Think about these three years, my wolf hair has been written from one inch to half an inch, my inkstone has been flat to concave, and my Xuan paper has been written from foot to head. How many times, I filled my pen, just paper, and wandered in the world of calligraphy; How many times, I set up a post, chose Tuo, and wandered in the ocean of paper and ink. In summer, I put the paper ball in my palm, because sweat will drip down the pen. Shake hands with your fingers after practicing calligraphy in winter, because your fingers can't be straightened. Do I just give up? Do I practice hard day after day and year after year just because of one failure? Don't! I picked up the pen again and filled it up, just right.
Open the copybook, and the words in it are swaying, uniform or uneven. I studied each stroke carefully, observed the structure of each word and compared different fonts. It is also good to move a word completely and accurately to my paper. The words in my eyes seem to be no longer words, but radicals, strokes and strokes. I don't seem to be me, but the satrap who attended the party.
The teacher said, "If you have a wonderful experience, you can realize it with a pen." Yes, it is meaningless to just copy the words on the paper, which is why I lost. I still have to figure out the author's mood at that time. I opened the original book Preface to Lanting, imagining that Taishou was so happy at that time, and seemed a little sad. He could only drown his sorrows by drinking, but he was not a good drinker. This kind of emotion permeates between the lines, stretching but gathering, being straightforward but choosing.
Thank you, let me understand a person's heart in an instant. You made me understand how to write God from the heart and how to realize my dreams.