In a hurry, it's already halfway through September. Going out in the early morning, the trail is covered with small yellow leaves of phoenix wood. The crape myrtle bloomed for a whole summer, and at this time the red and fragrant disappeared, as if the tan capsules were covered with brown capsules overnight. The sky is no longer like July and August, and he always shows off the seventy-two changes he just learned, turning his hands into clouds and covering his hands with rain, and gathering them into ink and washes, which always makes people unprepared. In September, just like a young girl who wanted to explore the prosperity outside, she went around and bumped around, and finally realized that she was tired. She took off her ornaments, took off her tired high heels, and sat barefoot in her courtyard.
Everything seems to be just right. Everything seems to leave no trace. Such September always makes me sigh that time flies, always reminds me of an old Korean movie "August Photo Studio".
"The feeling of love will fade, just like old photos." It is also like the sky after a typhoon and rain, flying sand and rocks, stormy waves, and eventually disappearing without a trace. But there are always some clips that will always be beautiful, looking back sweetly.
Re-reading "August Photo Studio" is like re-reading Zhou Zuoren's beautiful essays. He clearly remembered it deeply, but what he showed was a shallow smile and light words. There is a kind of love, not the madness standing in front of the Yiren window with a bottle of wine, but the nostalgia deep in the bone marrow.
A young man who is terminally ill and has a few days to come. I think he will have a heart-wrenching question of "why is it me" at first. But what can I do if I'm not reconciled, the sun still rises every day. From the beginning of this film, Yongyuan has calmly accepted this already written ending. He runs a photo studio that has been handed down from his ancestors. He presses the shutter button for different people every day to leave the most beautiful moments, and occasionally goes out of business and goes to the hospital to grab some medicine. Life was uneventful, until one day a girl named Delin walked into the photo studio, as pure and bright as the sun on an August afternoon.
Love grows secretly. But the most romantic thing is nothing more than two people sharing an umbrella in the rain, sitting next to each other on the sofa and eating a cup of ice cream, and walking arm in arm through a long, dark alley. It was unusual, but it moved our hearts. The most helpless love in the world is to see it wither at the very beginning.
Delin is like the bright and intelligent Zixia Fairy. She can tell that Yongyuan is single from the neatness of the clothes he wears, that he is the only child in the family from the way he eats ice cream, and the two constellations of the two from his words. will match. Not long after the first acquaintance, when Delin was walking down the street with a bag of heavy objects and Yongyuan whizzed past on his motorcycle, Delin decided that he would turn around and stop beside her. How sweet is this certainty. She guessed all the beginnings, but not the ending.
so fast! In a blink of an eye, yellow leaves piled up all over the ground. There are still too many words to say, and too many dreams to come true. But time is short.
In the hospital, his sister asked him if there were any other girls he wanted to notify. Yongyuan was in a trance and smiled, "No, that's fine." After returning from the hospital, he went to find Delin. But what if you found it? He just stood far away, rubbing the familiar figure in the distance with his fingers back and forth across the window. She is always beautiful and will stay in his heart forever. And a few years later, when Delin passed by the photo studio, looked at her old photos on the window, and recalled the man who left quietly, she must have felt warm in her heart. In this way, it is really good.
"August Photo Studio" is not only about love. And affection. Yongyuan taught his father to play videotapes, but his father could not learn it. Under the light, he wrote down the relevant operation steps in detail. Why aren't our parents? Buy back IPDAD, teach them to learn to surf the Internet, use Tudou Youku to search for their favorite TV series or watch ballroom dancing tutorials, but they are always not as fast as children in learning.
Teach them to connect to WI-FI to surf, but the 6G of data traffic will be used up before the end of the month. Looking at the historical records, it turns out that they are also chasing dramas with traffic when they are at home. I told them to quickly turn off the data, and repeatedly told them to remember to watch the video in the WI-FI state. But I regretted later that my parents remembered so much, and the older I get, the more easily injured. Simply spend tens of yuan more to handle an unlimited data Internet package for them. Our parents will change from omnipotent idols to dependent old people, so let's be patient with them, just like when they were young, they took the trouble to teach us pronunciation, writing, and answer our "100,000 whys".
A few months ago, I took my father to a hospital in Shanghai for a recheck. Before leaving, MARY repeatedly told me: "Dad's temperament has changed greatly after the operation, and he is very easy to get angry. You have to take more care." I remember going for a re-examination that day. Blessed, thanks to having two such filial daughters." In the past, when I heard similar words, I didn't take it to heart, maybe my heart was tacit. But at that time, I suddenly thought about the good fortune of my father. It was clearly the grace that God gave us to be filial to our parents during their lifetime.
I still remember that time we stayed at a hotel near Hongqiao Airport, and after dinner we walked back and forth on a trail around the hotel. Next to the path is a small river, and the oleanders are blooming charmingly on the bank. Countless falling reds floated into the water and went down the water, the picture is very beautiful. The plane roared in the sky from time to time. My father and I chatted with each other, but my heart was surprisingly quiet, and I cherished this time alone with my father. About death. Yongyuan sits on the playground, misses his dead mother, and slowly understands that "one day, they will all disappear". Isn't life like this? In the first second, he was "happy and happy to know each other", and in the next second, he was "sad and sad and parted". We keep losing our green years, our unsuspecting playmates, our close friends... Finally, we lose our healthy body and our smart soul.
There is such a clip in the film: an 80-year-old lady came to the photo studio one afternoon surrounded by her children and grandchildren. After the group photo, the children suggested that she take another photo alone. After several times of shirk, she had to force a photo of the younger generation. It was raining heavily at night, and Yongyuan meditated in the photo studio, never expecting customers to come to the door in such bad weather. At this time, the old lady pushed the door and came in. She changed into a new pink dress, with light makeup and a quiet smile. Yongyuan thought she was here to take the photo, but in fact the old lady wanted to take another photo. Because this will be her posthumous photo, she must leave the most beautiful moment in the world.
In the face of death, the young Yongyuan chose to face it calmly and accept it like the old lady. At the end of the film, Yongyuan buttoned up and sat on the chair to take a photo of himself, the corners of his mouth raised, and he silently recited 3-2-1 in his heart.
Death has always been with us. I remember that Zhao's birthday wish when he was five years old was "I wish my mother a long life". A five-year-old child also knows that there is no immortality or eternal youth in the world. The more we value something, the more we tend to fear losing it. When I first became a mother, I often dreamed that Zhao and I lost contact with each other and couldn't find each other. When I ran happily every day, I suddenly thought of what would happen if I couldn't run anymore.
How fragile and hurried life is, and even when you are walking, you may be hit by someone who jumps off the building. Sometimes we can only tell the cruel truth in a joking tone like Yong Won, and vent our unwillingness with occasional alcoholism and trouble. We need to keep more fear in our hearts, and we need to show more beauty to the outside, since in the end we will all go to the known ending.
Life is like a river, rushing forward and disappearing. The preciousness of life may be here. I remember reading a book "The Fountain of Youth" by Natalie Babbitt with Zhao a few years ago. The novel tells the story of the Tucker family of four who accidentally drank the water from the Fountain of Youth when they were developing their homeland. For eighty-seven years, their appearance remained unchanged, and they were not injured by swords or guns. People who had lived with them thought the Tuckers were involved in sorcery, and rumors abounded. The Tucker family had no choice but to return to the Fountain of Youth and live in isolation. Only one day, an 11-year-old girl named Winnie accidentally broke into the jungle, and the Tucker family had to tell her this shocking secret... The Tucker family's youngest son, Jesse, fell in love with Winnie and handed it to Winnie when they parted. Ni got a bottle of water from the Fountain of Youth and told Winnie to drink the spring water when she was 17 years old and then come to him. In this way, they can live together forever. Years later, the Tuckers found Winnie sleeping in the cemetery. She chose to sleep forever.
If there is a spring in the depths of the jungle, drink it and you will live forever. Will you drink it? I had a similar discussion with my girlfriend. The girlfriend is indifferent and elegant, and her perception of beauty is extremely sensitive. But she said softly on the other end of the phone, "If I were a decade or two younger, I might miss a friend like you. What's the point of being young?"
Once, I also wanted to stay in this youthful and happy age forever, but now I suddenly think that if I could never die, I might be like Mei in the novel, too lazy to dress up in the mirror. There will be no white hair dyed on the temples, no wrinkles on the forehead, the same appearance, what else is good? Moreover, if I could live forever, would I still cherish every encounter and every choice in such a long life? Will you still be in awe of every storm? Every word?
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