After reading Vivian's works, I began to observe my life through her eyes. Those scenes of happiness or sadness seem to have become pictures of black and white square composition. In the past, those disputes that insisted on distinguishing right from wrong are more tender in the photos. The scene of arguing with my family, the scene of being reprimanded by the teacher, the scene of leaving my hometown on the train full of expectations for the future. . . Looking at the self-righteous me who was trapped in the small inner world in the "photo", I suddenly felt that it was really cute. Those confessions, those remorse, over the years, seem to be fading. I saw other people in the "photos" who were my closest relatives, and I never really felt their hearts and cared about them. In those finger-pointing scenes, everyone is trapped inside and struggling. And now it looks cute.
Suddenly I found that my life was a wonderful comedy, and my memories were summed up in Vivian-style black and white photos, without color, but full of sunshine.
Selfless and warm love can give us a renunciation and achieve the beauty of art that truly nourishes people's hearts.
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