Objectively speaking, I also like watching Taikooli when it was just built. After all, architecture is always the latest and the oldest. It is easy to understand this truth by taking people as an example-flowers are called when you are young, people are called when you are old, and the rest can only be called Zhang and Li.
Taikooli is a village-it didn't exist 20 years ago, and I don't know what it will be like 20 years later. It is sandwiched between the Millennium Temple and Fan Hua Commercial Street, and also between the past and the future, like being veiled, which makes people unable to see clearly.
When it is difficult to define something, we usually use a word called "the product of the times", so Taikooli is not only a Li, but also the product of an era-the era is its mother. Unfortunately, we can't know who our father is and who moved the times.
Bypassing Taikooli, there is a place behind it called Tianxian Bridge. There used to be a stone pier bridge, but I don't remember if it still exists. Further inside, there is a tea porridge alley-not because there is delicious food in the alley, but because there was a tea porridge temple earlier.
Although smaller temples can also be called temples, I am sure that a group of nuns lived here a hundred years ago. No one will name his place "Zhou Ming"-it is so subtle that even a bald man should be ashamed. In fact, if there are a group of old people living here, I'm afraid Mingzhou Temple should be called "Vegetable Leaf Porridge Temple".
The ancients liked to give nicknames to all kinds of things, such as calling Paeonia lactiflora "Yuke", comparing the moon to "mysterious candle" and "tea porridge" to put it bluntly, it is vegetable leaf porridge.
So we can draw the following conclusion: One hundred years ago, there lived a group of shriveled old nuns and young nuns who drank porridge. They sat on the dry futon, caught up with some people and finally disappeared in time. If I describe it like this, the story will be too lonely.
And if there is still a Ren Rui living in Mingzhou Lane, then maybe he should remember that before the last wall of Mingzhou Temple collapsed, it was painted with the story of the seven fairies and Yong Dong-it was a genius idea to draw a story about love on the wall of a nun. Although this unknown genius has already disappeared in the loess, I am still happy to praise him again.
As you can imagine, in the past summer under the rule of the emperor, when the sun was shining on the flagstone road full of weeds, Parthenocissus tricuspidata hung down from the wall, which cast a hazy beauty on both the Seven Fairies and Dong Yong. The nuns must have hung their heads when they went in and out of the temple gate, for fear of contaminating their eyes. But I can't help going under that wall-for whatever reason.
According to the investigation in Chengdu, Ann may have existed for more than 300 years. However, it should be noted that when there is no painting on the wall, Mingzhou Temple is just a building as shriveled as an old nun's breasts. It was not until one day that a genius made a big fight on this breast and drew a fictional story that the whole building finally became a reality-even though it no longer existed.
Back to Taikooli
In fact, architecture, like people, should have some other meanings besides being a large piece of material. This meaning can be positive or not so positive. Taikooli may be a strong chest of 20 14. It is novel and beautiful, but in my opinion, it is old now. Therefore, I hope that before it is completely old, I have the opportunity to pull it out of the shackles of time-this is the premise of the immortality of architecture. Of course, I may not hope so.
After all, it's best to let nature take its course, just like night falls and day falls.