Gong Jing: The stitch at the end of the year

On such days, I joyfully do some needlework, wear fine wool, turn out the old turtleneck sweater, and cut it into a low neck. It seems that after middle age, the requirements for clothes become "loose". Needle and thread female red learned from a young age, sewing and patching is no problem, in the early years of cutting paper samples to make simple short-sleeved cloth shirts can also be, of course, now the sewing machine is not stepped on, just a pants edge, sew something, and even repair the sweater's small moth eyes are also passable, as for many years ago in the dark shirt embroidered a few flowers, the hole into a leaf, such a job is rarely done, cervical vision can not eat. But the needle and threader tithes everything, the late grandmother's fruit-shaped wooden needle and thread board is still hidden, the curly thick thread is just right, and at the end of the year, I think it is quite appropriate to do some needlework at the end of the year.

Threading needles, fixing the heart, like learning embroidery in the wind of the stairwell with the neighbor's female companion in the summer vacation of the youth, the sweat is slowly collected, even if the tip of the nose is densely oozing out, the handkerchief is wiped, drink a few sips of barley tea, and still embroider a small flower with peace of mind. Up and down, the needle and thread is like some kind of concatenation, even the end and the beginning of the year, the end and the beginning, the connection between the meditation and depression, although in fact, there is no boundary between these, various occurrences still continue, all kinds of pain still continues, the external internal pain is still depressed, and even at the end of the year, there are often relatives and friends leaving, family diseases, warm hearts and heartbreak intertwined and torn, the mood is always rushing left and right, but see the camphor tree sprouting spring leaves in winter, seeing the cherry blossom leaves in late autumn are as rosy as maple leaves, Inevitably got the silk comfort, do not have to sigh that the vision has been old, like the old grandmother who saw it when she was young, she wore a few times to put the needle and thread in place, the stitches of the grandmother when she was old were still so symmetrical and straight, like her life in life is usually simple and tough, every time she does needle and thread, I can't help but miss the short-sleeved shirts and Chinese clothes made by my grandmother, the pipa buttons on the cardigan, and now people do not hesitate to praise how beautiful the buckles are, in grandma's thin hands are just ordinary handicrafts, and now I often think, The women of the past who disappeared into time were so indifferent. Just like the stitches of the old clothes, they are always clean, it does not follow the time to make up, it is just the appearance of handmade duties.

In the winter moon, go to the people's square in the morning, the sun at nine o'clock, under the ginkgo tree, the sprinkler car rides by, the road is like a watercolor painting, the people and cars are not dense, not far away the white pigeons and children flash in the morning light, the pigeons flutter and fly on the camphor, the appropriate jump, and then walk into the Upper Bo to see the calligraphy and paintings of the past, time and space are staggered, separated by many, many light and shadow and people, people who write, people who paint, have been so proper and flying, Dong Qichang Linmi's "Tianma Fu", majestic and ups, in the quiet exhibition room full of vitality, pen and ink lines, square inches inside and outside the atmosphere, It is interspersed with the Song Dynasty and the Ming Dynasty, and is interspersed with Mi Fu and Dong Qichang. Seeing the five-word poem page of Hai Rui's book, Shangbo explained that it was Hai Rui's rare surviving handwriting, "The son fishing is not outlined, and the heart is in gain." Plum blossom river fishing, sitting for a long time to forget the morning and sunset. Love is like the stream is clear, dreams and cold fragrance are white. The wind and snow are nobody, and the pengmao illuminates the color", the poem is written cleanly, and the handwriting is also introverted, and the imaginary Hai Rui who presides over the control of the water in Jiangnan is slightly different, in fact, it is also the inner quality. Today, so many years later, we can still see these undulating lines, and feel the impact of some invisible qi, which is probably like a dense needle in time and space.

A film crew used the demolished old house on Jiangyin Street to repair several Republic of China paving, cinema photo studios and rice shops, etc., which attracted people to visit for a while. Old residents see the old street as if the body enters the memory, and the new guests visit the imagination to add memories to the present and get what they want. Crane giant arm large reflector lamps, Republic of China style green leather props large truck, one by one. Shanghai big sister gray coat black tights black boots beret of course to take pictures everywhere, with the uncle of the class unambiguous, the big sister leaned on the front of the car to pose but not addicted, but to climb the top of the car with both feet and hands, sideways looking, the fourth and fifth uncle came over, and made the sister's chin up. At this time, is there a sentence of "patrolling and coming", and how does the big sister posture? An old couple is reserved, not a long shirt cheongsam, but the moment is ordinary, arm pulled up, stitch drip tuk, back shadow on both sides, one side of the old street corner, one side to demolish the old house and tall buildings, takeaway brother's electric car from the side of the gallop, this is the generations, time and space to undertake, the appearance of the old street whether it is real or nothing in memory, but also the needle and thread of the years.

And the taxi driver in his hometown of Anhui talked about the epidemic and the stars, this year may be the same as last year, have to be on the spot for the New Year, fortunately the National Day holiday back to go back, right? "It's different, it feels different when I go home for the New Year." Oh, how is it different? "New Year's Day, the old people in the family look forward to it, usually there are very few people in the village, they all go out to work, and they go home for the New Year. When I was a child, I followed my father to carry the pig's head to each family to worship the New Year, the pig's head is the meaning, to the offering table to offer an offering, and then to the next family, then I felt so troublesome, now I know that it is a ritual to sacrifice the ancestors, my father also let me pass it on when I was dying, but now it is very rare, holding a pig's head to run the east and run the west, very little. So I said that I could go back in the new year or I hoped to go back, and everyone was lively and lively. "In fact, the driver has bought a house in the county seat, and plans to withdraw from Shencheng in a few years and retire from the county town." Speaking of which, in the occasional small talk with guests in the "blood vessels" of the big city, the fireworks of the hometown, the memories of the pig's head, and the fragments of different time and space.

Recently painted an old plum blossom, with a little abstract meaning, black branches and thin strips of thickness and thickness, shape size dark red light flower dots are also dense and dense dense set, a corner of the ink added a small mountain, as if the dense old plum and mountain air echo. On another piece of rice paper, along with the ink marks, he unfolded a dry lotus map with the dry branches as the frame, and dyed the dry lotus under the sunset with golden dots. Mei and Lotus, separated by dust and popularity, are embellished with each other as a piece of peacock fur in heaven and earth. (Gong Jing)