In this way, a seed was planted. 1 The sunshine is cool and apricot blossoms are in full bloom. Sitting in the cloister with a scroll in his hand. In this way, I planted a seed for reading.
Noon. The weather is hot and dry, and insects and cicadas are singing on the trunk without tiredness. The reeds in the street are no longer as foreign as before, drooping their heads and wilting. At this time, the sun rolled like a fireball, rumbling and rolling straight to people's heads. Pedestrians on the road are in a hurry, as if they will get sunburned if they stay in this sun for a long time.
My mother and I sat in the room, reading together, quietly in the sea of books. But somehow, it may be because of the weather, or it may be because I don't want to study, so I can't settle down to study. In that book, everything from Liu's Three Wishes to Taoyuan's Three Wishes to the burning of Chibi swirled in my mind, making me dizzy.
Look up. I saw my mother with a book in one hand and a pen in the other, absorbed in reading. Her eyes are different when she reads a book. When she was reading, her eyes sparkled with stars, as if she had a whole star in her eyes.
I didn't want to put up with this. I frowned impatiently and said, "Mom, I don't want to study any more. What are the benefits of studying? I don't need the exam at all! " Mom looked up, dumbfounded, with a hint of dissatisfaction in her eyes, and said earnestly, "Reading is not to get good grades, but to enrich my soul." I am thinking about the meaning of this sentence, but I still can't figure out why I study. "Reading is a kind of faith for us. We study to broaden our knowledge. " My mother saw my incomprehension, paused and continued, "in this world, all people, everyone should be meaningful." We should enrich ourselves and learn more knowledge, instead of reading for the sake of reading ... "My mother's words made me fully understand the meaning of reading, and in this way, I quietly planted a seed that I love reading in my heart.
The moonlight is cold, and flowers bloom and fall. But I still sat in the cloister, with a scroll in my hand, reading softly. As we all know, the seeds of reading are quietly growing and breaking through the ground. ...
So, I planted a seed. My father's part-time job is very strange. Probably because he is a teacher and has made great achievements in Chinese studies.
Occasionally, my father took me to visit the museum to enrich my knowledge. It is also a collection of China culture, with a wide variety of things. The history of Qin, Qi, calligraphy and painting, and the original products of the four great inventions are all displayed in it. The museum is surprisingly quiet, except for some noise in the corner. Some foreigners are enjoying it. I'm curious to squeeze in. He is an old man who looks senior and knowledgeable. He said: "China has a long history and profound connotations, but in my opinion, couplets are the real treasures. He pays attention to level, neatness and semantic relevance, and the pace of reading is light, slow and fine. " He looked down at the newspaper in the glass room and touched it gently with his hand. Although he didn't touch it, I saw his special love and love for those mysterious things.
Then he said: this is the rest of the couplet. Many people think that he was written by Yan Zhenqing, but I don't think so. The antithesis is neat, there is no gap between the lines, the flaws are clear, gentle and gentle, and the feelings are pure and noble. More like couplets of great calligraphers in the Qing Dynasty. How beautiful! How affectionate! "Aye," he seems to have swallowed, turned around and studied it carefully. I leaned down, studied it carefully, and meditated in my heart, as if I had created a beautiful artistic conception in my mind. The United States has pictures, paintings with feelings, long and short, and it will be beautiful! Somehow, an inexplicable feeling made my eyes stay on the couplet, as if I had forgotten myself, intoxicated with it and loved it deeply.
In this way, the love of couplets is like a spring seed, buried in the heart, ready to sprout and blossom at any time.
It was not until a few months later that I got the qualification to participate in the couplet competition. On the field, the phrase "Play out human grievances and sing songs in the sky" shocked the audience, and another phrase "Poetry at the bottom of the pen can shake the world, and the moon in the atrium can hold the sky" aroused thunderous applause, ending with "Exploring treasures in the mountains and boating in the sea" and easily won the first prize. "Painting the wonders of the world, showing the true feelings of the world", couplets are a scene of affection. At this time, it was deeply imprinted in my heart, took root and sprouted like a seed, grew up and developed its own style.
In this way, I planted a seed in my heart and nourished it with the beauty of couplets.
In this way, a seed was planted. Years have buried so many memories silently. Old times, old feelings, can't come back, just like the wind on the road. Bit by bit, like the stars in the Milky Way, hidden behind time, but as long as you touch them gently, they will overflow every sleepless night like flying catkins and snowflakes. My grandfather in my memory is gentle, and under his traction, I planted a seed like this.
April is foggy, flowers bloom into valleys, and butterflies spring. The seeds of calligraphy in my heart have sprouted and are growing into towering trees. Take a four-foot rice paper, unfold it with a paperweight, gently hold the inkstone, quietly put it down, and pour the ink. Take the pen, hold the pen, and control the writing brush to dip ink by wrist. Ink runs along the nib, up, spread, belly, root ... suddenly, ink will wet the nib. Hold a pen, put pen to paper, and swing your wrist with wolf hair; Go back to the peak, close the pen, and carefully rub the tip of the pen on the paper, like squeezing oil in a Rubik's cube. The more the ink grinds, the more fragrant it becomes, and it goes straight into my heart, which reminds me of the fun of writing with my grandfather and the picture of the seeds of calligraphy once buried in my heart. The morning light disturbs the stranger's new mulberry, and the thick ink pursues love.
The horizontal direction is the calm lake surface of Dongting, and the water waves are not shocking;
Even though it is the vigorous pine of Huangshan Mountain, it insists that the green hills will not fall;
Skimming is a sharp blade in the battlefield, with swords and shadows;
Thinking is the source of China's spirit, which is wonderful;
The ink sticks to the light, and the light smoke generally scatters into the air and rotates ... Time seems to be a fault at this time, which brings me back to the scene when I was a child: I stood quietly at my desk, watching my grandfather grinding ink and writing, and the afterglow of the sunset reflected on him, and everything was so quiet. Grandpa held my little hand from time to time, waved his wrist with me, and wrote down Chinese characters that condensed China culture. It was at that time that I thought calligraphy was wonderful. Unconsciously, I planted a seed of calligraphy in my heart. ...
After writing a work, my thoughts come back to the present, and I think of my grandfather who left me long ago, and I have only a peace of mind, because grandpa has poured his love for me into the seed buried in my childhood, and this seed containing grandpa's expectations and wishes has now sprouted and grown into a towering tree, guiding me forward! In the future, I will keep the purest love for calligraphy! Thank you, Grandpa. You planted seeds in my heart, which made me fall in love with calligraphy and China culture, and changed my life! That seed will take root and sprout in my heart bit by bit, blossom and bear fruit.