The other sky that can best carry my dreams is the snow-white drawing paper. And what depicts dreams is the magical brush. I am inspired when I draw!
Pencils disappear one after another, which is the passage of time; blank sheets of paper accumulate; that is the proof of memory. I have loved drawing since I was a child, and I love to leave handwriting. I have also dreamed of being a painter in the future since I was a child. But it is reality. The gap between me and my dream is so big. Therefore, I have never learned to paint. The seeds are just like this and will no longer germinate... But at least I can still take it as a hobby and paint just because I love painting. There is nothing wrong with it. Although I have grown up In the middle, the ocean of dreams is ebbing. But the sky is still clear. Here, I transform into a bird and keep watching, never forgetting. Winter comes and summer comes, flowers fall and flowers bloom. Fortunately, I have a paintbrush to accompany me through these years. I no longer expect to have that magic pen that can make everything come true, because in my eyes, any pen that is painting is so magical, because different things will definitely be born: an unyielding soul, beautiful scenery, and playfulness The elves, even the funny footprints...these are my magic; this is my world! When you are happy, you use sunshine to outline the beautiful scenery; when you are disappointed, you also use rain to add hope; when you think, you paint your wings with knowledge; When I'm sad, I draw a thatched house to recuperate... When I'm painting, I don't have to think about anything; when I'm painting, hope is always rekindled in my heart. Why do I enjoy it, why am I full of fantasy, is it because it is my hobby? No, because it is My dream!
I have never forgotten my dream. Only with seeds can there be hope for germination. This is the sky of my dreams. I can soar to my heart's content. I will have strength when I pick up the brush and spread out the paper. Then I have hope, I don’t care how much I pay, I only care about my own growth. Everything is just because of the dream...
There, everything is expressed wordlessly with pen on paper; there is where I fly Place, my other sky