Library

I remember a father who came to Beijing from other places and lived in the densely populated community of Tiantongyuan. He stood in front of the window of a high-rise building and watched his son go out to take the subway to work. I remember a woman who was cooking in the kitchen and worrying about tea, rice, oil and salt. Her husband came back from get off work and hugged her tightly. I still remember the hometown that many people described, which has become withered and no longer what it was like in childhood; I also remember the foreign land that many people describe, and the past events that many people recall. It takes more than a thousand words to describe a person's life. Others will write about the flowers he/she raises, the pets he/she raises, the music he/she loves, and the person he/she falls in love with. These things, like those small paintings by Chen Xi, give us warmth and comfort.