Tara Min Wai - Me and the Toy City

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The people in front of me are all busy,

On the same path I will take.

They are flowing freely.

The era is fast.

"There's a noise up ahead, what's that sound?" is no longer the case.

The era of getting up and looking for yourself.

We are in an era where if there is anything to criticize, we criticize ourselves.

I also continued walking.

He pushed his way into the crowd, right in front of them.

What's up...

It's actually a painting and sculpture exhibition.

Very high-quality craftsmanship.

That's why people are watching so intently.

People are crowding in front of a sculpture.

There are also people who used to be confused about whether a sculpture meant small flowers or small statues.

Let me... I joined them in admiring the beautifully crafted sculpture.

The name of the sculpture is

Socrates...

One by one, the voices of criticism echoed in front of the sculpture.

"Socrates was a great Greek philosopher, wasn't he?"

"Yes...

"He drank the poisoned cup for the truth."

"Aw.. well, the poison seems pretty strong - well...."

"All at once, the human form disappeared and this huge form took shape."

"That" won't happen anymore....... I had to leave that day.

In another place, I found a painting called "Evening in Venice."

It's a very attractive painting.

The person looking down seemed to be oblivious to the entire surroundings.

I used to watch it the same way when I was young.

What I see is hell.

What kind of person is he?

Unable to sit still, I started talking.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

He answered without turning to look at me.

The answer is also very rough.

"Looking down"

"What are you looking at down there?"

"Looking at the water"

"What are you looking at in the water?"

"I'm looking at my own reflection in the water"

"Yes, what are you looking at yourself for?"

There was no response. There was silence on his side.

A person is someone who can look back at themselves,

Isn't it very important to be able to reflect on yourself?

Now the man in the painting is looking back at himself.

I respect you.

Only he knows best what he sees.

I can't wait for his answer anymore.

I turned around and left.

There aren't many people in front of another painting.

The father is carrying the child. I don't know where it's going.......

I am curious.

"Is that your child you're holding?"

"Yes"

I just asked him.

He hesitated, confused, and then answered.

I wanted to laugh.

"Holding a child like this in your arms will make you experience the fullness of a father's life."

"Well.....yes, I feel it."

He replied bluntly and boldly.

And... he continued speaking thoughtfully.

"Not only can you fully experience the life of a father, but you can also fully experience the life of a son."

"I feel it again."

"Why would..."

"Aw...when I was little, my father would carry me like this."

I wish I had been like this in my father's arms.

"While thinking, something happened in my mind."

"That's good."

I was impressed.

I've never thought like him. I don't have any children myself...

Leave it.....

I remember my father.