"Bayi North Drifting Chronicle" series of topics · family members of the family, endless nostalgia

Basuqiu

Bayi Qiu, his real name Hong Dongbing, was born in Taizhou, Jiangsu in 1947. Famous painters, calligraphers, and writers, are now a special professor of Rongbaozhai Painting Academy, the honorary curator of Xiamen Baqiu Art Museum, the honorary curator of the Taizhou Baqiu Art Museum, and a special calligrapher of the Jiangsu Institute of Calligraphy Research in Jiangsu Province. The paintings have been exhibited many times at home and abroad, and have been collected by many institutions and collectors. Picture today. Chinese painting famous file Bayi Qiu. Volume "" Creation of Emotional Love -Pakistani Chinese Painting Collection ", personal prose collection" Drum Halberd Chronicle ", and the novel collection" Water Drumpy is Mirror ".

Bayu's work "Famous Lane" one

Relatives of their homeland, endless nostalgia

I used to get rid of the horizontal horns: Where did I come from? Where is my homeland?

When I was a child, I remember living in a broken grass house in the river. Later, the flood was flooded, and the broken grass room repeatedly flooded, collapsed, and then gone. Today, I want to find the straw house (like speakers around the wind around) at all. Right now, the high -rise buildings nearby are like forests, the traffic is like water, and it is beautiful. When I returned to my hometown, I stood occasionally on the far bridge to see the lost home. I missed the past without any reason.

And my father and his father's father were born?

I remember when I was a child, I often went to a village in the northern suburbs. It is said that there are a lot of my surnames in the village. Later, I heard that the wooden bridge from the village was gone, and the village river channel was changed. Many villas were built ... When I grew up, I had never been to this village.

Bayi Qiu's "Old Lane of the Family" II

Two years ago, I sketched near the suburban home. In the familiar environment around me, I found a little bit of time. It was a feeling of worry. After that, it seemed like some kind of wish, and I was fate with painting. I came to the ancient village Chaji at the foot of Huangshan. This originally set up my long -forgetd nostalgia.

In the ancient village of Chaji, I can see the old horse head wall everywhere, and then step on the squeak of the stone slate road, and the endless deep alley along the slate road, the shallow water on the street is clear and full of pebbles. The river beach, and the seat bridge on the river beach ... This very strange and long -lasting scene shocked my heart, throbbing!

In those days, I was like old crustacean, with a painting rack, curled up all day, waiting on the river beach of the ancient village, or silently thinking, or watching the pen. The strange alley of the slate is lingering, and the foundation is to find what I want.

I painted and listened to many stories in this ancient village. This is a historic ancient village. The old houses in the old street are one by one, the old walls are one after another, and the old bridges are one after another. , Or fun, or tragic. From these old stories, I find a source of exploring the source, draw spiritual nutrition, enhance my awe of nature, and wash the inner dust.

I painted and relive the poems in the old books in my heart. I read that "the young and small departure boss returns, and the village sounds have no change in hair"; I read "Lu from Tonight White, the moon is the hometown Ming"; ; I read, "Before the window of Japan, the Hanmei is not flowing?" ... The ancients of the ancients, my thoughts, and the scenes in front of me were reflected, and all kinds of worries were intertwined. Or calm, or leisurely ...

Bayu's work "Famous Lane" II

I kept painting around the village. Draw the green grass, white walls, black tiles, green bridges. The old wall, the old door, the broken bridge, the idle and weeds, the vicissitudes of the vicissitudes, and the dignity in silence. The true pastoral style, the rustic atmosphere, as if I have read a thousand poetry, always nourish my pen, nourish my heart, emulsify and increase my inner spirit, and even stir up my heart. I have a sweet, novel, and rich flower branch on my heart, open out a pure and wonderful flavor, and make out the flavorful artistic fruits ...

So I thought more than once, maybe it was the place where I and my ancestors used to be? Maybe, maybe the spiritual home of my half -way art artists? Maybe, maybe my soul -oriented soul inhabits the ground?

Chaji Ancient Village, so constantly evoking my more memories and nostalgia for the homeland of my home, and my thoughts and appreciation of the beauty of life and art ...

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