到处白色幛幔悬垂,轻纱如雾,甫入即有冰冷之感(外面亦是入冬以来北京最冷的温度)自头至踵淹没你——某种难以言说的气息隐隐约约在身边起伏,迷茫的意图若隐若现。灵堂耶?迷雾耶?左探右探不得其门而入,迎面的走廊,手稿复印件散落一地,亦铺了满墙——通知我来的人告诉我是参观一个当代青年油画家的个展,难道是他们搞错了,这里是行为艺术?类似机器轰鸣的噪音鼓动着耳膜,也引导我走过扑满手稿的走廊。前面似乎没有路了,惶惑间左顾右盼,见一白黑花纹的布帘, Everywhere draping mantle, gauze fog, as soon as it enters the sense of cold (outside is the coldest temperature in Beijing since winter) from head to heel drown you - some unspeakable breath faintly around Ups and downs, confused intent looming. Visiting the corridor, a copy of the manuscript scattered over the place, also covered with walls - the person who told me to tell me to visit a solo exhibition of contemporary young oil painters , Is it that they made a mistake, here is the performance art? A roaring noise like the drum eardrums, but also led me through the manuscript man’s corridor. There seems to be no way in front, bewildered around looked around, see a black and white pattern of curtains,