Continuously

France, Z City, the weather is fine.

On the past May 5st, a few lilies of the valley were left at the lover's table, and the sweetness rolled over the short fence and kneaded into the red windmill.The print on the kiosks lined up the truth now, the dark circles in the bars all night defecate in the street, the dance music breaks.

The elevator door opened silently, and the samples of the album were read pleasantly in both hands. After passing through two password doors in succession, a squirrel jumped over his toes with a snow grass in its mouth. The eyes on the album were not disturbed, reflecting the colors flat light.

Community manager Pascal was sorting out this morning's letters, when the heavy sound of the scroll-bound book closing behind him sounded, he turned his head and said to the visitor: "Yao, there is no letter from you today."

"I know." Yao Jianqi put the album on the window sill, "But there must have been yesterday."

Pascal's curly hair shook, and a friendly smile was imprinted on his wrinkled face. He picked up the two postmarked envelopes he had prepared in advance, and handed them to him through the half-open window, before the other party reached out to accept them. At that time, the old man flinched mischievously.

"Pascal." Yao Jianqi repeated his name gently.

"I know, I know." Pascal smiled and handed over the letter. He liked to tease this handsome man, although he never succeeded.

Yao Jianqi borrowed the letter opener on the table and cut the opening of the first envelope. The contents inside were very small, so he poured it out. He took a look at it and poured it into the envelope, a brooch.

The other is an invitation to a private gallery, with a small creative balloon glued inside the folded card.The date on the wood pulp paper is just 9 days later, which makes Yao Jianqi not sure whether he will be able to attend. He has been very busy recently, the new housing insurance clauses are still being finalized, and the final exam of a history theory is imminent—the final stage of the first research phase An exam, of course, and an exhibition about the school's 140th anniversary, of which he is part of the curatorial team, is about to open.

He didn't arrive early today. There was an explosion on Line 7 last week, and the entire subway line stopped running. He could only walk all the way. Later, he saw a private car on the way on his mobile phone, which made him walk for a while.

Someone has already adjusted the automatic counting device in the entrance area. Yao Jianqi greeted them and entered the exhibition hall. His mentor Roman was placing the block model of the work on the sketch. After hearing the footsteps and apologizing, he pointed to the espresso at the corner of the table. Say, "Don't worry, you won't be the last to be late."

Yao Jianqi took a sip of coffee, and the taste of low-fat milk filled his mouth. It is Roman's leadership style to treat the team well. This can be understood from Yao Jianqi's first refresher class under his guidance. Days stay up late, but Roman offers all takeout.

"I've already seen the album sample, and the cover material has been changed to pockmarked surface and protective layer according to what we said." Yao Jianqi said, "Tomorrow will be the first part of the official printing."

"Very good, I will print it later depending on the situation." Roman then tapped on the 1:100 sketch, placed several models of the exhibition on it, and asked him, "How?"

Yao Jianqi put down his coffee, thought for a while, and took the two models away.

"The work you took away is not simple." Roman looked at him with a smile.

Yao Jianqi walked around to the other end of the long table, and took a stack of bound papers. The uniformly arranged tables recorded the themes and exhibitions on each wall, which was equivalent to a script.

"The exhibition line is not long enough." He opened it to Roman and explained, "There are still three-dimensional works here. If the walls are too densely placed, it will not be very comfortable. I advocate the necessary abandonment, and of course some people disagree."

Roman focused, thought for a while and asked, "Who disagrees?"

"I count one."

In the exhibition hall with excellent sound insulation conditions, there was the sound of leather shoes on the floor paint, and the sound of bell tongues knocking, as if it was a special response to this sentence.

Roman's expression fluttered and stretched under his crisp voice, and he said, "The last person is here."

The visitor's palm-colored hair was tied in a small knot at the back of his head, and his jaw was jumping with his leaping steps. When he landed, he grabbed Yao Jianqi's shoulder and said, "You always sing against me."

Yao Jianqi rubbed his scalp, not used to it: "It's just a discussion."

"Really?" He changed the subject in the next shot, "Then you smell it, what perfume did I wear today?"

"It's the same as yesterday." Yao Jianqi held a piece of light cardboard as an exhibition wall between his fingertips and pushed it away from his throat inch by inch, "You're sleeping out."

"As if you miss me very much." The man licked his lips, his pink skin glowing faintly under the sweater.

At this time, Roman finally couldn't help but said: "Da Ling, don't speak Chinese, I won't be ashamed for you."

The man named Da Ling raised his head and laughed loudly, took a sip of the coffee Yao Jianqi put aside, and said, "Professor, you're joking, we can't be more innocent."

"I hope." Roman ended the topic in an open tone, "Then we might as well go back to just now and talk about why you disagree?"

"No problem." After sipping the coffee, Da Ling leaned over and glanced at Yao Jianqi on the beautiful model, "This cup belongs to me."

Yao Jianqi didn't say a word, threw away the lightweight paper, and got into work.

"What you throw away are all attractive things, even if it's for the sake of the overall situation."

In the lofty storage room, across a shelf lined with exhibits, Da Ling's voice came through the bulky wooden cargo boxes.

"Ask yourself, what if it is denser, I would rather it be airtight, otherwise the emptiness will cease to exist, and it will be vivid when compared with enough displays. This is the use of consciousness."

"Unfortunately, no matter how many winks I wink, the old fox will always agree with your plan."

"He definitely hopes that you can study m2 in this school. By the way, have you applied or not?"

As he expected, he didn't hear a response, so Da Ling quickly walked through the fence and stopped behind Yao Jianqi, who was looking at the hygrometer on the wall.

"37 percent." Yao Jianqi only reported a number, "Not ideal."

"It's like this before the rainy season, and it's so sunny." Da Ling held the foam backing board, half-drawn out a painting, glanced at it uninterestedly, and continued his rhetoric, "The work of a curator is never pure. It is tiring enough to accompany Roman to deal with various artists, but also to go back and forth between them and investors, which is exhausting."

Yao Jianqi turned around and asked quietly, "Can't you put it back?"

Da Ling ignored his advice and tapped his knuckles at the corners of the painting: "If you stay, you will always have to seek the pitiful balance of interests in money, academics, and even friendships, and the gaps in self-expression Well, very little."

"Indulgence is the premise, followed by self-defense and refusal to repeat. Talking about governance issues from the commanding heights can only make you make a voiceover and treat the exhibition as a fun." Yao Jianqi folded his arms and finally said, "Da Ling, put it back."

"You make me feel like a sexually disabled person, at least in an art museum." Da Ling pushed the painting back with two fingers, "Hey, what are you afraid of, I'm not like you, I will easily destroy a work. "

Yao Jianqi fixed his eyes on the acid-free transparent film, covered with a black and white woodcut, he remembered a certain painting.

"Do you still want to see it?" Da Ling said with his gaze, "I printed it quietly before you destroyed it."

Yao Jianqi frowned, as if remembering the sleeplessness at that time, he said, "I don't want to."

"Duplicity." Da Ling laughed crisply a few times without any contradiction, "Let me think about what you are painting. First of all, it is a person, a..."

"How was the party yesterday?" Yao Jianqi asked.

Da Ling's words fell into the air, and she changed into a smile: "Do you know that the way you cut off the topic is very blunt."

Yao Jianqi nodded, and said almost calmly, "Don't mind."

"I don't mind." Da Ling walked to the middle of the aisle, stopped in front of him, first leaned over, Yao Jianqi didn't move, then he turned around again, his upper body straightened, his calves kicked among the numerous artworks, heels Staggered and issued a sharp string.

Yao Jianqi always adhered to the quality of an audience, until the end of the song "Celtic Legend", Da Ling was sweating profusely: "That's it, we danced and tapped, Irish style!"

"It should be just what you want." Yao Jianqi said this because Daling's grandmother was from Dublin, which can be vaguely discerned from his pupil color and nose.

"Just pleasure, no nostalgia." Da Ling could see that he was having a good time, and he was still moving when he spoke, "There is a nice man who asked me to dance in the old-fashioned way, with a blue iris in his mouth."

"Later?" Yao Jianqi's phone vibrated a few times in his trouser pocket, and he took it out when he asked.

"He's too stubborn, he agrees with me, when he heard me say no to the next one, he—" Da Ling made a gesture of castration, "the next few have no appetite."

Yao Jianqi nodded slightly to indicate that he heard it, and immediately opened a voice message. The voice was not too loud, but Daling couldn't hear it clearly, it seemed to be dialect with a little accent.

"You really should come." Da Ling said unaffected.

"I don't dance." Yao Jianqi responded, but his attention was already on the screen.

"How about a knight without being a dance partner?" Da Ling peered at his expression without blinking.

Yao Jianqi clicked on the video invitation, and amidst the long ringing of the bell inside the concrete wall, his eyes gradually became restrained with each monotonous repetition.

Da Ling seemed to ask casually: "Who?"

"Grandma." Yao Jianqi pinched the screen.

Da Ling walked around to Yao Jianqi in a few steps, and asked with the expression of facing a cup of dessert, "Do you mind if I watch?"

Before Yao Jianqi's approval, the line that had been put on hold for too long was connected first. At that moment, his expression was covered by his forehead hair, and Da Ling felt very sorry.

During the 10-minute conversation, Da Ling could only understand a few words from the other party, and besides Yao Jianqi's grandma, he didn't see anyone else on the screen.

He pushed the double-sided storage rack boredly, and the wheels smoothed on the ground for a week and a half.

When the words stopped, Da Ling heard the wind sound when the paintings were fanned, and he almost sighed, then he turned around and saw Yao Jianqi standing there, silent, covered with poetic shadows.

The author says:

▇▇50%。m2:研究生2年级。参考资料：1.《展览实践手册：从a到z》2.许传宏策展人的角色与定位探究