一座城市的体温或许是那个城市的人用手焐热的。那些年的城市,火柴盒子一样矮墩墩的楼房面饼似的摊在城市的地盘上。城市的天际线远没有今天这么高,天际线上,晨昏之间有老手艺人们诚实的贴近大地的艰辛谋生的身影。那是一群快要消失的民间老手艺人。我要趁早凝望一下那些渐行渐远的背影,用目光把他们投影 The body temperature of a city may be that city people hand-cranked. Those years of the city, the same matchbox boxy pie bread like building booths in the city’s site. The skyline of the city is far away from today’s high, with skyscrapers on the horizon and twilight, where honest craftsmen who live close to the earth are struggling to make a living. It is a group of folk artisans who are going to disappear. I want to stare as soon as possible glimpse of those distant back shadow, with their eyes to project them