The Most Wonderful Moment

 

Wearing new tailor-made puffy sleeved dress and a pair of flip-flops, is said to be the most stylish mix-and-match trend.

Never aging, the time we walked past is the most beautiful retro.

Gazing at you, I see the mild flame deeply hidden behind your loving eyes and intriguing smile. I am reminded of my first love, a scene in mist. You are the very first grace of my life, my everlasting love.

But why does bitterness suddenly flood into my heart?

In unknown places with no connection between one another, we envision our respective lives from now on. Like in parallel worlds, we are unable to acknowledge the existence of one another.

I can only summon the past as I return to it.

Perhaps I will feel like a survivor when knowing there are people or things that never change.

At this moment, I can gaze at you.

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Collection of the National Center of Photography and Images

The Melancholy of Wait

 

Thin eyebrows raised, fingers interlocked, you hold happiness tightly. It is a gesture of waiting, like an aloof wolf sneaking with the softness of a cat. The expressions of these two creatures are mixed on your delicate but saddened face.

Sitting and leaning against a gigantic tree, each branch of the tree unfolds and becomes a stream of longing. I am with you, although you eventually will rise to your feet and be ready for further drifting.

You are not a wanderer and are not obliged to look back. But is waiting the only thing a woman can do?

Thus you, in a crawling position, imagine a profile wishing to turn around and expect a reunion after a long separation. Nevertheless, you are worried that the lost connection will not be restored even if the reunion comes true.

After all, at that time you were a youth pretending to be more sophisticated than you were. Your sorrow was like falling leaves. Your love rustled. It was like Alice in wonderland who climbed out from the mysterious hollow of a life tree.

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Courtesy of Lee Dao-Chen

Aging Together

 

Back in the small town, the glow of the sun spreads over the lake, inscribing beautiful sentences about youth.

Like women given birth by water, they are in charming qipaos showing their body curves and their bright smiles are comparable to blossoming flowers. Sunlight emitting fragrance and shining upon their tender hearts, these two lovely women set out together to pursue their dreams.

Reminiscent of the serpentine spirits embodied in the forms of women in the fairy tale, they were waiting for their beloved to come across their path, transforming the lake water into their longing that streams through ages.

In silence, the sound of time is heard. It is the rustling of love.

Perhaps the sisterhood between them are not related in blood.

Their care for one another overflows and bonds them to spend their lives together.

Shone by the sun, the glistening ripples on the surface of the lake absorb time.

The gorgeousness of high summer in the bustling town reminds people of the two women’s lives and beautiful love for each other.

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Courtesy of Lee Dao-Chen

Celestial Beauty

 

You are one another’s forever concern; in a glance, your stories shattered into pieces. The glow in your eyes betrays your deep affection and innocence. Gods are engaged to ensure your brilliance; you are blessed to have pleasure in each other’s earnestness.

You are the beloved daughters of gods, adored children of Buddhas.

Your beauty is the flowers of hopefulness, a crown adorning this indifferent world, and the light in my dreams.

Your delicate hairstyles, apparels, and the small round hand purse, create an ambiance of a school for girls. Your feminine power is the root that supports lives. The thriving branches and leaves let us know we must embrace life with passion.

Memories weave the details of youth.

In the strong flavors from the apricot, a refreshing rose fragrance wafts from these framed people. It was your sweetness and sorrow. The paths of a maze are hidden in the pleats of your skirts. I see you and you behind the past time. I miss your missing thoughts of me. They are like the breeze in spring.

My empathy for your fragile youth is like glistening stars reflected by the sea, a sea of young women’s endless hopes.

The flame of life is burning. One wishes to stretch out the wings and fly into the expansiveness of the sky.

The future to be written down is a blossoming flower with celestial beauty.

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 Courtesy of the Summergate Phototimes