My sky composition 1 My sky is endless; Is colorful; This is a brisk dance. ...
She once said to me, "She looks forward to the future, because the future is her sky." She asked me, "What is your sky?" I smiled and replied, "Painting."
She smiled and said, "Well, come to me when your painting is good enough!" I smiled and replied, "OK." She said: "A gentleman's word, four horses are hard to catch, and the final decision is made." She said that and turned away. I imitated and said, "Jun ... A word from a gentleman is a promise that cannot be recalled." Turn away, too.
five years later ...
She has grown up, but there is always a smile on her face. When encountering difficulties, she will still smile and say to herself: "Life is like tea. Without repeated brewing with boiling water, it is impossible to show its fragrance. "
She also vaguely understands that the sky that belongs to her is always smiling.
She wrote a letter to her brother: Brother, I see. Smile is my sky. I wonder if your sky is still there. ...
Hurry up ... her brother wrote back to her: Sister, my brother is glad for you. My sky will always be there, and I hope your sky will always be there …
She said to herself: "The significance of the existence of the sky lies in: no regrets about yesterday, rich fruits for today, and perfect plans for tomorrow."
I hope my sky will always smile and my brother's sky will always be beautiful. ...
Another dusk came, and I was still drawing at the window, and the picture was still monotonous. I threw down my brush angrily and stared at the dusk outside the window. However, my vision has changed: a few returning birds pass by the horizon, smoke rises from the distant village, and the little girl in the opposite high building sits on the mountain, as if sitting in the sky, just like her sky ... Yesterday, that kind of emotional impulse filled my heart again, and I quickly picked up the brush: returning birds from the horizon, smoke from the kitchen, little girl, castle peak ... last night, too. Perhaps, I was just looking up at the vastness of the sky, but I didn't explore the trivial details in the sun carefully?
Hey, I think of her again.
My Sky Composition 2 The sky in my mind is a carefree sky, which allows us children to fly freely like birds.
In class, one difficult problem is solved in our laughter. After school, boys' vigorous figures flashed on the playground; In the body room, the beautiful posture of the girls is beating; Beautiful songs came from the music classroom. On weekends, students will go out to play in groups. Over the playground, in the rivers and lakes, our cheerful laughter is echoed. We don't have to worry about homework and extracurricular classes, and we don't have to worry about school exams. ...
However, this is just a fantasy and a beautiful dream after all. The cruel reality pulled me back from my imagination. I just think the real sky is another scene. ...
In class, the teacher always says, "Students, listen carefully for the last time and don't be distracted." Finally, it's time for class, and just want to relax for a while, another teacher came in: "Class begins now!" " ""huh? ! "The disappointment of the students is beyond words." What, you don't want to? The exam is just around the corner. Aren't you nervous at all? If you don't want this, just show me the result! "Say that finish, I picked up the chalk and left the dazzling white light on the blackboard ... On weekends, extracurricular tutoring and homework became the main theme of my life. After school and home have become the starting point and end point of my daily commute. It is common to stay up until 1 1 without burning the midnight oil. My mother often nags in my ear: "Bitter now, sweet later. Study hard now, and it will be much easier to go to work later. "Mom, how I want to say to you," You expect too much from me, and I can't afford it. "
It's the third grade, the senior high school entrance examination, and it's thundering. Homework, thesis, cram school, physical training. Like a dark cloud, I can't breathe. I am like a bird with wet wings. I can't fly high. How I hope that one day I can have a pair of hard wings, see the sun through the clouds and soar in the blue sky that belongs to me.
Through the narrow window, I silently looked at the palm-sized sky outside the classroom. A breeze blew, and I accidentally found a bird passing in front of my eyes, taking my sight to explore a wider sky than this. Thoughts turn back and forth, or return to this palm-sized sky, faint. In the sun, blue is bluer. This is my sky. Lang Lang's reading sound always rings in the morning, rippling under this sky. This rhythmic poem, read by the crisp voice of the teenager, has become particularly melodious. Under the sky, we are intoxicated by the tranquility of the morning and the rising sun. Drinking wine and enjoying the moon with Li Bai, worrying about the country and people with Du Fu, picking chrysanthemums under the towering Nanshan with Tao Yuanming, and drifting in the ocean with Wen Tianxiang ... My sky is rendered intoxicating red by these ingenious poems.
Quiet breathing always floats out of the sky at noon. The fiery fireball scorched everything. Everything is quiet, perhaps afraid of the heat, and everything disappears without a trace. We have fallen asleep quietly. Squeaking, as if tasting delicious food; Grinning as if dreaming of an anecdote; Raise your arms, perhaps practicing twenty-four Tai Ji Chuan with others; Stretch your legs, maybe you are swimming around somewhere. Sleep soundly and dream comfortably. Sweetness crept into the whole classroom. My sky was dyed sweet and fiery gold by clouds.
Dusk is undoubtedly the busiest. There must be a group of boys on the playground showing off their wild bodybuilding: playing basketball, kicking shuttlecock and skipping rope ... In the garden, there are always people walking around in twos and threes. In the sunset, their hearty laughter is particularly clear, and they can even shake off a few petals and fall leisurely. Younger children are always fighting, chasing here, falling there, screaming and laughing, rolling down in the soft grass. The sunset suddenly set, and my sky was stained with vibrant orange. All the interesting stories are interpreted under this sky, all the wonderful songs are played under this sky, and all the laughter and tears are released under this sky.
My sky is small, but it is brilliant.
When I was a child, I always admired the works of those calligraphers, looked at their flying calligraphy, and longed to have their good handwriting one day.
This wish, so quietly rooted in memory, slowly grow up.
Just entering primary school, there is an annual calligraphy king new character competition. That kind of honor may be nothing to the materialistic times, but it is undoubtedly a great satisfaction to our young hearts. So, I began to contact calligraphy.
It was awkward at first, and I couldn't grasp the posture of holding the pen well. In this way, something called "disappointment" beats my heart again and again. I thought of giving up on myself, but when I saw that there was no name on the list of winners, I was sad for a while. These are really nothing compared with the suffering that may be suffered in the future. But my father refused to give up me and my original dream. In order to teach me the posture of writing, he gave up his lunch break and taught me to practice writing after dinner. With my father's help and unremitting efforts, my calligraphy has finally made progress, surpassing my father's calligraphy by leaps and bounds.
After the third year of high school, the available time has been reduced again and again, but I have not given up calligraphy. Once I am free, I will pick up my brush and practice again. Sometimes, in order to test my basic skills, my father will suddenly walk past me and take my pen. He won't walk away with a smile and contentment until he finds that I have completely grasped the pen.
Time always flies. In a blink of an eye, I am in the fourth grade, and I have no extra time to brush off the dust on the brush and ink it. So I stayed in the corner all the time. Perhaps it also understood my fatigue, so it quietly hid in the corner and stopped bothering me, and I slowly forgot.
Until a cleaning, I dug out a brush from under the sofa, and the fragments in my memory reconnected, took root and sprouted, and occupied my whole memory in an instant.
I wrote it again, only to find that I couldn't control it anyway. Alas, although he is no longer my former "friend", the beautiful memories he gave me in the past are the most beautiful clouds, the most gorgeous rainbows and the clearest sky in my life.
Calligraphy, my sky.
My sky composition 5 My sky is full of fantasy. I never seem to grow up at the age of fifteen. I fantasize that I am a magical child who can do anything with a mouthful of spells; Fantasize that your future life will be harmonious and calm; I fantasize that my world is always colorful and full of innocence. Often a person looks at the sky in a daze and waits for a while: "I wish I were a child of God!" " Since then, my sky has been naive.
In my sky, I try to fantasize and become a lovely person.
My sky is full of ideals. With pure fantasy, there is naturally a realistic ideal. I tried my best to stick to my ideal and not let it slip through my fingers. I will study hard, fight for my ideal and put my ideas into action. I concentrate on reading every day. Even when night comes, I know that the moon and stars will never leave me. They are reminding me to work hard for my ideal. I'm fifteen years old, and I'm not young. I still have to struggle on my own in the future. There will be no road paved by me in the world, and the future depends on yourself! Then, in my sky, there must be another persistence.
In my sky, I work hard and I try to be the one who makes my dream come true.
My sky is full of youth. I am growing up in my prime of life. I shuttle through the school every day, feeling the "youthful" classmate friendship and deeply feeling the warmth of teachers and students. And I know fifteen must be an extraordinary age. Because at this time, I used to hide my sadness with happiness; I like to face challenges bravely. I am confident, arrogant, passionate and rebellious. Accustomed to being careless and heartless all day, I have always been full of blood and it is difficult to calm down. I care about other people's opinions and I hate my weakness. I want to be a strong person in life and study. In this young season, I feel that the flower of blood in my body is blooming, enchanting and arrogant. Just like my stubborn and brave smile. Therefore, my sky has a youthful color.
In my sky, I try to smile and try to be a person who doesn't cry.
My sky, my little world, is always blue and clear. It tolerates my mistakes and carries my love.
My sky.
It must be there.
I love you forever.
My Sky Composition 6 Another sky that can best carry my dreams is snow-white drawing paper. It is a magic pen that depicts dreams.
Pencils disappear one by one, which is the passage of time; White paper piles up like a mountain; That's proof of memory. I like painting since I was a child, and I like to leave my own handwriting. I also dream of becoming a painter in the future. But there is such a big gap between reality and dreams, so I haven't learned painting, and the seeds are like this, and they don't sprout any more ... But at least, I can regard it as a hobby, just because I love painting, and there is nothing wrong with painting, although I am growing up and the ocean of dreams is ebbing.
But the sky is still clear. Here, I have become a bird. I have been waiting for it and will never forget it. Winter goes and summer comes, and flowers bloom and fall. I am glad that I have a brush to accompany me through these years. I no longer expect to have a magic pen that can draw everything, because in my eyes, any pen that is being drawn is magical, because different things will be born: unyielding soul, beautiful scenery, playful elves, and even funny footprints ... these are my magic; This is my world!
Some people say that the world is black and white, and I say that the world is magnificent; Some people say that black and white will mix into gray. I said gray can be beautiful. In the world of painting, everything is beautiful and bizarre. No matter Van Gogh, Picasso or Leonardo da Vinci, I prefer to read my own works. After all, it was a quiet, comfortable, leisurely and quiet time, and there were no surprises in the courtyard. This is my ideal world. When you are happy, you will associate beautiful scenery with sunshine; When you are lost, you also add hope with rain; When thinking, daub your wings with knowledge; When you are sad, draw a hut to recuperate ... you can draw without thinking about anything; When painting, my heart is always rekindled with hope. Why enjoy it, why full of fantasy, because it is my hobby? No, because this is my dream! ! !
I have never forgotten my dream. Only seeds have the hope of germination. This is my dream sky, and I can soar to my heart's content. Pick up the brush and you will have strength. When you spread out the drawing paper, you will have hope. You don't care how much you pay, you only care about your own growth. Everything, just because of dreams. ...
There, there is my world, my story and my dream; There, express everything silently on paper with a pen; There, where I fly, my other sky!
My Sky Composition 7 Everyone has his own sky, and my sky is harmonious, happy and beautiful.
School is a part of the sky, where I fly freely and carefree every day. My other partners and I are studying and forging ahead here, and we will fly higher and higher.
This sky is full of knowledge, books, laughter and friendship. Knowledge grows with me, and I can live a better life. With knowledge, I am not afraid of difficulties, go forward bravely and fly to success. I am addicted to books, which make my life full of fun, make me not empty, and make me realize the preciousness of life.
After learning the preface to seeing Ma Sheng off to Yang, I know that Song Lian loves reading very much, and books are an inseparable part of him. Because he was eager to learn, he finally succeeded.
Books are precious wealth, and books give me strength.
This sky is filled with friendship, and my classmates and I live a happy school life. We help each other, unite and be friendly, and form a harmonious family. Here is full of laughter, we chase and play together and enjoy the wonderful student time. Think together, solve the problem together, and when the problem is solved, we will rejoice. Our friendship is deep and sweet as ice cream.
A warm little home is another part of the sky. I can watch TV series, share the ups and downs in TV series, listen to music, relax, cultivate sentiment, and most importantly, feel the love of my parents.
My parents love me the most in the world. They work hard to earn money, but they still care about me. I am a pearl in their hands. When I am sick, it is their most anxious time; They are happiest when I laugh; When I am sad, it is their most painful time. My parents are my patrons, and my family is full of deep feelings. I also want to be a more sensible boy.
My sky is full of schools and families, full of friendship and care. I fly and dance here every day, which is my favorite place.
Everyone has his own hobbies: painting, dancing and playing the piano, but my hobby is singing.
When I think of singing, everyone thinks of the singer who stood on the shining stage and performed for the audience, but I am different. I just hope I can sing well, and I don't want to sing on such a big stage.
On the day I was born, the sound of "Wow-"resounded through the whole ward. My aunts who delivered my baby said that I was singing material when I grew up, because I had a loud voice. Maybe I heard their praise, maybe I really did what they said, and since then, I have been crazy about singing.
I remember once, my grandparents came to my house from the countryside, and I was very happy. As soon as they entered the room, I sang a song: "Ah-",which startled my grandparents, invited all the neighbors and called our house a "nuisance". Alas! Sad! To this end, my parents also gave me a lecture, saying that my grandparents are in poor health. What should I do if I scare them again? I spat out my tongue and ran to one side.
Although I failed this time, it can't stop my love of singing. I have been looking for opportunities to show it again.
When I was eight years old, I could already sing some simple songs, such as "Losing Handkerchiefs" and "Counting Ducks", and I felt good about myself.
Finally, the opportunity came.
At noon that day, my father invited my former business partner to my home. He happened to be a music teacher. After knowing the news, I was so happy that the opportunity I had been looking for finally came.
This time I listened to my father, and I stopped singing as soon as he came in. It's time for dinner. I said loudly to the teacher, "Teacher, let me sing you a song." Then, I began to sing, but I forgot the words in the middle. I had a brainwave and said, "Today's performance is over. Welcome to listen next time! " I saw them laughing from the side. Afterwards, my father told me that my teacher praised me and said that I had a loud voice.
Until now, I still like singing. Singing, you fill my after-school life, you are my sky!