Chapter 28 Twenty-five potato sacks

Letter from son to MM: MODERNITY MM: During my two-week vacation in Germany, I was completely immersed in the feeling of "home". "Go home feeling good. This time when I came home, I found two large new paintings hanging in the entrance, both of which were oil paintings.One depicts angels flying in the air, and below is a typical image of hell.In another, Mary holds the baby Jesus in her arms.What's more, there is a wooden angel nailed to the pillar in the living room. In my impression, this home has never had so many traces of religion.I grew up in a non-religious, "free" environment.

I asked my dad, "What's the matter with you? Did your girlfriend convert you to a religion?" You know, his girlfriend, Billie, is the type who goes to church every week and prays before meals.He replied in his usual unscrupulous way that he wanted visitors to know that he was living with the "devil"—he was an angel, and my brother Hua Fei and I were "devils".Of course I fired back, saying I thought he was our "hell". He won't give me the real answer, but I think I know what the answer is: My dad and I have one fundamental difference, a difference in taste.He likes classic things.I still remember that we went to a sculpture exhibition together, and all the exhibits were religious art.I was bored to death, but he watched with gusto.

A few days ago, a friend who wanted to enter the Berlin Academy of Design came to me.Because she was going to apply for a school, she had to prepare some works.Let's go to the old town.She took a camera and took pictures along the way.The funny thing is, I thought she would take photos of churches and castles in our famous ancient town, but all afternoon she took photos of utility poles, iron manhole covers for underground sewers, or concrete floors in parking lots. A few days later, I went to her house to see the finished product: three photos were pasted on a large black cardboard box. In the photos, the utility pole was viewed from three different angles, and a red thread was twisted and twisted around the utility pole. , and finally a crooked word appeared: Modernity, MM, tell me: what is your taste?

Wearing a burlap bag is about the same I am sitting in front of the computer and writing to you while listening to music.This is how you see me: jeans, a red polo shirt, dark red running shoes.Shoes and tops are subtly coordinated.The clothes and pants are a bit loose, because today is a lazy weekend.Two best friends were cooking dinner in the kitchen, before we basked in the sun on the balcony.When you wake up in the morning, you know that today is a loose and comfortable day, so the clothes you choose are loose and comfortable clothes.After waking up in the morning, I need a total of half an hour to take care of myself, of which about 10 minutes are spent in the bathroom and 20 minutes are spent thinking about clothes.Then let's look at you: you also need about half an hour, but I guess it's the opposite, you need 20 minutes in the bathroom to wash your hair, face and lotion, but only 10 minutes to get dressed.Writer mom, you are right?And shopping for clothes.Your closet is quite full, mine is empty - compared to yours.This is because our buying behavior is very different.You buy clothes on a whim. You buy something you like when you see it on the road, and you will probably never wear it when you get home.I am the opposite of you, MM, I "deliberately" how to wear and match, and then only look for a specific piece of clothing when I know exactly what I lack.Turns out, we actually spend the same amount of money and time on clothes, the difference is, mine is curated (and usually 100 times better than yours), and you dress, ha, sometimes I feel like, you Just throw a potato sack over it or cover it with a rug, and the aesthetics will be about the same!

Stereotyped without knowing it Two months ago, my father came to Hong Kong to visit me.The first night he took me to his favorite bar in Hong Kong called Ned Kellys Last Stand.The furniture is all heavy wood and there is very little space.A few foreigners sat there drinking beer.The small stage in the middle was crowded with musical instruments, as if one person accidentally knocked over a musical instrument, and the whole pile would collapse.At 10:30 in the evening, the orchestra started to play, it was Dixieland jazz, and the number of people gradually increased, filling the bar.Dad, kind of intoxicated, said the bar reminded him of "the old days".The next day, it was my turn to take him to "my bar".I chose the "cool name" Dragon-i.Hey, it seems to be the reverse version of Ned Kellys from the night before: no old wood, the table top is pure black design, the chairs have scarlet upholstery, and the ceiling hangs down with dragon lanterns.There's no jazz band, but a DJ is there playing turntables, spinning out Hip-Hop and R&B.The night before we drank mugs of beer, here we drank martinis and gin cocktails.It was full of young people, and I noticed that Dad did look a little uncomfortable.You've probably guessed what I'm trying to say by now, right?Mom, let me ask you two questions: First, why do we have such different "tastes"?Is it because we belong to different generations?Or is it because we come from different cultures?Or, is there a class factor?The second question is more critical, that is, Mom, why don’t you learn about my era or culture or the taste world of “class”?Your dressing philosophy, Dad's religious aesthetics and his nostalgic bars are not my style, but I can still appreciate them.I am willing to go to museums to see sculpture exhibitions, and it’s not bad to sit in a nostalgic bar once in a while. I can wear very "Oxford" clothes, or the most casual fat pants and hooded sweatshirts. I don’t hate you either Listen to old songs from the 1960s.So why don't you try to enter my modern age, my network, and my world?Why don't you take some time to think about "dressing up" and buy some expensive and nice clothes to wear?Why don't you occasionally go to a bar you'd never go to, and listen to music you've never heard?Are you too old to accept new things?Or are you fixed, and worse, you don't even know you're fixed?

Andre