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一直以来都觉得绘画对于我是一件具体而且踏实的工作。当画笔在崭新的画布上涂刷上一块色块,勾拉出一笔线条,浮躁的心情便会逐渐平静下来,思绪随着这最初的一点一滴的提示,那潜伏在心底所要表达意象便会慢慢地从内心深处那自己构筑起来的理想世界辅陈到画布上:轻灵、自由、流动着的空气。到处蔓延生长的奇异的花草植物,相互亲妮, 纠缠的人儿、鸟儿;有着洁白长大翅膀的天使关注,放弃着那单纯的本生的欲望,这里飘着天籁般的歌声,让你如同漫漫在水银般倾泄下的月光之中。这里有喜悦,也有痛苦,只是因着这绚烂、迷离的世界。
It has always been my opinion that painting is a concrete and practical work for me. When the brush on a brand new canvas brushing a piece of color, pull out a line, impetuous mood will gradually calm down, thoughts with this initial bit by bit tips, that lurking in the heart of the image you want to express Slowly from the depths of the self-built world of ideal Chen auxiliary to the canvas: Brisk, free, flowing air. There are strange plants and flowers growing everywhere. They are mutually dependent and entangled with children and birds. Angels with white and long wings are paying attention and giving up the desire of a simple human being. As the long flood of mercury in the moonlight. There is joy and pain there, just because of this gorgeous, blurred world.