这个暮春的上午,年过花甲的老画家蓝之南心绪不宁。从昨夜到眼下,如丝如缕的细雨下得极有韧性,真是“无边丝雨细如愁”啊。天蒙蒙亮他就起床了,按以往习惯,先到画室挥毫临几张吴昌硕的篆书《心经》,然后出门,走出小巷的尾口,到雨湖公园去散散步。如果是下雨天,则在自家庭院的走廊上打打太极拳。但今天他什么都不想干, In the late spring morning, the old painter of Blue Flower spent half a year in revulsion. From last night to the present, such as silky light under the extremely tough, really “no trace of silk as sad as ” ah. Dawn on the day he got up, according to past habits, first to the studio to brush a few Wu Changshuo seal “Heart Sutra”, and then go out out of the alley tail, to rain Lake Park to go for a walk. If it is raining, hit Tai Chi in the hallway of your own courtyard. But today he does not want to do anything,