The white church

My mother always told me to listen to pure music symphony, said that the painter need literacy and connotation, but my heart is not static.

Remember the first time on Sunday to go to the concert, and imagination is different, don't want to dense shadow and the background is white church, just after the puppet show, music sounded, the noisy around the quiet, look to the sky on the grass, listen, the music before give me a sense of a fairy tale. Frolicking around, though many are elderly, children, but they have this kind of life let I envy. Here, only the music and the wind, quiet, let a person get drunk in it