Wen 丨 Liu Hongzhou
I remember that when I was a child, before the New Year every year, an old man in the front of the barracks in the alley next door always opened the wooden door of his low hut for the convenience of lighting, and in the cold, he saw the light that penetrated into the sky, colored the lamps and lanterns tied for the Spring Festival, and after completing this last process, he could take it to participate in the New Year's lantern party. After the wooden door of his house is opened, like the customs of this place, there is also a "waist door", the so-called waist door, which is a low door that is waist high, in order to prevent the entry and exit of small animals such as chickens and dogs, it is also a facility to prevent children from running out. On a snowy day, I tiptoed up, plucked an ice strip from his low eaves, and tasted the ice like a popsicle, which was both fragranceless and tasteless, only the cold shivering stimulus. I looked at his waist door to see him draw fascinatingly, only to see a bamboo cage in front of his crotch, his nose was almost falling, and the red brush pointed out some beautiful flowers on the paper paste lantern. The old man knew that it was me who had come to see him paint again, and his head did not turn back to him and said, "You know?" Red plum is my best product! ”
I couldn't help but say, "Looks good! ”
He still said without turning his head, "Go to the Temple of the Heavenly King!" There are a lot of beautiful plum blossoms there! ”
The old man's surname was Tan, and he used to be a reader, so at that time, people honored him with the word: Bingquan. We call him "Tambo." Tambo's origins are unknown, but I was alone when I met him. Usually, he sets up a street stall outside the East Gate, selling some old clothes, hats, shoes, socks, bottles, cans and cans that he collected cheaply, with jade calligraphy and paintings on it, pots and pans and spoons under it, known as the waste stall, making some small money to maintain his livelihood. In his spare time, he also painted some flowers and insects and fish, and sold them to others to embed in the glass cabinet for decoration. The days before the play year were his busiest and happiest days, and the paper tyressers had to take the semi-finished products to ask him to "dress", that is, to complete the final process of drawing. I think that without him, I am afraid that I will be many years less flavorful.
When will the New Year's lamp be gone, and the old man will be gone. But whenever I see plum blossoms, I think of this person named "Tambo". I want to Chinese New Year's Eve the various lanterns of the paper-tied ichthyosaur vase of the night, the smiling faces of the people who want to flash in the lights, and the old man holding a paintbrush behind the waist door in the cold.
The Temple of the Heavenly King in Phoenix City is halfway up the Scenic Mountain in the south of the city, and the Scenic Mountain is the remnant of the foothills of nanhua Mountain. From the naming of Nanhua Mountain, we can see the arrogance of the Phoenix people. The entire foothills of Nanhua Mountain are covered with tall trees. Red maple, spruce, masson pine, chestnut tree, camphor tree, eucommia tree, soap horn tree, Biri arpeg tree... Cover a large mountain that is far away from mayang Xihuang Mountain. The literati of the Qing Dynasty made a "eight major scenery" for the ancient city of Fenghuang, of which Nanhua Diecui refers to the most magnificent of these eight scenes. Standing at the Temple of the Heavenly King halfway up the Scenic Mountain, overlooking Phoenix City is truly unobstructed! Just in response to a tourist word: a green mountain hugs the ancient city!
According to Tan Bo's suggestion, I invited a few friends to go to the Temple of the Heavenly King, because of the long time, I can't remember the scene at that time. I remember one winter in the 1990s, when heavy snow fell for a day and a night, and the earth was white. The small city of Phoenix is like a child in a white hat, lying in a white swaddle in the foothills of the South China Mountains. The Tuojiang River, which runs through the city, is like a black ribbon tied to this landscape. I hadn't seen such a big snow in several years, so I was excited to step out of the first line of footprints in the snow, step on the creaking snow, and go to the Temple of the Heavenly King in the morning to look for plums.
As I got closer, I saw the temple's red walls and old, black ledges. There are dozens of plum blossoms in the temple, and the branches of the trees are full of overlapping and overlapping. It should have been very wanton, but it was overwhelmed by the heavy snow, and they struggled from time to time, making a loud noise, shaking a large pile of snow on the path. I saw the little red flowers that appeared in the snow, shining in the morning sun. The cold dark fragrance of plums suddenly burst out of the snow and hit me in the heart, giving me a kind of wake-up call, the snow turned out to be fragrant. Plum incense soaked in the snow, for a long time, the snow will naturally be soaked with those dark incense. This dark incense cannot be seen or touched, but it is refreshing. The sound of the violin seemed to ripple around my ears, but it was actually the state of silence, nothing more than the illusion that this snow plum brought to me. I wonder how colors can be associated with music!
Overhear some creeping noises in the distance, or don't want to step on this Qiongyao-like world! I saw an elder on another path, so early to go up the mountain, must be a wonderful person! The person came in a gray coat, a red scarf around the neck, one end behind him, and one hanging on the chest, solemn and steady. He stopped and walked, and when he got closer, he could see a face under the hat, white and clear. "Principal Pei!" I eagerly greeted him. As soon as he saw that it was me, he greeted me and sighed: Mo Daojun is early, and there are even more early pedestrians!
At the time of liberation, he was a teacher in a private school run by the Chamber of Commerce, young and promising, deeply learned, extremely well-cultivated, introverted and not ostentatious. After liberation, as the principal of a primary school, I once heard one of his impromptu speeches, and in the face of the team that came from other places to communicate, I opened my mouth and said: "There are friends from afar, and they are not happy..." The gushing words were shocked and silent. I watched him stand in front of the red plum and quietly admire the plum, embarrassed to ask an old question that was lingering in my heart: Everyone said why did he pick up dung and dress so neatly?
As if deeply afraid that the sound of words would shock the silver makeup of the tree, he waved softly at me to say goodbye. I watched him bend over the plum bushes and disappear silently into the cold incense. I suddenly remembered a Song poem: Who transformed into a hundred billion, a tree plum blossom a bird. Which plum tree will he stay under?
Later, when I also became a painter, I also began to like to paint plums in my old age, in addition to going to the Tianwang Temple in my hometown, I also went to the Lingfeng Peak in Hangzhou's West Lake to admire plums, and received plum influence. Plum Garden in Hangzhou, Botanical Garden in the north corner of West Lake. There are various varieties of plum blossoms on the Ten Mile Zhangtai Road, which is really a sea of flowers. One day, it was the first sunny day after the snow, and the buildings along the way were full of tourists. Occasionally, a few people sang Wu Nong's soft Yue opera behind Mei Cong, and in the clear sky, white pigeons flew overhead with whistles, and more agitated violins played Liang Zhu. I watched the snow plums, smelled the plum fragrance everywhere, and remembered Liang Zhu's sad and touching love story. How can tragedy become an important aesthetic that shocks people's hearts? How can this poignant love story be transformed into beautiful music? This is an enduring topic of aesthetics! I have realized that both snow fragrance and music have the characteristics of beauty, and they must have some kind of internal connection.
So I thought, when can I turn the ink fragrance on the paper into an intoxicating plum fragrance? Unfortunately, "I report the road to the twilight", in fact, this topic is too big. When will I be able to draw the plum blossoms in my heart as freely as Tambo.
One year in the early spring, in the cold and snowy weather, I was making a red plum, and suddenly the poem was flourishing, and I had to make a small word like a dream, which was:
The old dry horizontal oblique lean thin, ten thousand flowers after the red spring. Drunkenly sprinkle the plum man, but swing the bald. Fragrant, fragrant, stubborn stone lingyu know?
I don't know how others are, in the snow incense, plum incense and ink incense, I got drunk first. The slow life of the phoenix is just worthy of this poetic town with snow, plum and ink!
2022.2.13.In one spoon dwelling