Renly returned to the bar, Neil noticed the little disturbance just now, and asked with concern, "Is there something wrong?"
"The artist's fault," Renly said nonchalantly, waving a hand.
This made Neil chuckle lowly, and said jokingly, "That's the same kind of person as you."
Renly looked at Neil calmly, without any intention of denying it, Neil could only sneer helplessly.
As the favorite gathering place for artists on the East Coast and even in North America, New York—especially the lower/downtown area has gathered a large number of artists with eccentric personalities. Almost every artist has his own quirks that are out of tune with the mainstream of society. The Pioneer Village is one of the artists' favorite places, and Renly and Neil are no strangers to dealing with oddities almost every day.
"Where's George?" Renly turned to look, only to find that George was gone.
"Stanley is here." Neil pointed to the other direction of the bar, Renly turned around, and then saw Stanley and George sitting in the booth, George was saying something gruffly, Stan The expression on Li's face gradually became brighter, and the brows were filled with joy and happiness.
Turning around, Renly saw the big smile on Neil's face, raised his eyebrows deliberately, and gave Renly two winks. It seemed that he also heard the news from George.
However, Renly restrained his smile, and his eyebrows became indifferent, which made Neil's eyebrows/eyes/biography/feelings lost, and he couldn't help beating the table with the rag in his hand in protest.
But obviously, this set is useless to Renly. Seeing Renly's indifferent and contented appearance, Neil is very sad. However, Neil also knew that Renly was a man of his word, and as long as he made a promise, he would fulfill it. Thinking of this, Neil was happy again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the front left, and Neil moved slightly closer to Renly, and said in a low voice, "They're here again."
Renly turned his head, and then saw the old tramp with his beer, and walked over in a hurry, while the other two were still sitting in the booth.
The old tramp took a place next to Renly, sat down, and gestured to Neil, "Give this lad a bottle."
Neil glanced at Renly, then opened a bottle of beer and placed it in front of Renly.
"The two old friends were a little rude just now, sorry." The old tramp pointed the beer bottle in his hand at Renly, with a slight smile on the corner of his mouth. Without too much explanation, let alone sly defense, his frank and straightforward appearance expressed enough sincerity, and most importantly, his eyes were always sincere and focused on Renly.
Renly picked up the beer in front of him, gestured, and took a swig. That's even accepting an apology. However, he didn't say much, the cold and alienated temperament cooled down the air that had not had time to warm up again.
But the old tramp didn't care, and said to himself, "It's a really good place, even in New York, there are not many bars like this anymore. I really liked this unique kind of bar when I was in London. A small bar, occasionally having a drink, chatting with familiar and unfamiliar people, a good waste of time."
"America is a fast-paced country," Renly responded with a shrug and a chuckle.
The old tramp nodded earnestly, "But sometimes, we need to slow down." After saying this, he paused for a moment, as if savoring something, and then took another sip of beer, "Listen. Say, there is a show here tonight?"
"Yes." Renly guessed that the old tramp and the old artist were friends with Woody, and Woody brought them here to watch the show and enjoy a different night. "Even for those who don't like live singing, Would love the vibe too. London doesn't compare to it."
"Oh, this made my expectations go up again." The old tramp's voice was low and hoarse, and when he was joking, it was like a bass drum, and he always felt that the joke was not right. "I heard that you occasionally perform here?"
"Occasionally." Renly nodded, admitted frankly, and then emphasized, "Only occasionally."
The corners of the old tramp's mouth lifted up, and he could hear the deep meaning of the second half of Renly's sentence - obviously, Renly has no plans to perform tonight. Same? I mean, the stage here. What's that like?"
Renly turned his head and followed the old tramp's line of sight to the stage.
The stage of Pioneer Village is not very big. Strictly speaking, it is just a small stage with only one level of steps, and the viewing angle is almost parallel to that of the customer. location.
"What does it feel like to isolate yourself from the world?" Renly teased half-jokingly, "but at the same time connecting yourself to another world."
"Sword Comes"
At this time, the stage did not light up, it was just pitch-dark, but the thoughts began to spread in the dimness. Renly retracted his gaze and took another sip of beer. The cold liquid slid down his throat and regained his senses. Come over, "We all need something to separate ourselves from the complex reality and give ourselves a little time to get along with ourselves. Some people choose alcohol, some people choose drugs/drugs."
"You chose the music." The old tramp also looked away and turned to look at Renly.
"It's one kind of thing." Renly nodded affirmatively. "When I need to think, I choose music; when I don't need to think, I choose surfing or rock climbing." Then he shrugged, "Or, who knows? Alcohol also looks like a good option."
This light banter made the old homeless laugh sullenly, but after the smile faded away, he stared intently at Renly, "What are you thinking about?"
"Ha." Renly chuckled. "Anything you want to think about, even the things you say will lead to arrest or even jail time." Those sarcastic remarks were not offensive at all, but rather Kind of black humor.
The old tramp nodded in affirmation, and pondered what Renly had just said.
Purely from the outside, Renly is a graceful gentleman, refined, restrained, calm, wise, occasionally revealing edge, more often hidden; Moonlight-like, cold, tenacious, clear, lonely, entwined between the lines.
"Or, think about the source of those problems in life, think about..." The old tramp's voice gradually became lower, so deep that it almost disappeared. Renly couldn't help turning his head away, a little surprised. "Consider whether there is a way to solve this problem, and then... let's get rid of... the misery of all beings."
The words of the old tramp are so deep, but the emotions hidden in them are so fragile, as if they will be broken with a single touch, and even the atmosphere can't help but become solemn.
"What did you choose?" Renly asked abruptly. He didn't know what the old tramp went through. Everyone has their own story, but he knew that some hurts could not be healed.
The old tramp understood at once, "Writing. I chose to write. Although I'm a terrible writer, words have a magical power for me."
Renly nodded in approval.
He loves words, although it's not his strongest suit. When he was in college in the last life, he studied journalism. He was very good at dealing with words, but his strengths were in the reporting of objective facts, as well as the way of thinking in interviews and debates. As for music creation, that's another story.
But as the old tramp said, writing is a wonderful thing. It is just a combination of simple and unpretentious words, but it can construct a whole magnificent world in the mind. The most interesting thing is that the same text, under different people, different life stages, and different social situations, feels different when reading it.
"It's like Allan-Poe." The old tramp twitched the corners of his mouth, trying to smile, but failed and slumped, "there's something magical about his words, those The Gothic world constructed by metaphors, symbols and images, dark and romantic, has never been a simple text."
Renly's fingers caressed the beer bottle in his palm, his thoughts following the old tramp's words, lost in thought.
"On a long, dull, grey, silent day in the autumn, with heavy clouds hanging low in the sky, I rode alone on horseback through this gloomy, exotic country, and finally , When night fell slowly, the cold scenery of Usher's House unfolded before my eyes."
This is the opening chapter of Edgar Allan Poe's most classic Gothic novel "The Fall of Usher's House". Chinese/Chinese Lin/Yu/Tang, Lu/Xun, etc.
Ellen's choice of words and artistic images have reached the pinnacle in this work. In European literary studies, many people have even listed them as literature comparable to Shakespeare.
Just like the ancient poem "Ancient vines, old trees, dim crows, small bridges and flowing water, people, ancient roads with west wind and thin horses, the sun sets in the west, and heartbroken people are in the horizon", in the stories written by Ellen, the dark, permeable A bloody, impotent scene was outlined. This opening chapter describes an abandoned castle, the Usher House, but in the eyes of the world, it outlines the desolate, miserable and lonely scene of society in the early nineteenth century.
"I had never seen it in the past, but just by just a glimpse, a certain unbearable gloom permeated my heart. I looked at the sparse landscape around the mansion, the walls were barren, the decaying trees were all over the place. White, my soul is aphasia, my heart is cooling, sinking, morbidly weak."
Renly recited softly, this is why he likes words. Like music, it can reflect the temperature of the soul, true and wonderful.