The 128 most classic philosophical essays in the world

Chapter 20 How wonderful!live beautifully
[United States] Liu Yong
"How beautiful!" He clasped his hands and exhaled white smoke, raised his head, looked at the tall buildings that seemed to be surrounding him, and said almost admiringly: "New York! A city that really sees people." Pointing Gaolou, and pointing to the ronin squatting on the corner of the street, "They are all created by people, all kinds of people, how beautiful!"

"I've been in a dilemma recently." A male student with good qualifications said to me, "I have two girlfriends who both love me, and I also like them very much. I don't know which one to choose."

"It means that the two conditions are similar." I said.

"No! There are quite a lot of poor conditions." The student stared at me and said, "One is very rich and has a large Steinway piano at home. The other is very poor. I often call her and play half of it. I can’t say anything. Because her bedroom is right next to the railway, the whole house vibrated when the train passed by, and I couldn’t hear anything, so I just stared at the phone in a daze.”

Half a year later, I met that student, who was already married.

"Married someone with a Steinway piano?" I laughed.

"No! I married someone in the poor area next to the railway."

"Oh!" I nodded, "It's not simple! Is there any special reason?"

"Yes! One day, I went to her house and sat in her bedroom chatting. Suddenly, a train passed by and it was so loud! A gust of wind blew up the curtains. It was a very cheap thin cotton curtain. She used it herself. Hand-sewn. At this time, the sun came in, and I saw a flowerpot made of half-cut plastic bottles on the window sill, and there was a cluster of unknown small yellow flowers in it. I asked her what it was. She was very excited. I'm sorry, but I said it was a worthless flower. I asked again, "It's very beautiful! What kind of flower is it?" She hesitated for a long time before saying, "It's a small grass flower dug from the wild, it's worthless!" Student face There was a very special brilliance on her face: "You know what? I was suddenly moved and rushed to hug her, telling her not to say that, don't say it's worthless, the feeling of beauty cannot be measured by money!" At that moment, I realized that I fell deeply in love with her.'”

The words of the students often come to my mind. I often imagine the curtains that are bathed in the afternoon sun and blown by the wind, and the clump of weeds and flowers on the window sill.How ordinary, how beautiful!
I remember one Valentine's Day, I went to a flower shop to order flowers, and the owner of the flower shop took a rose for me.

When I got home, I put the rose in a thin bottle.Two days later, Valentine's Day flowers were also delivered, 24 roses.I found another big crystal vase and put the roses in it.

The strange thing is, compared with the 24 fragrant roses and the lonely branch next to it, I have a special feeling for that branch, and I feel so delicate, so meticulous, and so wise.

I also remembered that I once went to the house of Mr. He Haotian, the former director of the History Museum.His home is very clean and simple, there are no flowers on the table, only the young shoots of sweet potatoes emerging from a pot.The light red sweet potato skin and the green and curved vine leaves give people a special elegance.Let me go back to my childhood. In my memory, the garlic seedlings raised by my father in a small water container, in front of the window in winter, sprouted a piece of fresh green.

The true beauty is often like a simple Zen ink painting, which does not require gorgeous colors or complicated composition, but it can attract people's reverie and give people beauty in the "empty" place.

Since my daughter went to kindergarten, she often gives me this kind of beauty.

She has a work basket, which looks like a trash can at first glance.There are hats made of brown paper bags from the supermarket, figures made of clothespins and buttons, masks made of paper plates, and pictures made of soybeans.

The school sends out notices at every turn, asking parents to prepare empty fresh milk boxes for their children, or the "paper rolls" left over from the toilet paper.Then let the children bring back toys made of those wastes from school.

The problem is, the waste in the eyes of adults has become the treasure of children.They don't care about worldly values, they only care about whether they are moved and imagined.

So, I often see the little girl showing off her work.I thought she was stupid at first, but after thinking about it, I realized that I was vulgar.She reminds me of that student's girlfriend, the plastic vase flowerpot on the windowsill, and the little grass flowers inside.It reminds me of a former Columbia University professor’s words: “The purpose of your teaching art in the future should not be to cultivate a few professional artists, but to cultivate a group of citizens with a sense of beauty, so that they can see it from the most ordinary things. Beauty also knows how to use the ordinary things around to create beauty; to make them have a positive and happy attitude towards life, not just the real value; and to make them face the suffering of life with a sense of beauty.”

I remember when I first arrived in New York, I went to see an old friend in the art world in Soho.Entering his studio, I almost choked.

There was a cloud of smoke and dust, and there was a strong smell of paint everywhere. He was immersed in repairing antiques.

He slowly pieced together the pieces of porcelain sent by customers.First use glue to bond, then fill and polish with porcelain powder.Then paint the broken patterns as they were originally.Then use the canned paint sprayed on the aircraft to spray the surface into a bright glaze.

My friend took off the mask, walked out of the studio with me, walked carefully through the mud of residual snow, and walked onto the dark streets of Manhattan.

"How beautiful!" He clasped his hands and exhaled white smoke, raised his head, looked at the tall buildings that seemed to be surrounding him, and said almost admiringly: "New York! A city that really sees people." Pointing Gaolou, and pointing to the ronin squatting on the corner of the street, "They are all created by people, all kinds of people, how beautiful!"

I looked at his face and saw the emotion on that face, and I was also moved from the bottom of my heart—he is a real artist.In such an unsatisfactory time, he is still happy and still lives beautifully.

Heart mark notes
A piece of cheap thin cotton curtain sewn by hand, a flower pot made by cutting half of a plastic bottle, a pot of young sweet potato seedlings, some fragments of porcelain... the bits and pieces of life, just like this, so ordinary, but It is so beautiful.This kind of beauty is real and real, and it can touch the heart and reach the depths of the soul.

There are beautiful details everywhere in life. Those who love life, they often see the world with a beautiful vision, and perceive life with a tolerant and delicate heart. Even if they have complaints and worries, they are all resolved.With a grateful heart, collect the bits and pieces you have experienced, and you will find that simplicity is a kind of greatness.

(End of this chapter)