Nothing comforts me more than the sound of stones hitting the surface of a deep well. "

In other words, Japanese literature seems to be very inclined to explore and explore the inner world. That indifferent, silent, quietly, there is no lack of confusion about self and life, emitting a magnet-like attraction.

In the first half of the year, I watched the Japanese film "Tokyo Rihe" (based on the collection of photographic essays of the same name by photographer Nobuyoshi Araki). I just read Tsumura Kikuko's collection of short stories "If Love" the other day. Last night, I almost finished reading nanae Aoyama's novel One's Fine Weather in one breath. A literary friend commented: Japanese people are really sad. I feel the same way.

However, I still heard "the sound of stones hitting the water surface of a deep well", which made me "relieved".

Find the well in your heart in your own way. Dig it out Enjoy the clear well water.

Yes, that's it.

2

Last Monday to Friday, I read books before going to bed every night, and basically finished reading Feng Tang's 3rd16th National Congress and several pages of Faulkner's Go, Moses.

Feng Tang's writing has always been controversial. People you like are happy, while people you don't like are reviled. However, these have nothing to do with me.

I just like what he described as straightforward, arbitrary, even reckless and even arrogant. Like him, I see that I can express myself and my thoughts in this way, just like Chris Lee sang Wild Growth: "You can't stand it? I disturb the world. "

I like what he said to Li Yinhe: "You have experienced all the light and darkness experienced by all the great and humble authors. What are you still entangled in? " What do you expect more? There is nothing but self-crossing and crossing people. "

Go ahead, Moses. He has yet to read and digest.

three

Last Sunday, I spent one morning and half an afternoon watching Ye Fu's Love at 1980.

It is a snowy day outside. Such a day is most suitable for studying on the sofa. Also suitable for nostalgia. Ye Fu's novels are perfect.

In fact, the story itself is not too unique. But Ye Fu's writing is really beautiful. More importantly, he reminds me of many past events that I almost completely forgot, about that era, about the love of that era. In some ways, it is even more story-telling than his story.

Or, I should write a short article entitled "1Love in the 1980s". If nothing else, just to commemorate, as Ye Fu wrote in the postscript of the novel-

"When we talk about love, we are ultimately offering a gift to those innocent young people who have no regrets."

four

Of course, reading is not the only thing worth recording this week.

Or last Sunday. Someone and I have experienced the world after snow around our home.

I went to see the carp in the shallow river in the community. I want to see what they look like on such a cold day. Everything seems to be all right. Whether it's red, white or red, they all stay together. But there is no doubt that this is a crucial silence, I can see it.

Perhaps, they are far more accustomed to the impermanence of nature than we are. Or, they also know that such impermanence is the real constant. So, face it quietly and calmly.

I went to the Fengjiahe near the community and walked a small bridge. The snow on the bridge deck is still thick. Took a picture of standing on the bridge. I remembered an article written by a friend my age nearly thirty years ago. She said that after the heavy snow, she wanted to take a picture of standing in the snow in a red ski shirt. Such a youthful time, such a romantic wish. Of course I understand. Now, as a middle-aged woman, she will probably have a similar understanding with me-

No matter before, during or after the snow, no matter whether it is the white earth that has not passed or the muddy remnant snow, it actually has its own beauty. Everything depends on the mentality.

In addition, many branches broken by snow were found. A few strains were not crushed but obviously overwhelmed. We just have to reach them and shake the snow off them.

There is a osmanthus tree in the community. The whole tree has fallen down, and several workers are doing pruning operations on it. I asked, "Is this replanting?" I seem to answer irrelevant questions: "I said I would repair it long ago, but I insisted on not letting it." It's a pity that I cut a flower and it seldom blooms. This is very good. " I see.

There are also some tree species that are completely unaffected by snow. All the leaves have fallen. On the bare tree, white and strong snowflakes are in full bloom. There is a beauty beyond the world.

five

One night, I had a drink with some friends. Slightly tipsy. Said a lot of things. About the past, present and future.

I think of "suddenly enlightened" and "as if there were light" in Tao Yuanming's Peach Blossom Garden.

six

Tell me more about two cats.

Since the cold weather, Liu Liu has called his mother to open the door after breakfast every day, and then "hibernated" under the drilling rig. At night, I asked my mother to open the door and let it out. I was absorbed in waiting for dinner all night. Only at nine o'clock in the evening. It has been staring at us since seven o'clock. I look for eye contact from time to time, and then I run over and try to meow. As if to say, "Hey, who, where's my cat food?" The whole cat's life is condensed into two words: eat and sleep.

Big mouth has other hobbies. For example, mind your own business. Rare weekend, I want to sleep for a while, but absolutely not allowed. I kept meowing loudly at the door. My mother drove it away, my mother left, and it came again. So repeatedly. Until I opened the door and scolded it angrily: "Hey, Chen Dazui, what's it to you that I sleep late?" Then it just walked away at will.

seven

This morning, I read the poem Confessions by Shen Wei, her college classmate, forwarded by Teacher Ding. The poem reads: "I never wanted to spend my life like others, learning their language and laughter, and watching how my soul was taken away." Unless I am a child, I would like to see the spring garden with him ... "。

There is also a chicken soup for the soul sent by my friend Afan: "Keep love and enthusiasm for life and make every day steaming." Well, it's always good to drink more chicken soup. So, drink it all at once.

Again remind of Gao Qiao Mulang's Well. The little prince said, "The desert is beautiful because there is a well hidden in its corner."

Well, work hard and keep yourself in shape.