Chapter 34

This worried Xu Haodong. He was worried about Fang Zheng. Fang Zheng was almost smelly. His clothes were so dirty that he couldn't see their original appearance. He wanted to pull him up and change his clothes. He was afraid that Fang Zheng would lose his temper. He finally fell asleep.

Do not know what to do, or squat in the side of the bed.

"Fang Zheng, daughter-in-law, take off your clothes and I'll wash them for you."

Fang Zheng covers his head with a pillow.

"Take it off. It's hard for you to sleep in clothes."

Fang Zheng sat up unsatisfied and took off his coat, jeans, socks and quilt.

Xu Haodong quickly took off his socks, stuffed his feet into the quilt, and the air conditioner turned up the temperature before he brought them out.

Why is this sock the same.

Absolutely busy in the wrong mix up, where are the remaining socks?

Sharp eyed in Fang Zheng's studio door to see one. It's so strange. How to throw socks in painting? It is said that artists have a strange temper, but their family is even more strange.

The door had been damaged by him for a long time. He had to mend it, but the lock couldn't be locked. Xu Haodong just went in to see what dirty clothes he had.

All the painters have such a pair of big aprons full of paint, which can't be washed out. A blanket beside him was thrown on the ground. Fang Zheng was not used to it very well sometimes. When he was tired, he lay down on the ground, grabbed it and covered it. He didn't want to walk a few steps back to his bedroom.

Wash it before you cover it.

I went to the middle of the studio and looked up to see Fang Zheng's new painting and Xu Haodong's aesthetic appreciation. The more realistic the painting, the better. Fang Zheng's painting is so lifelike, especially real, especially specific, and the characters are very vivid. It's like people in the painting can find the feeling of deja vu.

This painting, how to say, Xu Haodong looked at it and wanted to cry.

It's a very sad feeling.

A man with silver hair, white temples, wrapped in a turban, wrinkled eyes, a small blood hole in his hand, put his hand on his forehead, looked at the sunset thoughtfully, and his face was pale.

It's tea lady.

The hardships of life make the little old lady older than her peers.

At dusk in the west mountain, not only the scenery, but also people can see that the old lady's life is not long.

People can't help thinking of their mother, thinking about what their mother is like, is old, white hair, loess buried neck.

How to look at my heart is not right, want to look back to my mother's feeling.

Xu Haodong sat down on the ground and his eyes were wet when he saw the painting.

A painting, all kinds of sad taste, can think of that sentence, the son wants to raise but kiss not in. Depression.

Xu Haodong pondered a problem. No one would buy this kind of painting. It's too sad. He has money and will never buy this kind of painting. Isn't that the poem? Just the one with the ticket.

How does the poem of the ticket say? Missing is a stamp, a ticket, a tomb, an inside one and an outside one? He doesn't read much. He can only remember so much.

"It's said that there's something wrong with the artist's spirit. Fang Zheng can't be depressed. How to draw this kind of thing? It can't sell for money. It's hard to stay at home and enjoy it by yourself. It's hard to watch it. I'm not going to be thrown to the toilet when I participate in the exhibition. "

"Those who draw flowers and grasses are more auspicious than this. Look at the flowers and wealth. People all embroider cross stitch. How nice. What does he think about? Oh, yes, he said that I talked to him about Hongyang tea when he closed the door, which probably affected him."

Xu Haodong smoked himself.

"Let's talk nonsense. Let's fight for influence. Artists are sensitive and vulnerable. In the future, we can only say good things to him, not bad things. "

He's not good. He's giving Fang an idea that he can't fight, and he's influencing Fang.

"Is he a bit depressed?"

Xu Haodong patted his thigh and felt that he had got the idea.

"He has a bad relationship with his mother, so it's reflected in his paintings?"

"When I accompanied him up the mountain, he was always looking at the old cemetery. What else did he say, lie in there sooner or later? Ouch, lying trough

Xu Haodong was so scared that he stood up and turned around in a hurry.

"I said that he didn't speak much and people were lazy. They were all here. What's the matter. Get a psychiatrist? Will it work? "

"No, no, no, maybe I think too much, maybe it's just this painting."

Xu Haodong quickly calmed down again, thinking that maybe he thought too much. That depression, is not to say that food does not eat, sleep does not sleep? Fang Zheng ate a lot and slept well!

A lot of drawing boards were piled up in the corner, and several finished paintings were wrapped up in cloth. Xu Haodong put his head out, but Fang Zheng didn't come out. According to his habit of sleeping for more than ten hours after he was very tired, Fang Zheng didn't happen to get up and find that he was peeping at the paintings.

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