|| Jungle

I walked on the streets of the museum district in DC, ran into a certain jungle, the Henri Rousseau: Jungles in Paris exhibition in the National Gallery of Art. This showcase celebrates the broad range of his work: landscapes of Paris and environs, biblical and ancient Greek characters, allegories, portraits, as well as the largest grouping ever assembled of his iconic jungle paintings. Rousseau's fantasy landscapes depicting a seductive and terrifying faraway world, reflect the fears and desires of a modern era.

Some claim that this painter of exotic locales are merely the fantasies of a city dweller, constructed from visits to the botanical gardens and the zoo, as well as book, magazine, and postcard reproductions of dangerous beasts from distant lands, by the way, there are quite a few original sources of journals and docs on display as well. I found all characters, in animals or human beings, have expressions that only the profound minds could detect. They look like comic books, but more than the certain laughters or curiosities that the onlookers could ever ascertain.

This summer has extreme heat, but there's something else more than I can bear. Intolerable, human tolls are raising high, Rocky leaving the eastern coast. I try not to be sentimental, but having nothing to occupy my mind for now, I can only sympathize. Shopping at 9pm in the chinese grocery store, music bringing sorrows to my eyes, I walked up and down the isles, very empty, very lost, very sad.