风吹过，树叶颤动，万物静默，无声中我心已死。儿子一般是上怀还是下怀

　　A man, that animal which shapes its environment, which also shapes its brain. A fog, a bit harder than the air – the dust of stones. A hexagonal structure, like a monolith of which one dare not ask questions. Two hundred kilometres from Beijing I found a sculpture factory where men lived amidst rocks that were waiting to be broken, cut, polished. The same gestures come back... (展开全部)