In real life or work and study, everyone has written compositions. With the help of compositions, we can improve our language organization skills. I believe that writing essays is a headache for many people. Below is a essay about my artistic path that I have carefully compiled for your reference. I hope it can help friends in need. My Art Path Essay 1
In my eyes, art is like a seed buried deep in the soil. As long as you have firm belief, it can take root and sprout; as long as you can resist the wind. When it rains, it will blossom and bear fruit.
I have dreamed of becoming a ballet star since I was a child. Put on a beautiful princess costume and pink pointe shoes, then stand on the stage of my dreams, gently tap the ground with my toes, slowly rotate, rotate...
Finally this My beautiful wish came true when I was six years old. My mother enrolled me in a ballet performance class at the Children's Palace. This is where my artistic journey began. On this road, I have worked hard, experienced ups and downs, and reaped the joy of success.
After a long period of time, I have completed the basic training of the ground, instep, and leg opening. One sunny morning, the teacher happily told me: "You can stand on tiptoes." I could finally put on those pink pointe shoes. Suddenly, I felt excited, but this excitement was quickly replaced by disappointment. A road full of thorns was paved in front of me.
It is said that ballet is a dance on pointe. Standing on pointe is the most basic technical movement in ballet, and it is also the most important one. I calmly held the bar, raised my chest, tightened my abdomen, and lifted my breath. I slowly arched my insteps, smiled, and raised my head involuntarily. But I soon discovered that it was easy to stand on my toes, but it was very difficult to support myself. The key point to dance on my toes was my ankles, but my ankles lacked strength and it was difficult to support myself. After a while, I couldn’t support myself. fell down. I tried again and again, one hour, two hours... time passed slowly, but I still couldn't stand on pointe for too long. At this time, I was already sweating profusely, and my toes began to tremble when I stood up. The toes under my feet were like the feet exchanged between a mermaid and an old witch. Every time I stood on my toes, the pain doubled. I felt that the pores all over my body were swollen, and the beads of sweat on my forehead continued to overflow, mixed with bitter tears and flowed down my face. The teacher said that I lacked strength in my ankles and could only make up for it through hard training. Therefore, I have to work twice as hard as others. "Should I give up?" This thought flashed through my mind. Maybe at this time, other students may be surfing the Internet to their heart's content; they may be chasing and playing on the grass; or they may be intoxicated by pop music... But I am repeating an action over and over again, and for what? Yes, it is to realize the dream in your heart. Since you have chosen this ballet path, you must continue on this path without any regrets. My Art Path Essay 2
Speaking of which, I am quite connected with art, although the final results are all unsuccessful. But I still want to talk about it.
I started learning electronic keyboard in kindergarten and have been learning it for more than two years. The children who started learning the piano at the same time as me gradually gave up, but I still persisted. Every day when I practice the piano, listening to the sweet melody flowing out from my fingers hitting the keys, there will always be a feeling in my heart. A sense of pride. But after I entered elementary school, I only insisted on attending the training class for one year. I interrupted my studies because of the long distance and fear that it would take up my usual time and my grades would fall. This is something my mother still regrets when she talks about it.
Being admitted to a children’s art school is undoubtedly another improvement in my artistic accomplishment. Although I am not good at art calligraphy, I still practice hard. Finally, my children’s paintings won the prize in Yuecheng District. I have won several awards and I have always taken art as a subject seriously.
During the calligraphy class, the teacher taught us to write with reverence. There were only a few ancient people with outstanding calligraphy over the millennium.
From the beginning of learning regular script, I did copy it with a reverent attitude. Learning calligraphy has also improved my handwriting. I think I can learn more and better things in this school than in other schools. I am also very grateful for my mother's choice. Until now, when I was doing my graduation project in the sixth grade, I once completed my homework carelessly. Faced with the teacher's instructions, I felt extremely ashamed and determined to practice seriously and be calm.
For me, my art path may not last long, unlike my classmates who can continue their calligraphy or art path after middle school. Therefore, I cherish the days when I picked up a color palette and used a brush to complete works in my elementary school days that are about to pass. However, the essence of an art that has been cultivated will not disappear in the polishing of the years. The temperament revealed in my bones, I am grateful that I have gone through such an artistic journey.
"Life grows in art, and art extends in life", which will be eternal. My Art Path Essay 3
When I was in the second grade, I especially liked billiards. Others think billiards is just a kind of entertainment, but in my eyes, I think billiards is an art and a kind of entertainment. Indispensable "beauty".
Billiards can be divided into several types, such as snooker and other types. Billiards can not only exercise people's eyesight and wrist flexibility, but also exercise people's patience. Billiards is also an indispensable sport. missing.
When I was seven years old, I saw Ding Junhui, the king of billiards, holding a cue majestically on TV. How majestic he looked! How handsome, so I made up my mind to learn billiards, beat the best in the world, and become the king of billiards. My mother did not agree with me playing billiards and said: "Children, no matter what billiards you play, you must focus on learning." On the contrary, my father said to my mother: "My child, the study tasks are quite heavy now, you can also relax."
When I first learned, it can be said that I was very "cowardly". Because I was very short, I climbed up on the stage, and then I didn’t even reach the pole, so I just took the other end of the club, which was very thick, and kept stabbing without aiming in the direction. My father saw me stabbing blindly. He immediately became serious, picked me up from the top, and criticized me, saying that what I was doing was not called playing billiards, but playing billiards. So my father asked me to stand on a chair, and then slowly asked me to set up the pole. , move, aim, and exert force, so my skills gradually became better and better. When I was at home, I often searched for information about billiards on the Internet. I held a pencil as a cue in my hand and a glass ball as a cue. When playing billiards, I go to the billiards hall every day to play from noon to evening. Sometimes, after playing for a long time, my hands will gradually bleed, but when facing my own artistic path, leaving a little blood is nothing. , just like that, day by day, the wounds on my hands became more and more, but I tolerated them. Finally, when I was ten years old, I had already mastered the game and could control the strength. Now I am like that one Straight-line balls are no longer a problem, as are those that are curved and curved. As long as you control the strength in your hands, the friction distance between the billiard ball, and the distance from the hole, you can handle it, but some are as close as the ball. If the hole is very far away, it will not be possible for ordinary people to do it, but I firmly believe that I can do it.
I love billiards and its artistic "beauty"! My Art Path Essay 4
When the beautiful sound of the piano sounds, it will cause me to sigh, recalling the distant time, and the sound of the young voice in front of the piano.
I once studied piano. At that time, I was still in high school, and they sent me there to learn piano. The purpose was to let me have the inner beauty and let the goddess of art accompany me to grow up. Unfortunately, I didn't understand it at that time.
So, on a quiet night, the intermittent sound of the piano will float out from the quiet room, dancing gracefully under the bright moonlight. , the four seasons cycle, every night, only the moon witnesses the sound of the piano from fragmented to smooth and melodious. Every Sunday, I would go to my teacher’s house with fear to “check out the piano.” Although the teacher is not fierce, I am very scared. Gradually, I began to choose to escape.
Whenever I should go to the teacher's house, I would find various reasons to extend my wait for the piano check; whenever the phone rang, I would happily guess if the teacher had something wrong and "forgive" me once; whenever I couldn't knock the door at the teacher's house, I would pray in my heart that I couldn't get through to the teacher; every time... the fear of the teacher was getting deeper and deeper in my heart, but I didn't dare to expose it, like a dormant volcano, I don't know when it will suddenly erupt.
Perhaps, I will never be able to regain my memory after all. Some things and people that happened back then have gradually become blurred in my mind. The only thing I remember is that it was another quiet night, with the sound of the piano still lingering, but it did not become smoother. I frowned in front of the piano, my fingers "fighting" happily on the keys, and the anger between my eyebrows became more and more intense. Finally, the volcano erupted, "I won't study anymore!" I threw the piano and left. It was another day to check the piano, but I never showed up at the teacher’s house again. Although my impulse brought me temporary relief, it left endless regrets.
A few years have passed. Now, I still sit in front of the piano, trying to find the melody of the past. However, his hands are no longer as dexterous as before. However, I believe that this time, I will be able to persevere. Looking up, the moon is still bright. Perhaps, one day, the melodious melody of the piano will sound again...