Selected essays of famous artists

Every well-chosen essay has its own different meanings. How do you feel about reading these short and pithy masterpieces? The following are the famous essays I collected for your study.

Famous prose: phoenix tree Feng Zikai

There are several buttonwood trees in front of the window of the apartment building. These are all things from the next yard, but they are all mine in form. Because they are at a proper distance from me, it seems that they are specially planted for me to see. Their owners may know their state better than I do; But I'm afraid I haven't got a good look at all of them. Because it must be seen from a considerable distance. Tang Shiyun:? The mountain is far from the starting point. ? I thought trees were the same. From early summer to now, these buttonwood trees have presented various appearances in front of me.

In late spring and early summer, I saw the sight of Xintong bovine colostrum. Those little yellow leaves clustered on the bare branches, like a tree lamp, like a clip-and-paste pattern of primary school students, arranged evenly and childlike. There are also various techniques for plants to grow leaves: some metabolism, hiding from people's eyes and secretly turning green and yellow. Some of them are so tiny that people don't realize that they have changed from bare branches to green leaves? Only the leaves of the buttonwood tree are the most clumsy, but the attitude is the most frank. Their branches are sparse and thick, and their leaves are flat and big. All the leaves are alive, and the whole tree is obviously deformed.

In summer, I saw the green leaves turn into shade again. The big leaves of those round fans are densely packed, leaving no gap in sight, like a big green barrier; Like a green hill in a pattern painting. Among my common garden plants, I'm afraid there is nothing bigger than phoenix tree except banana. Although banana leaves are large in shape and few in number, it takes several days for lilacs to unfold a leaf, and the leaves of the whole tree are few and far between. Although the leaves of buttonwood are not as big as it, they are numerous. Something like a pig's ear hung from the low branch to the top of the tree. There are several buttonwood trees in front of the window. I think there is too much green. The ancients said? Do bananas have green screens? The view is too low, just what you see under the front window. If you go upstairs and look out, bananas will fall under your nose. Should you see them? Does the phoenix tree have a green screen? Yes

A month later, I saw the fallen leaves of the plane again. What a sad expression! At first, green darkens and becomes dark green; Later it changed from dark green to brown; As long as the north wind blows, they will make a fuss. At first, rhubarb leaves will suddenly fall off from one or two branches; Later, a large number of people flew down, as if someone had dropped something from a tall building. The branches gradually became empty, revealing the house behind the tree, and finally only a few branches were left, returning to the face of early spring. These days, they stand in front of my window, empty-handed, just like bachelors who have married and had children and lost their families. What a pity! I remember an ancient poem:? Trees on high mountains, leaves blown off by the wind. Thousands of miles apart, why go back to the old place now? If we want to collect all their fallen leaves, let them turn green together, restore the old branches and restore the summer scene, even if we resist the influence of all the dominators in the world and do our best to achieve the efficiency of all the machinery in the world, it is impossible! There are many things in the world that will turn yellow and green, but nothing can symbolize sadness more than fallen leaves, especially buttonwood leaves.

But their owners, I'm afraid, don't feel this sadness. Because although they planted it and bought it, they didn't see the above scene. They just sit under the window and look at their roots, stand in front of the steps and look up at their branches and leaves, just sweeping the leaves for them. How can they see their faces? Why do you feel their symbols? Nature can't possess. It can be seen that art cannot be possessed.

Bi Shumin, what are you afraid of?

Love is delicate, stupid and confused, and there are many things to be afraid of.

Love to lie. Pretending to love when we don't love is a painful and unlucky thing. If others see through us, we will become hypocritical villains. If you cheated others of their money, you can pay for it. If you cheat others' love, you will become an unforgivable sinner. It's even worse if others don't see through it. Unless you have lost your conscience, you must make the illusion of love, and the strangulation in your heart will never be peaceful.

Love fears silence. Too many people think that love is too deep to be speechless. In fact, love is a kind of emotion that is difficult to describe, and needs careful expression and transmission. Love needs action, but love is not only action, or the expression of language and warmth, but also an indispensable part of action. I once did a test with a friend, filling a person's heart with a unique feeling, and then making it with expressions and gestures, so that other people who don't know the details can guess his inner activities. The person who solved the puzzle readily agreed that it was foolproof. As a result, few people can decode it correctly. When you feel full of love, others misinterpret the conclusions in various ways. For example, I think it's reserved, daze and melancholy.

A mother bowed her head confidently and made an expression. Wait a minute. I, another lady, looked at her carefully, looked at each other, and said with one voice: You are going to commit suicide! She glared at us angrily and said, How dare you! Why are you so stupid? ! At the moment, my heart is full of warmth! We were ashamed of our stupidity, but before we could apologize, mother suddenly realized that it was so! No wonder every time I look at my son like this, he will say uneasily, Mom, what did I do wrong? What are you worried about?

Love needs to be expressed too much, just like an electrical appliance is dead too quickly and needs to be recharged every day. Describe love repeatedly and fresh. This is the art of courage and wisdom.

Love is afraid of hesitation. Love is shy and smart. If you are not careful, it ate the bait and left. The beginning of love is often a weak and boneless collision and fascinating gravity. In the initial stage of love, it is an ability and a kind of courage to keenly identify your true love. If you love a career, you will devote yourself to it. If you love someone, you will pursue it without hesitation. If you love a nation, you have to sacrifice your bones and ashes. If you love a belief, you will never regret it until you die.

Love is afraid of ambiguity. Love this or that and one? All or nothing? Iron rules. Love is unstoppable, leaving no dead ends. If you don't love it, draw a sword and cut off the water, and wash your hands of it. Procrastination is irresponsible to others and to yourself.

Love is afraid of building towers on the beach. That kind of love, no matter how exquisite, is also ebb and flow, leaving only pearl mussels and rooted aquatic plants.

Love is afraid of passive water. How many days can a river in the desert last, even if it is not a mirage? When the sandstorm strikes, the first thing that dries up is the salty lake where tears accumulate.

Love is afraid of fraud. True love may not be so smooth, colorful, beautifully packaged and boasted by advertisements, but it has inherent quality assurance. True love is not without short circuit and injury, but with a guarantee, a promise of two hearts, written between heaven and earth.

Love is one, afraid of division. Like tempered glass, it is said that tanks will not break when rolled, but its weakness is inflexibility and fragility. Once it is broken, it breaks into countless dregs as big as broad beans, and it flows all over the floor, shining with sad cold light, which can never be recovered.

Love's feet are not healthy, and the fear is far away. Distance will fade the color of each other's lovesickness. If possible, a little closer, a little closer, until you are in perfect harmony and intimate. Never artificially test its strength by separation, as you may regret it. Strive to create an era of unity between man and nature side by side.

Love is like a cactus flower, afraid of fleeting. Love may not be morning and night, love may not be very much in love, but love must be ground into a needle with an iron pestle to last forever.

Love is afraid of wearing a tie. You can't walk the tightrope of love like a high-altitude prince, and don't do dangerous actions. Even if you stumbled and didn't fall for a while, you were saved by accident. Any whirlwind may break you down. The wisest and safest thing to do is to hurry back to the flat ground from high altitude and leave deep footprints on the soil.

Being in love is afraid of deliberately looking for a job. Love can be long hair, love can be embroidered with cloth skirts, love can be simple, and love can sleep in the wind. As long as the truth is true, love will have one side.

When I am in love, my eyes are myopic and astigmatism, and I only like to see picturesque scenery. I'm deaf. I only like listening to Ying Ge and Yanwu. Love is one-sided, love is credulous. Love makes people's IQ drop, and love makes people wishful thinking. What love fears most is corruption. Love needs to inject passion every day, but it is like a deep pool, calm and calm. After talking so much about love, is love useless?

Love is the strongest memory metal in the world, which does not melt and freeze at high temperature. Build a space shuttle of love, and you can fly it for nine days.

Love is a wider universe than the sky and the sea. In that unique vault, there are hundreds of millions of stars of love shining. When the asteroid hit, it was the rain of love that made the sky clear.

Love is a magical chemical reagent, which can make suffering sweet, make a minute eternal, make an ordinary face like a fairy, and make whispers drown out thunder and lightning.

Love is the grassland that breeds all things. Here, you can grow your ability, courage, wisdom, talent, friendship, care for all human virtues and beautiful talents belonging to nature, and love will be given to you.

Between life and death, it is a lonely life journey. Keeping a true love is a lamp that shines the warmth of life.

Famous Prose: Xi Murong for Life.

( 1)

I stood under the moon and drew a pencil sketch.

The moonlight was bright, and I stood in the middle of the field, drawing alternately with black and brown pencils.

The first thing to draw is a row of jagged shadows in the distance, and their dense branches and leaves are painted extremely heavy and deep black.

Under the tree is a slowly stretching building, with sweet potatoes planted in the ground, which is shallow and delicate in the moonlight. There is not a cloud in the whole sky, only moonlight and stars. What I can recognize is the hunter constellation, right in front of me, shining under the moon. The color of the sky is transparent and clean, just like the smell of the whole field at night.

The moon is so bright, my sketch book reflects a soft white light, and all the fine and precise lines can be seen more clearly. I stood in the field and drew slowly, feeling very calm and quiet.

Home is ten or twenty steps away. The children have finished their homework and gone to bed. My husband is doing his homework under his lamp. What about me? I decided to do my homework under the moon tonight.

The dog next door came to have a look and was relieved to know it was me. After patrolling around several times, he simply fell asleep at my feet. On the contrary, my puppy was very upset. I didn't understand why I didn't go home, so I ran back and forth for a while, making a small noise between the stems and leaves of sweet potatoes. The night in the country is surprisingly quiet, and the neighbors are used to going to bed early. Occasionally, pedestrians who go home at night just pass by the path by the field, sometimes coughing, and their voices become soft from the moonlight.

What a nice moonlight! The light of the full moon permeates the whole earth, and all life on the earth has a color that can never be imagined during the day. Such a beautiful world is in front of my eyes, neither illusory nor a dream, but incredible.

So, I think, after I put these sketches in order and draw this moonlight on the canvas, I'm afraid some people will think that what I describe is a kind of nihilistic beauty.

I couldn't help laughing when I was painting. The wind blows from the other side of the field and shuttles back and forth between bamboo forests. The moon is higher and rounder, and the whole night sky is crystal clear.

There should be such a clear moment in life. For me, I can think nothing and hope nothing, just pursue slowly and do my homework quietly under the moon.

(2)

I like telling a story to a class of 19-year-old and 20-year-old students who just started their oil painting class.

This is the story of my college classmate. My classmate has a good foundation in painting and is serious. After entering the university, he vowed to paint all the way along the history of western art and create his own style after understanding and trying the ideas and techniques of various painting schools. He thinks that only in this way can we draw really solid works.

In the first grade, his scenery was Cezanne's. In the second grade, Xi tirelessly announced to me:

? I painted fauvism! ?

Then in the third and fourth grades, he taught and then went abroad. After years of silence, he finally got his doctorate and became an expert in art history and art theory.

Every time I think about it, I don't know whether it is sad or happy. It turns out that to be a creative artist, you should not only know how to absorb a lot of knowledge, but also know how to exclude a lot of knowledge! Creation itself has a strong exclusivity. An excellent artist is a person who can achieve the ultimate performance in a certain aspect, and because he wants to go to the extreme, it is impossible to completely follow the footsteps of others, let alone complete the road that others have traveled in their own lives. In the field of art, if you want to find your own perfection, you need to understand your own limits first, and you need to understand that you are different from others first.

Because it is different, there are so many different faces in works of art. Like Broncusy can put his? Bird of space? Polished so smoothly, the bronze statue almost became a jumping light and speed. Mayo wants to put her cell phone in. River? Stop, it shows a heavy sense of quantity in the leading female body statue. The world of light and shadow in pissarro is always peaceful, but the same light and shadow is always full of trembling and anxiety in Munch's brushwork.

When every excellent artist reaches the acme, it is like opening a window of life for us. We hold our breath in front of one different scenery after another, and at the same time learn to choose what we want and what we have to give up.

(3)

Of course, some people are exceptions, just as there are often unexplained exceptions in life.

In the history of art, some outstanding artists come and go freely. In their lives, there are few? Limit? This thing.

Like Leonardo da Vinci, he knows everything from astronomy, mathematics to physics. What should we do?

Maybe we can only put him aside and not compare him? Otherwise, how can we calm the envy and jealousy burning like fire in our hearts?

(4)

I believe that artists are jealous people.

Famous prose: A mother bathed in glory was on the bus, and saw a mother constantly taking care of her mentally retarded son, fearing that his son would be frightened when he took the bus for the first time.

? The baby is good, don't be afraid, don't be afraid, it's safe by car. ? The baby in the mother's mouth seems to be a teenager.

The passengers looked at their mother bathed in love with great reverence.

I think it would be nice if everyone could look at their mother with such reverence. Unfortunately, most people often ignore that his mother is so full of luster.

When the mother and son got off the bus, the car was silent, and the driver showed rare patience. When they got off the bus completely, they started slowly and drove away.

Passengers also pay attention to the mother and son until they disappear on the street corner.

Why is there such solemn silence when we love someone completely unselfishly? The reason is that it is often difficult for us to reach the solemn state of completely dissolving people.

Complete integration is selfless, selfless and artificial, just like the tungsten filament of a light bulb suddenly lights up and radiates brilliance.

Take treating children as an example! Children with mental retardation are so innocent and pitiful in the eyes of their mothers. And our own treatment of normal and healthy children is so harsh and full of conditions that we can't wholeheartedly pity them.

I hope that the way we look at children can be as selfless and integrated as that mother, with a solemn beauty and full of love.

A short essay by a famous writer: the lily in my heart is in a distant valley, where there is a cliff thousands of feet high. I don't know when a Sayuri grew on the edge of the cliff. When the lily was just born, it looked like a weed. However, it knows in its heart that it is not a weed. In its heart, there is a pure idea:? I am a lily, not a weed. The only way to prove that I am a lily is to produce beautiful flowers. ? With this in mind, Lily tried to absorb water and sunshine, took root deeply and straightened her chest. Finally, on a spring morning, the first bud grew on the top of the lily.

Lily is very happy, but the weeds nearby are very disdainful. They laughed at Lily in private. This guy is obviously grass, but he says he is a flower. I don't think it has buds on it. It's a brain tumor. ? In public, they mocked Lily: Stop dreaming, even if you really blossom, your value is different from ours in this wilderness! ?

Lily said: I want to blossom because I know I have beautiful flowers; I want to blossom, in order to complete the solemn mission as a flower; I want to blossom, because I like to prove my existence with flowers. No matter whether anyone appreciates it or not, no matter what you think of me, I will blossom! ?

Under the contempt of weeds, wild lilies are trying to release their energy. Finally, one day, it blossomed. It has become the most beautiful flower on the cliff with its white spirit and graceful charm. At this time, the weeds dare not laugh at it anymore.

Lily is in full bloom, and there are crystal drops on the flowers every day. Weeds thought it was dew last night, and only lily knew it was tears of deep joy. Every spring, wild lilies strive to blossom and bear seeds. Its seeds fall on valleys and cliffs with the wind, and white wild lilies are everywhere.

Decades later, countless people came from cities and villages to admire lilies. Many children knelt down and smelled the fragrance of lilies; Many couples hug each other and make promises? A hundred years together? Vows; Countless people have seen the beauty they have never seen before, moved to tears and touched the pure and gentle corner of their hearts.

No matter how others appreciate it, the lilies all over the mountain remember the teaching of the first lily:

? We should bloom silently wholeheartedly and prove our existence with flowers. ?

A short essay by a famous writer: A man from past lives asked me a question about past lives, saying that he often dreamed about his past lives in his dreams. He asked me: Did previous lives really exist?

Did previous lives really exist? I can't answer this question.

I told him: what I can be sure of is that I was yesterday's past life, and tomorrow's me is today's afterlife. Our past life is too late to participate, so let it be! What kind of afterlife do we want? Let's seize today! ?

Past lives or afterlife seem distant and profound, but I always believe that as long as one has good understanding, one can find some news about the past and the future.

For example, if we are willing to admit our bad habits and bad ideas, we will find how far we have deviated from the past. If we are willing to measure and map the mind, we will also find that the power of the mind drives our future.

Therefore, as long as one works hard, he can foresee the future, but no matter how hard he works, he can't go back to the past.

So what really matters is now.

I said to my friends who often dream of past lives: It is better to live in front of the real world than to waste time on dreams of past lives. ? Really, the world rarely has a sincere understanding of this life, but tries to understand past lives. The world also refuses to rely on the real self in front of it, but spends a lot of time on the afterlife. It's a pity to think about it.

Nocturnal talk with my father: My father and I felt very close when we were in the second year of high school.

Once, my father and I went to live in our forest farm. My father and I slept together and chatted by candlelight. My father told me how he was full of ideals when he was young and went up the mountain alone to open up 470-Jia Mountain.

He said:? Just under the bed where we sleep, many snakes crawl in and hibernate in winter. When they get up in the middle of the night to pee, they have to stand on their feet in order not to step on snakes. ?

Father told me:? The most important thing for young people is hard work and courage. ?

That night, I talked with my father for a long time before falling asleep.

I was very moved when I woke up, because I never talked to my father alone for more than an hour, let alone slept together.

In our parents' generation, because they didn't receive much education, and China tradition and Japanese education made them more serious and not good at expressing their feelings, there was often a generation gap that prevented us from getting to know each other and getting close.

After thirty or forty years of hard work, this generation of parents can get closer to their children, but they have less time because of busier things.

It has been more than 20 years since high school, and I often miss talking with my father by candlelight. Unfortunately, my father has passed away, and I will never have that kind of happiness again.

We should always cherish the time with our parents and children, because the good times are fleeting!

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