paintings
I. Don't. Want. To.
"Be a good kid, eat, play, and sleep by the rules, okay?"
"Follow this map then you can find me, OK?"
Parents in the world, Father in Heaven
All waiting for the children to receive perfect guidance
However,
Children always stick out their naughty tongue:
"I. Don't. Want. To."
Catalonia sunset
Glamourous & colorful But not vulgar
Hustle & bustle But not nervous
The night is never dark, the music never stops
Catalonia at dusk
Enchanted and extravagant
Never gets old
Ps. In memory of the purpleish dusks in Barcelona
Re-Creation
Looking back again, it's like a lifetime
Looking again, I am no longer me
What about the clothes that could not be taken off?
What about the shadow that couldn't be thrown away and always with me?
It's YOU, like the rain,
Washed away my staleness
It's YOU, like the wind,
Waken up my new wings
Fireworks
Haven't forgotten the heartaching stab
The other scratch is still aching, too
Whenever alone, I always have the urge to lick the wound
Over the years, it is clear that they are impossible to heal
Unexpectedly, when the morning light comes in
it burns the scars from the past years
Fireworks set off! Spelandid!
Movement
A dolphin rolled and danced in the waves, and sang on the shore at sunset
Quietly, You didn't say a word
Two lovers snuggled and danced in the corner, the man suddenly got up and left, the woman looked at him
You were still quiet
A volcano erupted and lava flowed, panicking the world
You didn't say a word
Pencil Stopped.
Notebook closed.
You left your turbulent waves in the world you dominated
Ps. A record of my quiet son and his abundant imagination
Longing For Your Love (Father & Me)
Always thinking: what kind of person do you expect me to be?
How would you guide me?
How could I meet you face to face?
Then, that day
When I cried like a 5-year-old child
You held me in your arms
Turned out that I could just be the childish ME
Turned out that you have been holding me the whole time.
Sunny
Windy
Hair messed up
Petals blown off
yet the smile flew
brightened by the sun
The Attic In The Lane 161
22 o'clock. A group of young people frolicking by
23 o'clock. Two middle-aged men drinking beer downstairs
1am. A drunk man vomiting by the roadside
2:32 am. The girl weeping by the window of the fifth floor attic
Night of Lane 161 in the East District, there were many crowds after drinking.
The never-ending noise drowned every lonely sigh
Modern Cinderella’s carriage didn't turn into a pumpkin after 12 o’clock, but the princes of Cinderella turned into toads at dawn.
Ps. My first creation. Record memories in my early 20s
I Heard About YOU Before
What's blowing? Wind?
What's stiring? Water?
Who Gives me gravity but allows me to walk on the water
