我常常坐在画室,盯着墙上儿子写的字,或者盯着一块石头发呆。不知道为什么不喜欢自己的字,却喜欢看儿子写的字。儿子的字写得并不好看,也不漂亮,甚至还有些丑。结构上懒里懒散,姿态上东倒西歪。墨色上在该清楚的地方突然渗成一坨了,但看得久了,就觉得他比我写得真,写的干净,写的有意思。他是真诚的去写,所以写的慢,是真的想写好而又写不准。初念真善。另一方面又写的很天真、贪玩、有孩子气。那种想写好的心思坚持不了多久,就开始调皮,尤其是那种无所谓从笔底下带 I often sit in the studio, staring at the words written on the wall son, or staring at a stone in a daze. Do not know why do not like their own words, but like to read the words written by his son. Son’s words are not good-looking, not beautiful, and even some ugly. Structure lazy lazy, stance on the east and west. Ink on the clear place suddenly infiltrated, but for a long time, I think he wrote more than I really, write clean, write interesting. He is sincere to write, so slow to write, really want to write well and do not write. First read really good. On the other hand it is very naive, playful and childish. That kind of thinking would like to write well before long, began to naughty, especially the kind of does not matter from the bottom of the pen