也许,我不能从迷人的春天里为你采撷一束花儿,也不能从天边的云彩里送你一片金影。开起门来四望吧。在你欢乐的心田,愿你感到一个春晨的吟唱,它快乐的声音好像穿过了一百年的光阴。这样的诗句美吧。真希望我的画儿和它一样,那样轻盈地把我们带到春天清晨的田野里。世界宛如一个诗人般丰盛而敏感,即便是忧伤的,每一样也都充满了爱和美。美的世界,无关新旧,无关雅俗;美的事物不易颓废腐烂;美是真情实意,是内心细小的愉悦;美也会让人心潮澎湃而欲望涌动。想到这里我就会拿起画笔,毫无炫耀,身心赤诚, Maybe I can not pick up a bunch of flowers for you from the charming spring, nor can I send you a gold shadow from the clouds at the horizon. Open the door to look around. In your happy heart, may you feel a spring morning singing, its happy voice seems to pass through a hundred years. This verse beauty. I really hope my paintings, like it, will bring us light and light into the fields of early spring. The world is like a poet rich and sensitive, even sad, every kind is full of love and beauty. Beauty of the world, nothing to do with old and new, unrelated to elegant and vulgar; beauty of the United States is not easy decadent decay; beauty is the true meaning of the heart is small pleasure; beauty will make surging and surging desire. Think of here I will pick up the brush, no show off, body and mind sincere,