Drifted Glamour
旧梦余香

“Glamour fades, grace endures.
光影流转，风华不减。”

oil on canvas
61x61cm

Hesitantly, she bows. There’s a smattering of applause, someone smiles, and people throng towards their next meal. Slowly, the audience dissipates into the night, while she gathers her skirts and steps gingerly off the stage.

Not long ago, it seemed, she had debuted to roaring crowds, the flashing lights of the film cameras almost blinding her, on the largest stage in the city.

She could still remember the flowers, the scent of jasmine, the gramophone jazz in the background, and the clinking of champagne glasses, all toasting to her.

Now, the lights dim earlier. The satin clings to a thin frame. And her voice is no longer the sparkling nightingale’s song, revered back in the day. But she sings anyway, not for fame but for something more enduring.

For the little girl who first discovered how to sing. For the mother who taught her to carry herself with grace. For the memory of a time when beauty wasn’t about youth, but poise.

As she ambled slowly along the cobblestoned street, her shadow dances under the streetlamps.

Glamour fades, but grace never does.

Light meets glass and memory clings —
a quiet moment from a sunlit past.
Bottles catch yesterday’s glow,
apples hold its fading warmth.
Beauty, once vivid, now settles softly,
a sigh in the afternoon stillness.

光映瓶影，暖留苹果，
昨日的阳光轻轻落在桌上，
像一声无言的叹息，
将美好封存于午后静谧中

Lights dim, applause fades, and crowds move on. But grace never disappears – in the poise of dignity, the resilience and courage, and the tenderness of our actions. It is the lasting glow, the aftertaste of elegance, the presence that endures.