The Spring Cannot Be Stolen

If you asked me how do you want to spend 2020 a few months ago, I would probably tell you about the cold soda on the Mediterranean beach, the steaming lawn, the swollen legs in the grand art summit in Venice, the young people smoking at the door of art galleries or a theory test that cannot be passed.

The spring seems to have been stolen in the world, accompanied by the collapse of countless people's expectations for the future at the end of 2019.

At the beginning of 2020, friends left due to the spread of the epidemic. All the exhibitions were cancelled, and the research plan was postponed indefinitely (the original research plan now seems a bit meaningless), coupled with desperation-there's no way to go back home. In a foreign, country people have to worry about the racial discrimination accompanying the epidemic. My life was collapsing at an extremely fast rate, so I want to find a way to resist the increasingly collapsing life.

So I started to open the google real scene to try to see the world at the time. In only one day, I visited the cold West Siberian Plain, Kagoshima's Sakurajima Peak, Myitkyina's Irrawaddy River and Sicily's beaches.

The spring was not stolen, it was just locked. Would you like to find the bear of the spring with me?