Pictures at an exhibition

I haven’t been to a museum or art gallery for some time. A long time ago, I used to spend a lot of time visiting them, especially during weekdays and those that did not charge you anything for entrance. Free entrance and weekday visits often mean you can spend a lot of undisturbed time with the art pieces you like.

Being a mediocre art appreciator, I am always attached to a limited number of European artists whose works are often “commercialized.” Most of them are not contemporary but thrived in the modern art age. For those modern and contemporary local, Chinese or Oriental artists, I owe them an apology for being apathetic to their hard work. Very often, when there are traces of resemblance to some “great” artists in their works, I judge them as an imitation, or worse, a copy. I must admit I cannot help seeking out those traces whenever I notice the artists’ names are likely to be oriental. This is indeed my problem.

An old man and his music

Six months had passed since my resignation from the job I had enjoyed for over two decades, or a request for early retirement that I always told others. So, I was not fired.

No dream to fulfill and no desire for a later reemergence, I told my ex-colleagues, who politely best-wished me more wonderful days to come. A few told me it was too soon, but they respected my decision – those were the best farewell words for me.

I was the last one to leave the office for the last time at 10:15 pm. I did not miss it badly, but the feeling was strange and eerie, and the same 10 minutes’ walk in the cold down the hill to the bus stop made me feel unreal.