Zhou Weisheng has a habit of sealing his emotions behind the painting paper, using layers of colors to cover up his heart. The figure that broke into her vision became the only unfixable muse in her writing. Jian Zexi looked at himself depicted in the painting: "Zhou Weisheng, there is no artist who does not love his muse. You have painted me thousands of times, and you love me." You are my suppressed yearning, and the only inspiration and destination in my life.
Concept: The brush can depict the outline of light and shadow, but it cannot hide the trembling of the heart. Love is an instinct, an irrepressible brushstroke, and a desperate attempt to paint you and love you after all my rationality collapsed.