长久以来,我一直在思考:是什么样的魔力诱使我一直画下去呢?显然,任何现实的理由都不足以作为支撑。记得小时候,从山上捡块石粉笔在晒谷坪或那斑驳的老墙上快乐涂鸦,那是一颗幼小的心灵在用一种特殊的方式表达对这个世界的美好想象,可以说那是一种最真诚、最快乐的作品了。随着年龄的增长,多年来画画的情结一直不变,唯一改变的是手中这支画笔仿佛变得越来越沉重了。生命历程中的复杂和纷扰所带来的内心的沉重感,仅凭 For a long time, I have been thinking: What kind of magic lure me to draw it? Obviously, any realistic reason is not enough as a support. I remember when I was a kid, picking up a piece of chalk from the hill, gratifying graffiti on the Sun Yat-Ping or the mottled old wall, a young mind expressing in a special way a wonderful picture of the world, The most sincere and happiest work. As we grow older, the complex of painting has remained unchanged for many years. The only change is that the brush in this hand seems to become heavier and heavier. Complexity and confusion in the life process brought the heavy heart, alone