Charles River

Sep, 12

———7:00am home

A square of pale yellow light is falling on the ceiling

Almost hard to distinguish the boundaries

from weak yellow to the blue gray of extremely low saturation

Sketching the grainy texture

While the pipe draws a fuzzy shadow, too

 

———-7:30am Windsor St.

The sunny morning in the early autumn

So pure sky

Sink me into the endless blue

The clouds are like cottons thrown around

Here and there, leisurely, randomly

The trees have begun to express the color of the season

A little bit warm yellow, a little bit chocolate brown

At the very edge, a little bit orange

Bathing in the breeze, shining in the sun

 

———12:10pm Student Center

Clear sunshine falls onto the fresh green lawn

And the profile of the beautiful lady

A golden line clearly shines alone the side of her face

And the whole lawn is enjoying the peaceful leisure

 

———4:15pm Lobby 10

The vast national flag of the United States of America

Waving in the breeze and afternoon sun

Time suddenly flies

slowly

It becomes translucent

The white stripe

with yellow brown in the light and light steel blue in the shades

The red stripe at the top, where close to the sky

With violet red in the light and dark magenta in the shades

The red stripe at the bottom, where close to the lawn

with bright tomato red in the light and dark red in the shades

and the blue piece

with warm blue in the light and dark steel blue in the shades

I look into the sky through

the vague texture of the weaving

And wait for

the ceremonial of solemn to come

 

———-18:15pm Common Room

I look at the last piece of orange light

Falling onto the brick walls

Warm, yellow, pink, bright, gentle

and peaceful

the glasses of the windows are in plain dark cyan, mixed with a little purple

reflecting the blue sky

on the other side of the courtyard there are

a row of vague pieces of orange-purple lights

like watercolors

which are the reflections of the sunset

flying from the windows and then to the wall

 

———-21:00pm in the tunnel of subway

The old lights are shining on the ceiling of the tunnel

Leaving a gradient lighting surface

The halo is radiant

Yellow in the center

A little pink

And gets a little blue

With tiny shadow around, showing the age of the facilities

Then to light yellow vault again

The granular texture feels so comfortable

 

 

Sep, 13

———–8:00am home

I stare at the silk-like

Little light of mine

In the orange surrounded by

The shadow of purple gray

I think my eyes are getting decent

As the scene looks as elegant as a work of watercolor rather than

A handful of dirt

 

———8:45am Windsor St.

The sun shine pours

A giant piece of golden yarn

On top of the

Grainy asphalt in a purple gray

While in the Fareast

The flower of garbage is shining

 

———-12:05pm Common Room

I hold a glass of water in my left hand which

Turns into transparent

when I swig

a big bite of the clean water in the lovely warmth of sunshine

I stare at the leaves of the plant

Which become translucent in

 yellow, yellow green and lime green

In the dreamy atmosphere

in a color of gold

in a texture of metal

 

———-17:00pm Hayden Library

Again I sit

In the lowest nook of the room

And the tree, bathing in the soft sunshine of the warm late afternoon

Taking a nap in

Yellow green, lawn green, lime green

You name it

More orange on the top and

or, a little colder at the bottom

It is so warm and tranquil, right?

And I wonder

If it could have been held any longer

 

———–18:15pm Hayden Library

I still sit in the

Lowest nook of the room and

Look at the same tree which is

Turning into the color of impressionism while

The lightened part is in

Orange olive green and

The shaded part is in

Dark sea green or even

Deep steel blue

 

———-21:30pm Hayden Library

I look at the glass of the huge bay window

In which I can see clearly the reflections of the interior scene

Like a mirror

And the man sitting behind me

When I stare hardly

Into the almost-darkness I can distinguish the grass of the lawn

The shape of the tree, and the far street lights on the other side of Charles

And the ghost-like cars moving by

 

Sep, 14

———-11:30am Garden of Stata Center

I stare at Jim’s head

In the strong surreal sunlight

it is like a painting of Renoir

oh maybe I should not say that

but it is as delicate as a girl

without any strong lines or contrast

just the magic masterpiece

of the noon sunlight of Massachusetts

 

———-17:30pm 10-485

I stare at Anne’s face

In the noble light from the up

The up falls

A peaceful light and shadow

Onto her sculpture-like face

Classical like Ingres

Probably that is too elegant

Surreal like El Greco

Probably that is too strong

Or in between

actually it is more like Correggio

Yes it is like a painting of Correggio

 

Sep, 15

——– 4:00am home

Naturally I open my eyes,

Fiercely, a cold glaze

pierces into my eyes,

It makes me incapable to recognize the profiles of the surrounding

All are flattened

And succumbed into reticence

It was the mirror ruthlessly reflecting the yellow light outside,

waking me up

into endless darkness

 

———8:50am home

Naturally I open my eyes

The cold glaze has gone

It turns into fragments

floating in the royal blue sky

reminding me of the silver dishes of Louis XIV

too shiny and deceitful

I like the yellow wall below

 Quiet and humble

nurturing the soft green vines, around its bone

 

——— 10:00am Mass Ave

I am grateful that the trees block the offensive blaze of the sun

The leaves have a unique translucent orange-green color

sheltering me from the capricious

giving me warmth and happiness

let me dance with them

in the most joyful shadow patterns

We are almost natural and coherent

Can you see my pace?

 

—— 14:00pm Common Room

Imagine there is a sun amid the metal steels

behind the grainy gray concrete hill

The sky seems neither far, nor near

The air seems heavy, and not clear

The dishes lose their shine

and become blank sheets

covering the shadowless earth

Colors are honestly telling their own names

Gray

Gray

and gray

without ambiguity or bias

almost a boring day

 

————18:00pm Main St.

In the morning the leaves were translucent

In the sunset the leaves are opaque

Filling the blue

Hiding the purple

Conceiting the gold

Colors have been thrown into a weak golden swirl after a gust of wind

Showing a spectrum of lights

which secretly rejoice my eyes

with the instantaneous empathy

 

 

Sep, 16

———–8:30am in the bed

A sunny morning

The morning sun paints a trapezoidal of warm yellow on the wall

Vivid, shining the whole room

The wall background gradually changes its light and shadow

And then keeps falling onto the table

To the carpet

which is composed of grains of various colors

gray, medium purple, and brown

One light rectangular, so comfortable

Like a magic stippling painting

 

——-9:30am Mass Ave

The beauty of sunlight seems like the flash on the pan

Now it is cloudy again

On the windows there are the reflections of trees, clouds and sky

which is diluted from the real world

On my left, the leaves are olive green, clouds are white grey, and sky is blue

On my right in the windows, the leaves are browner, clouds are greyer, though the sky

is almost the same blue

 

————–12:00pm Hayden Library 2^nd floor

I am sitting in the tree

Surrounded by all kinds of green

The leaves seem translucent at the top

Bathing in a warm golden nostalgic atmosphere

Under the radiance of white sun rays

With the bright light cottons

Flowing slowly in the blue sky

And I feel the breeze

When the shadows are moving and shining silently

like ripples floating on the surface of water

in tranquility, and mystery

I wish if I could stay in this internal peace

And fall into deep deep meditation

For a long long time

 

———-17:00pm Mass Ave

The purple blue sky weaved with the white pieces of clouds

In a light yellow warm tone, while some shaded seem to be slight purple

Suspending, stretching, deformed

The edges of the clouds turn into slightly green

And a strip of pink purple orange

I feel

I see the airship coming from nowhere

flowing and spinning

as a surreal giant whale in the sky

in this strange world full of fear, unknown and farewells

 

———-18:40pm in the lounge room

The Charles is not peaceful any more

The strong waves weaving each other

Partly from the strong wind, partly from the reflections

Each wave changes from opaque dark sea green, to translucent light sea green

and to the white foaming spindrift

The closer area is clear with the weaving texture

And to the further, the surface looks smoother

 into a dark jade green

 

19:10pm in Menglin’s living room

Thousands of families began to light up their little dreams

Those orange spots make the buildings almost transparent

The night just arrived

in the screen of navy blue of the sky

The river now is in a solid green color

which is extremely dark

hiding the strong waves inside

 

Sep, 17

———-9:30am home

The sky is in pale blue

With big pieces of cotton-like clouds scattered around

They have wheat-white profiles

And violet-gray facades

Facing me

The clouds closer to the horizon

Are darker and thicker

While those floating more highly

Are immersed into the sunshine

 

———10:30am Beacon Street

The bricks are so beautiful

In a historic atmosphere

Very warm, in the strong sunlight

Everything has clear light and shadow

The details emerge with meanings

The cast-iron railings

with a lengthened shadow

like a dancer showing her elegant body curves in the sun

 

———13:00pm Rotch Library

It is a calm noon,

The sunshine of light-goldenrod-yellow flows through the almost invisible glass

And falls on the blinds silently

On each single piece the light changes

Diffusion, reflection, and shade

sequences at the joint where the shutter meets the translucent wooden bar

With strong shading contrast and reflection of the tiny structures of the window

All the pieces array

Forming a detailed pattern of light and shade

Through which

the vague sunlight glows behind the heavy clouds and on top of the trees

 

———-16:40pm home

The soft afternoon light falls

Onto the gray white wall of the manufacturing building

Creating a wheat yellow orange tone

With a purple iron gray shadowy triangle

The grandpa comes

Then followed by the grandson

Both melted into the sunlight

So bright

And gradually sublime

 

————-18:00pm Mass Ave

The sun blossoms with golden rays

Hanging low in the sky

A giant piece of splendid light

Bright and strong, but in an atmosphere of serenity

The long long rails reflect the golden light

Some parts are orange, and even red

next to the magnificence in the magic moment

the bunch of clouds in overcast

fall asleep, when they turn into

dark irony purple blue

 

————-20:20pm Mass Ave

I look into the

Deep blue deep blue deep blue sky

Behind the glares of the

Orange street lights

I am eager to see more

But no more layers, except for

The weak patterns of the blue gray clouds

My blue blood floods my brain again

 

Sep, 18

——–7:00am home

The morning sunshine drops a bright zigzag

Through the blinds, onto my wall

The zigzag is in thick wheat-white paint

Strong with clear boundaries

And underneath

There is a darker and shorter zigzag

In a color of lavender, texture of yarn

Thin and ambiguous

 

———-8:30am Main Street

I look up into

The cloudy chilly morning sky

The clouds are thick and solid

Making a crazy brush paint

In pale gold rod where the clouds are thinner

dark gray at the bottom

 and light steel blue

where the bottom meets the top

Underneath, the buildings are dark

with low contrast and slightly vague details

 

———-11:30am Providence State House

Too beautiful a scene

Blue sky, white clouds, green lawn, white neo-classical state house

Kids are laughing

Among thousands of American runners

The light is clear and transparent

In a slightly warm tone

It is still soft light though

When the clouds cover the sun

Leaving the lawn a plain lime green with details

 

———–14:00pm Providence Canal

The nymphs are swimming

In the water of a dreamy atmosphere

The columns of the highway

Now become Hellenistic ruins

Recording human beings crazy ambition

Of the 1960s

They drop reflections

Into the warm cozy afternoon water

The boundaries of the pillars are deformed, unsure, and changing

While the reflection of the block are fragmented

Into a bunch of tiny trembling white lights

 

——–18:00pm Providence State House

I stare at the decorated dome of the state house

Now in the soft magic atmosphere of the sunset

The left side in golden yellow, with brown shades

While the right side of the dome

Falls into a gray shade, bluer at the top, pinker at the bottom

At the interface where the gold meets the gray

It is orange, pink, with a little steel blue

 

————22:00pm Main St

The street light drops an orange tone

Onto the trunk and bottom crown of the tree

it has very low resolution

while the colors of the tree itself get lost

the trunk is in sienna brown

with a very dark gray shade

while the leaves in milk-chocolate brown

with a very dark gray shade

Does the true color of the object exist?

they change their faces so frequently