ABOUT MY WORKS
 
í˝I love looking for trivial, fragile things on surfaces and in installations, things of no consequence. I also love secretly describing the details of life, apparently rationally and politely, calming them with fake, false and unto -ordinated moethods, in short, letting the stupidity shine through.
í˝My pictures look as if arranged randomly, but who can say my works aren't realistic? My chicken, which runs around uncontrolled all over the place dropping excrement everywhere likes mixing with classy society and joining in the fun. My footloose sister seems to have no relationship to a plane, but who cares whether she has a relationship with a plane or not? She gets out her suitcase and keeps rushing off to places, you'll find her footprints in the Gobi Desert, the savannah has felt her sweat, wild animals on the road keep causing her problems. She thrusts her chest forwards and her back- side upwards and carries our Chinese cabbage andmonkeys' bananas; perhaps tomorrow she can carry your uncle's child and drag your aunt's nephew. She never feels tired when she's working, she always walks gracefully, and is always mysterious and sensitive. Perhaps she's just you or me. She can also sit exhausted besides a rock with her shoes off, smelling the scent of the flowers and listening to the birds.
í˝''She goes with us on journeys, loaded up with watermelons, trembling with worry. If the watermelons don't get through security, we can't get on the plane, but we're already tired with thirst, at least we can sit here and eat the melons now, that would have to be the existential wisdom of the Chinese. existential wisdom evolved out  of the mud but now made available to the whole earth.'' (Hu Fang)
í˝Spring is coming, the trees in the north haven't turned green yet, but the decoration in the sitting room brings you signs of spring and summer: light green, curtains printed with small flowers, a black and green throw on the sofa, yellow.and green striped and check bed cover, Haricot -coloured table cover, table cloth, an outsize calendar on the wall, already turned to the page ''Signs of spring in April'' ahead of time; in the sitting room hangs Proud Horse Galloping in the Spring Wind by Xu Beihong two or three vases of fresh flowers stand on the windowsill in the bedroom, and then the scent of perfume smelling slightly of flowers as well ... Nothing that doesn't give off the breath of spring.
í˝Guilin is located on a limestone massif, a karst formation geologically. That means not only is the town surrounded by peaks and rocks but there are also a number of hills in the middle of the town. ''Solitary Beauty Peak'', ''Diecai (Folded Brocade) Hill'', ''Elephant Trunk Hill'', ''Fubo (Wave-Subduing) Hill'', ''SevenĎ╗Star Cave'', ''Reed Flute Cave'' etc. They have all become places touristy visit, and have their own special features .
í˝Slowly walk through the city in the shade of the osmanthus trees. In this golden autumn, the scent of osmanthus carries a long way and makes people's souls drunk.
í˝The gardens of Suzhou are similarly beautiful: plum trees, orchids, bamboos, peonies, pines, mist and hills ,I could describe them forever, just like my other great love-Chinese cabbage, water melons, turnips aubergines ..
í˝The feeling that a picture is unfinished, the beauty of clouded moonlight, vulgar, elegant, mysterious, indecent ,pithy, garrulous, childish, clever, rough, imitative, fake polite and charming. Life is a heap of mixed material of unclear quality. I should like to put it together, but the more you arrange it, the more chaotic it becomes ,there's still no connecting thread.
í˝As far as the theatre is concemes,I prefer funny plays from the countryside.
í˝Painting shows us there's a world outside the real world.
í˝The imagination, the lubrication for everything: a secret, more you talk about it, the sooner it ceases to be one. Nature, buds opening, leaves falling, snow, the shadow of the moon, a rainbow, mist. All realism is contained in them, and aesthetic emotion.
í˝My technique is precise enough, not too much, not too little. Like my footloose sister's bosom, it fits exactly into one hand.
í˝The hand luggage is extremely mysterious, no one has opened it yet.
í˝Looking for material for my artistic work, I went to Shaoguan in Guangdong Province in 1999, in order to immerse myself in the life there. But when I painted an old. rundown chicken farm. I was amazed to notice pictures on a cloth of the windscreen wall with indistinct foreign letters. Presumably these pictures had been in the henhouse for years, they had already turned yellow, darkened and also become coated with chicken excrement. To establish the names on the pictures and checkthe originality of the pictures, I looked through a lot of material and often went to the local artists' association to get information. Finally I got a little information from the mouth of an old painter. It was true, he really had been thereĎ╗Julian Schnabel, the famous painter of plates from America, had come to Danxiashan in 1980.It is said that, on arriving in China, the colours of the countryside were so variegated and so different it addled his brain and he was out of control when he paintedthese pictures. I couldn't contain my excitement and started work cleaning them very carefully and accurately.I brushed the chicken shit off and took the pictures out of the henhouse. In the sunlight, I noticed with amazement that his plum blossom, orchids, chrysanthemums and bamboos were copies of Qi Baishi. I was delighted he hadn't painted any Tibetan people to express the different conditions of a country, but immediately lost hope again when I saw that he'd painted young Uigur girls picking grapes.
í˝ It was also said that at the time Schnabel wanted to go on to India and across the sea to Burma, then on to Argentina and the Congo. On a long journey like that it was uncomfortable carrying a lot of works around.He also wanted to take some Ming furniture with him,so he left the pictures behind at the house of a friend.At the time, the Soviet style was very widespread,and members of the artists' association had no great opinion of the value of his pictures. Even today, some of them are still secretly wondering whether the shaping of the human figure is allowed. Then in the eighties his friend died unexpectedly of carbon monoxide poisoning .The pictures passed through many hands and ended up in the unit's warehouse. Later at the time of the economic reforms, the warehouse was rented to a chicken breeder...
í˝I resolutely put down the predominant work at hand and immediately became absorbed in the work of cleaning and rescuing the pictures, from morning to night. As i worked, I was surrounded by cackling chickens, they ran up and down but didn't disturb me. I often thought how really good and sensible the chickens were.
í˝At the right temperature, the chicks feel fresh and cheerful. full of life and bustle.When they're feeding they clamber all over the place, pecking the feed. When they rest, they sleep a sensible distance apart from each other, not packed together. Peacefully, not cheeping much. If the temperature is too high, the chicks
look for water to drink, opening their beaks and wings,panting for air. Particularly in summer, towards evening when it's hot and gets dark, the chicks move together and after a while they're often overcome by strokes.So in summer, the chicks should only be herded together very late, and the windows often need opening. When the temperature is low, the chicks are not very lively, they stand by themselves and scarcely walk around. They're all fluffed up, and at night they're restless when they sleep, and cheep. They pile into a heap, the chicks on the outside wanting to get into the middle, and the ones in the middle are often crushed to death. It's important that the person who feeds them should always keep an eye on how the chicks are moving about.
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