mOn traVaiL pRemIèR

Il y a un rendez-vous à onze heures et trente au parc entre Anaïs et Valentin. Il est onze heurse et quarante mais Anaïs ne trouve pas son ami, Valentin. Aprés dix minutes, on enfin arrive.

Valentin : Désolée, je suis trés occupée en raison de mon travail.
Anaïs : Tu es en retard, comme d’habitude. Alors j’ai faim. Où est-ce que vous proposez de prendre le d’ejeuner?
Valentin : Je sais un bon restautant mais ce n’est pas tout prés. Ou tu veux choose un restaurant prés si tu es beaucoup faim.
Anaïs : Nous prenons un taxi pour le bon restaurant loin.
Valentin : D’accord.

That's my first homework of French class in the university. Today I found it in my computer by accident and that could be a significant remembrance since I think I'd spent lots of time writing it again now. The time I learned French was really pleasant, and I deeply expect myself to study, enjoy, and appreciate it.

LyinG coLd

WalKiNg aS FaST as POssibLE

低迷的心情在飛快的步伐下宣洩
沒有被察覺
沒有受安慰
突然
遇見了推著老公公的老婆婆

非常的緩慢緩慢......緩慢的滾動著一絲絲的輪椅圓周長

時間好像在空間中有個破洞
就那一塊

我們像是他們看到的快轉錄影帶



當年輕的時候
我們走得極快 根本就是能快就快

當年老的時候
我們過得緩慢 甚至只是在一張床一把椅上停滯 等待



當我與那凹下去的時間漸行漸遠
我也放慢了
行 的速度

neVeR eNDinG stORy

Armies have conquered
And fallen in the end
Kingdoms have risen
Then buried by sand
The Earth is our mother
She gives and she takes
She puts us to sleep
In her light we'll awake
We'll all be forgotten
There's no endless fame
But everything we do
It's never in vain

We're part of a story, part of a tale
We're all on this journey
No one's to stay
Where ever it's going
What is the way?

Forests and deserts
Rivers, blue seas
Mountains and valleys
Nothing here stays
While we think we witness
We're part of the scene
This never-ending story
Where will it lead to?
The earth is our mother
She gives and she takes
But she's also a part
A part of the tale

We're part of a story, part of a tale
We're all on this journey
No one is to stay
Where is it going
What is the way?
We're part of a story, part of a tale
Sometimes beautiful and sometimes insane
No one remembers how it began.

LE mOi

For almost 3 hours, the piece finally has been done. Recently I had no desire for painting anything. Until this afternoon, I guess, the sickness of reading paper pushed me to do something else and I decided to painting. No matter how the work is, the blog can be updated, at last.

vExatiONs

Many things happened.
Many vexations emerged.
The questions I should ask myself are just those the scientists should question, the what, how, and, most important one, why.

thE dAy of mEETIng tHE STaR

遇見星星的日子
是多麼的美好
你們這些大地之石怎地無法想像

遇見星星的日子
是多麼的引人遐想
這正是暗夜中滿地螢火蟲企盼的對象

我遇見了星星好一陣子
現在滿胸的激情衝動
只受著一層薄薄的外殼阻擋
似要炸開
似要崩盤
似要潰堤
似要化成永無止境的想法

滿溢


遇見星星的日子
讓我痛苦不堪
以為它太過遙遠
沒有時空關愛自己
卻不時發現他偶爾偶爾的
貼近心情
然而據此以為心心相印
彼此在天在地依然互相牽引
但猛地發現
原來它和潺潺溪水、暗夜森林、堅厚磐石、遍地之靈
皆是一樣的距離

遇見星星

是若即若離、似瞬間而永恆的心情

wRitINg

Try to combine the blog in the MSN SPACE with the one here. In order to be more convenient, all the articles are labeled and going to be labeled. Tagging all my writings is helpful if I'd like to write something in Chinese, the language I'm more familiar with. I'm interested in drawing but more in writing since that is the easier way to vent my emotions with higher accuracy to me. Sometimes, I can write down what emerges from my mind even if that is a clear image, which right reveals my variable mood. As time goes by, I find that pictures at heart are really expressive, and also explain the words I wrote. Every drop of the life inspires the ripple of my thought. That's what I'd write.

tHe dEsiRe

After one-hour-long quantum mechanics lecture, I'm always filled with great passion of physics, sometimes of math. When I ascend the 4-floor-high stairs, it still remains half. Take seat, and type the password of my computer which the screen saver left behind. It's totally gone. How terrible it is!
I'm holding back my desire of painting and pressing myself to study.

somEThIng abouT thE coNfiDENce

I somewhat hate to rely upon others, even though I clearly realize that the dependence is necessary when I was born and the day I die. There is, of course, no exception during my living times. However, I would be more tired rather than live on another's favor. This character is revealed from my childhood. I am easily getting depressed when I suffer the humiliations resulted from my weakness and the need for dependency. Now, I do totally experience it. I couldn't help to wonder, is it all because of my self-respect?

SigH~

That's a pretty huge work to me. Originally, the girl is very sexy, charming, and young. However, the piece presents another woman without a complete body. I grew the contour many times, but it's not too hard to work out. The most difficult part is the coloration, especially the face part. I think I spent almost one day. The facial expression seems kind of different from the picture I imitated, but I have no idea to make it better. Thus, here the piece I've done.

tHe PreliMinARy

Just as the first cry of newborn baby, it's my preliminary of painting but with the mouse.

ShOulD i?

Let me sit and think clearly.
The first problem was the dependence resulting from the custom. Here came the diversion of the center of my life next. It brought other's attention and also the mixture of my own. Now I am in trouble of the fuzzy soul.
How was my life?
In the beginning, I drowned in a dark blue whirl. I started to painting and chatting repeatedly. There were no mood for working hard and sleeping regularly. The behavior of my life maintained almost two weeks. There were somethings changed recently. My attitude caused some attentions and reflections, hence I have obtained some concerns indeed. Though it seems better, somethings are different within. However, I think there's no more time for me to fool about. That's why the post comes here.
There are lots of affairs I'd get my acts together, such as the business, the studies, and so forth. This time, I ought to take my steps with my insecure humor. It sounds ridiculous but I will figure it out.

TrimMInG

I think I should take a rest in case of the tiredness of painting. Actually it's time to practice my English writing and trim my life.

SumMEr SnOW

If you hear my voice, I am where you are.
If you see my face, I do smile to your heart.

However, I can't leave.
I can't breathe.
Oh~my dear, I am here to shield you even
there are thousand miles from you.

mYSeLf

Alone.
Be alone.
Wait to become alone.

Long, for long...... for ever never so
long.

LacRyMOsA

Actually, I think it's not bad. However, I am tired now. Don't let words bother the pieces.

thE BRaNd

Sometimes the pieces can tell everything.
Every deep-rooted thought tracks everywhere.

tiReDNeSs

Suddenly a huge wave of my tiredness surged over me. It brought a series of yawns and the headache. However, I cannot idle away my treasurable time, like what I've done during the days just past by. I should study hard and left no regret, or I must come across a big trouble in my final.

tO bE HolD baCk

I've just got the teacher's email. It's really rare that there were more than 3 lines in his reply. In fact, I am flattered by his commendation for my initiaive in my study and good english writing. Frankly speaking, I'm more pleased with the latter. If I do make progress, it should be attributed to writing my blog in English. Although I am not conscious of the writing ability, I do enjoy myself. Either writing or painting is fascinating, even though it takes lots of my time indeed. Therefore, I, who suffer the exam, am hold back my longing for posting and drawing.

mY fiRsT STep

Since I entered the university, I started to write, and kept writing up to now. The self-description tells truth literally. Words bring me through the rises and falls of my life, and leave me the history. I opened my painting door when I went to the institute. Art belongs to who loves art, and similarly, I belongs to who really appreciate me. There's already one, just me.
Be me, and be stripped.

rEpOSt

First, I wanna thank my dear friend's support and suggestion which colorize the painting life. Second, I couldn't wait to repost the work which had been altered, also better, by ingenious hands of zaffer, the friend I've just mentioned.

PeRpLexiTY

Although the midterm is getting closer, I am still perplexed. The question is either "what I want" or "what's the problem". I am afraid. All the things that can change and be different from my knowing make me cowardly. Do I over react? I am so perplexity!

lAcriMOsA

The picture I imitated is the cover of an album of the Gothic metal band, Lacrimosa. As to my feelings to the "Gothic" style, I will have another post to discuss it.

Now, let me soak myself in the work just done.

oPen ThE doOr

The style I like is always hard to represent. I think that I am so bad to behave well in detail that the gauze skirt like a wrinkled piece and the veins of the door indistinctly. However, I'm trying to practice to convey the impression, or feelings, that I wanna indicate. It's much more difficult than presenting with words, the way I am used to.

Sometimes painting makes me sink into the think cap. I can be bewildered nearly everything, such as a job in future, the basis of my life. It's kind of stupid for creating trobles for myself, but I just can't help myself.

Last night a point flashed through my mind; did I spend a lot admiring others but few appreciating myself? How silly I am! I ought to be flattered by being me. It's the earnestness rather than a fraud to cheat myself into bliss. Nevertheless, practice is necessary or the creed is just a phrase merely.

girL iN ReD

To avoid guys thinking I'm so lazy to update my own blog, I uploaded an early work. Even though I did think it's kind of casual and, surely, not a big deal, I found its beauty of simpleness recently. At least I somewhat like it, now.

MouRnER

Took a wander around the campus
seeing guys without names trot along
Find unclearly
I am the best candidate with most aimless eyes
uninterruptedly searching
Searched peace inside

When warn scenes flowed away
when heavy and swift treads were turned into silent
i knew it did , everything had been gone
even my melancholy

The longer route I took
the more sentences sprang up
exactly speaking
they covered all my thought
edging out the gloominess occupied originally


I clearly know
mourning for their dispersing hasn't been worth
However I'm convinced that
we will encounrter with each other
once again

PiAnfuL rEposE

That seems like a site of battle, a battle against myself.
I am totally lost. There's a huge panic within. I did burst into bitter tears. Why? That's really a torture of night. Again, I hate to need to sleep. Each time I went to bed, what flashed in my mind is the fear of sleep. Maybe several hours pass by, I can't fall to sleep throughout, or sleep just very superficially. Who never experienced will not ever realize. Of course, they needn't comprehend that after all. Guys who suffer insomnia ought to expect none but self.
Now, I am undergoing the insomnious period.
Frankylt it is quite tough much beyond your expectation.

woW~~~i diD IT

Finally, I've done.
After finishing the first problem of my quantum mechanics homework, I almost couldn't wait to paint. Originally I tried to take a portrait, again, however I hardly got any confidence or encouragement form that. Therefore I chose a photograph of a beach to imitating instead.
It's fortunate that I haven't give it up halfway. Maybe we should all carry out an undertaking from start to finish. Processes might seem no expectances, however, the outcomes could turn out to be satifying unanticipatedly, as long as we have kept exserting. At least, my work this time follows what I have just said above. Oh, I really wish to pass the lecture of quantum mechanics in the end, too. 

eaRly woRKs

Again, this is another portrait. Maybe it is the first try of portrait. Although the time I post it is later than others, this picture was done several months ago. I imitated a cover of the book titled "100 colpi". I think it's really hard for me to draw it without blueprints. I'm bad to color, especially to decide where bright and dark and how bright it should be. The contours of the girl within are also an uneasy work. Voila! You can see how awful it is! Hope one day I have a revision of it!

tHe SEcoNd TrY

That's the second try. How terrible it is!! But after painting I finally got there're some techniques or keys I'd learn, or I will never do well. Although practices are important, it cannot enable me to make great progress, I think. What does make me think as that? The affection, the most important thing that I believe good paint should be filled with. That is the reason I said it's a fail in prtrait. Indeed, the figure's emotion of the photo I imitated is much softer. I couldn't help to wonder what the arch-criminal of making two images so different is.
However, I can't disagree with the efforts I've made. At last I get a little confidence that I might have the advancement of coloring by practices. By the way, I like the lips. 

PorTRaIt aTTemPt

This is my first try at portraits. The figure's outlines of the face is the part I most hate to draw again and again. Somehow I think it's okay for first try, although this work is quite different from the photo I imitated. Ha Ha Ha...... 

WhirLpOOl

Recently I've got a little depressed. It seems that I was tatally lost in my school works. There's no fun, no progrees, even my confidence. I almost messed up everything. I continually fall. There is a large whirlpool, dark and strong. I'm so in it.

ImagiNRy LoVE

What I'm familar to is what I wonder about. Recently
being silent is almost the only thing what I've done.
How are the passions all quenched
and gone?
There's just the last matter left behind,
the blue sky.
Is that an open-ended pursuit through the entire life, or
just an unnecessary game designed by those foolish guys?
Continually fell and fell and, now, really fell.
I couldn't help to wonder what enables the little boy to advance bravely. 

I'M so shY

The first sight of her was about half a month ago in the building where I rented a room. That was absolutely a chance encounter with a foreign stranger. I was down the stair and she was right in opposition to me. All foolish smiles betrayed my suprise for never seeing a foreigner in where I've lived about 7 monthes. She raised her rays on me. After a quick face for a wonder, she slightly responded, but I could found her frendly. What a exciting occurence to me.
Last night I saw her again. She stood by a geyser. Maybe my footfalls attracted her and she looked back on me. I just beckoned to her without any words. I was disappointed with my silence. How could I say nothing in English? I've learnt it for almost 12 years!!
Next time I must say some words to her, but not "hello".

thE riGhT MEn

So many years have gone by

Always strong, tried not to cry

Never felt like I needed any man

To comfort me in life

But I'm all made up today

A veil upon my face

But no father stands beside me

To give his bride away

Well I'm standing in the chapel

Wearing my white dress

I have waited for this moment

With tears of happiness

Here I leave behind my past

By taking the chance

I've finally found the right man

Thoughts racing fast through my mind

As I'm gazing down the aisle

That my future will mend the memories

Torn between father and child

My emotions overload

'Cause there is no hand to hold

There's no shoulder here to lean on

I'm walking all on my own

Here I go

Now I'm standing at four corners

To have and to hold

Now my love, you stand beside me

To walk life's winding road

And I owe it all to you

For taking the chance

You've shown me there's a right man

'Cause I never knew a right man

Well I'm standing in the chapel

Ready to confess

That I've waited for this moment

With tears of happiness

Now I leave behind my past

By taking the chance

Ohh

Well I'm standing at four corners

To have and to hold

Now my love, you stand beside me

To walk life's winding road

And I owe it all to you

For taking the chance

And one day my little girl

Will reach out her hand

She'll know I found the right man

from [ www.azlyrics.com ]

rEPoSefuL beAcH

Although it is an imitation of a photograph of an ad, it is one and only beach to me. I think the effect is really out of my expectancy. This work did encourage me to practice for painting. However, drawing this kind of repose cost lots of my sleep.

A ROom of One'S oWN

Be that as it may, I could not help thinking, as I looked at the works of Shakespeare on the shelf, that the bishop was right at least in this; it would have been impossible, completely and entirely, for any woman to have written the plays of Shakespeare in the age of Shakespeare. Let me imagine, since facts are so hard to come by, what would have happened had Shakespeare had a wonderfully gifted sister, called Judith, let us say. Shakespeare himself went, very probably,—his mother was an heiress—to the grammar school, where he may have learnt Latin—Ovid, Virgil and Horace—and the elements of grammar and logic. He was, it is well known, a wild boy who poached rabbits, perhaps shot a deer, and had, rather sooner than he should have done, to marry a woman in the neighbourhood, who bore him a child rather quicker than was right. That escapade sent him to seek his fortune in London. He had, it seemed, a taste for the theatre; he began by holding horses at the stage door. Very soon he got work in the theatre, became a successful actor, and lived at the hub of the universe, meeting everybody, knowing everybody, practising his art on the boards, exercising his wits in the streets, and even getting access to the palace of the queen. Meanwhile his extraordinarily gifted sister, let us suppose, remained at home. She was as adventurous, as imaginative, as agog to see the world as he was. But she was not sent to school. She had no chance of learning grammar and logic, let alone of reading Horace and Virgil. She picked up a book now and then, one of her brother’s perhaps, and read a few pages. But then her parents came in and told her to mend the stockings or mind the stew and not moon about with books and papers. They would have spoken sharply but kindly, for they were substantial people who knew the conditions of life for a woman and loved their daughter—indeed, more likely than not she was the apple of her father’s eye. Perhaps she scribbled some pages up in an apple loft on the sly but was careful to hide them or set fire to them. Soon, however, before she was out of her teens, she was to be betrothed to the son of a neighbouring woolstapler. She cried out that marriage was hateful to her, and for that she was severely beaten by her father. Then he ceased to scold her. He begged her instead not to hurt him, not to shame him in this matter of her marriage. He would give her a chain of beads or a fine petticoat, he said; and there were tears in his eyes. How could she disobey him? How could she break his heart? The force of her own gift alone drove her to it. She made up a small parcel of her belongings, let herself down by a rope one summer’s night and took the road to London. She was not seventeen. The birds that sang in the hedge were not more musical than she was. She had the quickest fancy, a gift like her brother’s, for the tune of words. Like him, she had a taste for the theatre. She stood at the stage door; she wanted to act, she said. Men laughed in her face. The manager—a fat, looselipped man—guffawed. He bellowed something about poodles dancing and women acting—no woman, he said, could possibly be an actress. He hinted—you can imagine what. She could get no training in her craft. Could she even seek her dinner in a tavern or roam the streets at midnight? Yet her genius was for fiction and lusted to feed abundantly upon the lives of men and women and the study of their ways. At last—for she was very young, oddly like Shakespeare the poet in her face, with the same grey eyes and rounded brows—at last Nick Greene the actormanager took pity on her; she found herself with child by that gentleman and so—who shall measure the heat and violence of the poet’s heart when caught and tangled in a woman’s body?—killed herself one winter’s night and lies buried at some cross–roads where the omnibuses now stop outside the Elephant and Castle.


BY Virginia Woolf

from http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/w/woolf/virginia/w91r/

BoNjouR?!

This morning I got early but also got pain.
Last night I had a continuous stomachache, then just as expected, I got the period at 04:46. I cannot remember form when, the mensis bring the unbearable stomachache almost everytime. Again, what a suffering early morning!
Maybe because of passing a tough night or the period, I feel depressed although the sun is hanged up so high and mighty that there's almost no pieces of clouds. There are more and more questions flashing through my mind, but my hurting stomach makes me think nothing....

RoCK'n'roLL

Sometimes rock'n'roll music makes me feel more comfortable, especially when I become so short-tempered. That's the reason why "Evanescence's music" are always around me. I fell for their music at first listening. I love the voices, which sound the vent, and the tune full of human emotions. The beauty must be neglected to people who turn the deaf ear to rock. The harshness comforts anooyed, impatient, even mad mood, or more correctly, gives vent to the feeling by following the music, which sounds like the announcer instead.

NigHTMarE

Last night, I cried again for the ghost. The sound I heard was so clear that I couldn't help running away or I would be going to be insane. I wondered that after how many times the continuously repeated show would over, thoroughly. What happened in the yesterday deep night was so familiar to me. Maybe the ghost is the past. If my past could form as my present goblin, could I force it to disappear? Again and again, I supposed I was free from it, however, I turned into fragile instead.
I become so easily annoyed today. There seems a hateful list of persons emerging from my little but chaotic brain. I perform my detestation imaginatvely anytime. I should stop them to occupy my mind, or in other words, it's necessary to wipe out the twisting nightmare. But how?

GirL fRieNDs

Although I am used to getting along with boys, I'd like to make friends with girls. The probable reason is there're always more male friends than females around me. It can be deduced from my chosen domain of study.
In the past, I once considered the complicated thinkings of girl made me hard to do with. However, after 23-year relationships with boys and girls I realized it's not about the genders but the personalities. Accutually sometimes it seems more comfortable to have relationships with girls. There seems to be a contridiction in my words. I think the alteration is caused by some fights, embarrassments, or pleasures with girls and gradually I comprehend that the concept, "boys are easier to do with", are just from my custom not because girls are tough to understand. After all I am a girl.
From this, I think I am still kind of conservative to get acquainted with strangers, even friends. I expect myself making some progress in the aspect.

LeaRnINg LAnGuagE

Recently, I practiced either my English or French.
There're several comprehensive websites I found for learning French. I am so excited and cannot wait to enjoy although they are all in English. I try to take it as a chance to force myself used to reading English websites. It makes me memorize that I also spent lots of time browsing English websites just for a singer, Christina Aguilera.I wish to speak, wirte in English and French as well as in Chinese even if it seems to take me a long time.
Learning language is interesting but not easy to me. I wonder why I like it from I was a child.
Yesterday Paul Lee, my professor , said that the ability of language is accumulated bit by bit. These words encouraged me indeed. Now what I should do is try hard and be patient.