只剩下一些凋零的记忆，随风飘落成一地的斑驳，往昔繁华，以转变成一生落寞。
Only a few withered memory, falling into a mottled, bustling past, to convert into a lonely life.
这个寂寞的午后，我把心事翻出来晾晒，却发现记忆中到处写满你的影子，斑斑驳驳。
This lonesome afternoon, I turn over out worry to sun, but discover to write full your shadow everywhere in the memory, the spot is motley to refute.
回忆那些斑驳荒凉的记忆。
她与记忆中的形象对话，与画面空间中无数个稍纵即逝的起伏与沉积对话，与画幅表层斑驳的肌理对话。
She talks with the images in her memory, with the countless transient waves of rising and sediment, and with the mottled lines in her paintings.
此刻的巴黎正值深秋，城市的色泽在光影中飘忽，历史的风尚斑驳着神奇的城市记忆。
Now Paris is in its late autumn, the colors of the city was moving swiftly in the lights and shadows, the fashion of the history mottled miraculous city memories.
此刻的巴黎正值深秋，城市的色泽在光影中飘忽，历史的风尚斑驳着神奇的城市记忆。
Now Paris is in its late autumn, the colors of the city was moving swiftly in the lights and shadows, the fashion of the history mottled miraculous city memories.
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