"Art is the collective intoxication of people in order to transcend vulgar materiality and low-level tastes, and pursue higher, more beautiful, and more permanent values. "The young man is really straight to the point.

The girl's eyebrows furrowed, and the phrase "collective intoxication" made her uncomfortable.

Painter Mo obviously thought the same thing, "No...... Ridiculous......"

He tried to argue, but he was unconvincing, and the young man continued: "Therefore, art is subjective and necessarily biased!

As a bystander, can you accuse the latter and say, 'Hey, you're not right, art is something to love with your life'?

There is such an example, the empire has been divided into feudal domains and expanded its territory for generations, and there are many records of the birth of natives. There are huge and even established countries of their own, with their own history and writing, as well as their art.

Three hundred years ago, there was an indigenous kingdom, and the most sacred art in the country was fur, and it was even believed that it could be borrowed for eternity.

The so-called fur is to use a secret method to peel off the human skin without damage, add special tanning, and then fill it with herbs, which can be immortal for thousands of years.

This is a kind of great love, so that the other party will always be with you in the most beautiful state. They strive for perfection in fur, and when the skin is peeled off when the person is alive and awake, they will let the loved one complete this step in the most conscious state.

When they see their lover struggling in pain, they may also clasp each other's hands sadly and comfort, 'Honey, bear with me, we will be together forever'.

When the empire conquered this unrighteous country, it was found that there were three furs in the sleeping chamber of the last king, one was a woman in her forties, and it was his mother, who helped him a lot to ascend to the throne, and he loved her deeply;

There was also a woman full of natural beauty in the mountains and fields, and a little boy of five or six years old, whom he met on his first tour of the country, and whom he met in a certain mountain forest for the first time, who married her queen at the grandest wedding and gave birth to his most beloved son.

He loved them so much that he couldn't help but make them all into furs and be with them forever.

There is a proverb in that kingdom that says, 'If you love her, make her fur.'" ”

The young man spoke about the horror movie in a calm tone, and the Mo painter was silent, and the girl who eavesdropped was creepy.

She had heard of this indigenous kingdom before, and it had been described as dark and evil, and she had never known it as deeply as she did today.

She only felt a cool breath rush from the soles of her feet, and her whole body was numb. Is this also love?

The girl suddenly felt that the young man was very underbeaten, and he still said in a very underwhelming voice:

"The historian who accompanied him at that time gave a very detailed introduction to the furs, which were indeed thrillingly beautiful and as beautiful as a dream. After all, people are mortals as long as they live, and beauties still have to and pee and snot ......"

The girl suddenly wants to hit someone!

Looking at the little kid who was pretending to be forced, she had the idea of solving the problem by force for the first time.

"There are times when mortals are not in a state, but fur is always perfect, and it is really art.

Master Mo, I heard that you have a very beautiful daughter, have you ever thought about making her perfect all the time?"

"Bastard!" shouted Painter Mo.

The expression was horrified and angry, like being burned on the tip of the heart by a red-hot soldering iron.

It is unforgivable to have any connection between his daughter and fur, but what makes him tremble is that his cute daughter turned into fur really appeared in his mind, which made him panic!

He decided to quickly drive away the terrifying thoughts, and said, "Those barbarians know a fart, this is also worthy of art? What the hell do you want to say!"

The young man said: "I want to give an example to emphasize the concept that art is not a cycle of life and death, which is a constant law of truth at any time and place.

It is full of uncertainty, and it will change with different people, different times, different perceptions, etc.!

Art may be great, but it is only an accessory of man, and it is valuable only when man appreciates it, and when man no longer appreciates it, it is worthless.

A hundred years ago, people thought it was a treasure, it was a treasure, and if people think it was dog shit, it is now dog shit, worthless.

And what you are doing now is to forcibly reverse people's cognition and force that shit is a treasure, I don't think this is realistic, even Qin Xiangye can't do this kind of thing. ”

The girl was fascinated by the eavesdropping and couldn't help but take a few steps closer.

She had a sense of abruptness in her heart, but she was also a little disappointed with a little bit of literacy in her bones, she used to think that art had a transcendent nobility, and after listening to the young man's words, she felt that the grade had been lowered a lot.

And it was Mo Danqing who was really hit.

All along, he felt that his skills in painting ladies were good, much stronger than the previous grandmasters of the family, even compared with the ancestor Mo Daozi, he had the idea of "I will do what he will, and I will not do what he can".

After all, hundreds of years have passed, and too many new techniques have been born...... But why did you get mixed up like this?

I couldn't figure it out, so he even began to doubt himself, perhaps, my ability is not as high as I thought, I think I am better than my ancestors is just an illusion, the truth is - I am a straw bag.

Just like the few laborers on the side of the road outside the door, they are just coolies who listen to people's calls and scolding, but they often point out the country, Qin Xiangye is a straw bag when he opens his mouth, and General Chi is a pusbag when he closes his mouth......

But I'm not reconciled, and I'm not willing to die!

So he held on to opening this studio, not only to revive the genre of Gongbi ladies' painting.

Now the young man broke through the estrangement that had plagued him for decades, he just sat in a daze, new and old, and he was so sad that he couldn't help himself.

No chance, no chance.

It doesn't matter if I have the ability or if I don't have the ability and feel capable.

The ladies of the Gongbi have already been thrown away by the people of the world, and they still pick them up and press their heads to let them appreciate them, which is a brainless fool's business!

The more Mo Danqing thought about it, the more he doubted life, feeling that life was dark, boring, hopeless, and dreamless, so he simply died......

He first called "ho ho ho", as if he was lost in phlegm, and then cried out with a "wow".

The dream is shattered, the road ahead is broken, and people are middle-aged, but they are stubborn and manly...... Painter Mo cried so much that his liver and intestines were broken.

The little girl with a small bun face looked at the girl suspiciously, as if asking, "Sister, what is the uncle crying about, so sad", the girl shook her head and motioned for her not to speak...... Ahem, I want to continue eavesdropping.

Then, she screamed in her heart, she really wanted to hit someone!

The young man with his back to him, at this time, made some kind of strange gesture behind his back with his hands behind his back, Mo Danqing couldn't see it, but she saw it really.

Although she didn't understand the meaning of the gesture, she was smart enough to see the essence directly, and she saw the young man's triumphant, scheming, and secretly celebrating his heart.

Well, Zhang Qiming is gesturing with both hands in a victory pose.

For the mountain, only one step short, victory is ahead, don't you want people to celebrate......

Painter Mo cried in pain, cried until he was tired, and cried until his tears were dry......

The young man said fakely: "Master Mo, why are you so sad, there is still a lot of hope for your future!"

Mo Danqing choked up and said:

"What hope is there, don't you say, the lady's painting is now a shit thing in people's hearts, even if I really paint well, what's the point?

Art, when it is no longer understood and recognized, is it still art? Is it still valuable? Lao Mo was confused.

"Master Mo misunderstood, in my mind, kitsch is not a derogatory term.

Because art changes with people's hearts, as an artist, it is the right way to follow the changes of people's hearts, and if you stick to the old concepts of the past and detach yourself from people's hearts, art is just a plaything for a small group of people to entertain themselves.

For example, literature, a thousand years ago, great literary works were poetry and prose, and drama and fiction were all things that were not on the stage and were the stuff of the Riba people, but now, on the contrary, the latter is authentic, and who still admits that those who play ancient poetry have become a game of self-amusement. Only those with a broad audience base and vitality can be regarded as real art!

What you say about kitsch is just an old antique that is destined to be ruthlessly eliminated by history!"

Painter Mo didn't know what this had to do with him, but he also felt that it made sense, and nodded.

He just sat on the ground like this, crying and crying anyway, and losing his face, what was there to be embarrassed about.

He just looked up at the young man, as if urging: "Say something more, say something more." ”

He was like a desperate man who had fallen into the abyss, and suddenly saw a rope fall from the sky.

He watched hopefully, and if the rope came down a little bit and was within reach, he would jump up and hold on to it without thinking.