On the day of White Horse, I was really fascinated by the Mongolian grassland poplar forest. The glow of twilight illuminated the clusters of amber-translucent leaves in infinite layers, yet so simple, and the mist diffused dimly. Just then, the figure of a white horse approached from far away. The rider was dressed in Burgundy, thin and young, and had the air of a warrior. But under the poplar forest, only became a small silhouette, cutting through the quiet...... The white horse stopped beside me, for there was a pond behind me to drink from. The young rider greeted me with a smile. When I asked him where he was going, he smiled shyly and said, "Nothing." "Why are you riding so fast for nothing?" I asked. He hesitated and said, "Some friends are chatting in the tent and want to drink. I'm going to town to buy a bag of wine." It's really nothing. But he said he would ride eighty kilometers this time. He rode away on his white horse, his figure melting into the night, like smoke. I squinted into the distance and thought: He has no idea what a beautiful journey he has made; Little did he know that, thanks to him and his horse, the journey had become more beautiful. I want to use this image to compare life. The process of life is in most cases far more important than the purpose of life. But the world is always indifferent to the amber poplar forest where a white horse passes under the mist, and only thinking of the bag of wine. Well, that's a summary -- first, process over purpose, white horse over wine bag; Second, why is the process high? Because it is beautiful; Third, where is the beauty? Beauty in the colorful movement, beauty in a youth life for the vast natural rapid crossing. Therefore, beauty is youth, life, nature, color, time. You see, in a hurry, an entire aesthetic has emerged.
On the day of White Horse, I was really fascinated by the Mongolian grassland poplar forest. The glow of twilight illuminated the clusters of amber-translucent leaves in infinite layers, yet so simple, and the mist diffused dimly. Just then, the figure of a white horse approached from far away. The rider was dressed in Burgundy, thin and young, and had the air of a warrior. But under the poplar forest, only became a small silhouette, cutting through the quiet...... The white horse stopped beside me, for there was a pond behind me to drink from. The young rider greeted me with a smile. When I asked him where he was going, he smiled shyly and said, "Nothing." "Why are you riding so fast for nothing?" I asked. He hesitated and said, "Some friends are chatting in the tent and want to drink. I'm going to town to buy a bag of wine." It's really nothing. But he said he would ride eighty kilometers this time. He rode away on his white horse, his figure melting into the night, like smoke. I squinted into the distance and thought: He has no idea what a beautiful journey he has made; Little did he know that, thanks to him and his horse, the journey had become more beautiful. I want to use this image to compare life. The process of life is in most cases far more important than the purpose of life. But the world is always indifferent to the amber poplar forest where a white horse passes under the mist, and only thinking of the bag of wine. Well, that's a summary -- first, process over purpose, white horse over wine bag; Second, why is the process high? Because it is beautiful; Third, where is the beauty? Beauty in the colorful movement, beauty in a youth life for the vast natural rapid crossing. Therefore, beauty is youth, life, nature, color, time. You see, in a hurry, an entire aesthetic has emerged.
She is a chatterbox. But her voice was not shrapnel, not a chip of glass. It's a ripple, blowing from end to end; It's the wind, passing through me again and again. And then I got echoes of her in my body. I gather them carefully, I bury the seeds of these echoes into the fertile ashes.