The road is at your feet 1000 words 1 it's late at night, and the moonlight penetrates into the window sash. I sat at my desk alone, letting tears pattering wet the rice paper. ...
The tall father took my hand and walked into the house. A man with dark skin and a bright smile came to me. Father said, "Son, will you learn calligraphy from this teacher in the future?" I just nodded my head.
At that time, I was seven years old and was on my way to learn calligraphy.
When the clock pointed to 5 o'clock, I couldn't wait to run into the room, with a certificate in my hand. "Mom, mom, I won the first prize in this calligraphy competition." Hearing the news, she put down the kitchen knife and hurried out of the kitchen. Looking at the raised awards, she recalled the crow's feet beside her lips and narrowed eyes, as if cheering for me.
At that time, I was ten years old, and I made brilliant achievements on my way to learning calligraphy.
Until, I stepped into the threshold of junior high school. Every day I always drag my heavy schoolbag and tired body home, and there are countless homework and calligraphy exercises at home. Every time I ask my mother to stop practicing calligraphy, she always disagrees. That day, when I mentioned it again, she slapped me. I covered my face and left without looking back. ...
With a bang, the door slammed on the wall, and I sat in the chair, letting the tears drop by drop on the paper.
After a while, my mother came, with a tissue in her hand. After wiping my tears, I said, "Son, this is the way you chose. You must go by yourself. " Say that finish and left.
I think, yes, this is my own choice of calligraphy road, I must go on.
Now, I am twelve years old. I have wavered on the road of learning calligraphy, but I will not give up.
The road is at your feet. You can only stick to the chosen road and don't give up halfway.
The road is at your feet 1000 word 2 The road is very long, and the road of life is really long. One step at a time, I walked over and looked around. I see that the endless source has gone away, leaving only footprints that have not disappeared, leaving only vivid bits and pieces in my memory.
Step by step, grow up bit by bit. I keep learning, making progress and laying the foundation for the future, but when Jude's future comes, she will be very tired.
Step by step, footprints. Can't go back to the past, can't go back to memory, can't go back to the moment of regret. I can't change the past and rewrite history. I just feel like I've suddenly grown up.
Step by step, a little memory. The farther I go, the longer I walk. The history books of life are getting thicker and thicker, but I just feel that I have the gift of time to leave.
Looking back, I wonder, who is she, him? What is this? I don't remember.
My eyes are replaying the past. I'm not familiar with it. Here, there and where, I don't know.
The present life only lays the foundation for the future struggle, but those boring figures have become my testimony; Thick books and monotonous words have become my only way. It is an evaluation of my ability, a proof of my efforts and a sign of my growth.
Walking at the foot of the road, with panic, looking at the endless road ahead, fearful; Carefully capture the pictures of memories, surprise. Every surprise makes me have no courage to go on. I am afraid that I will come to the end of the road, I am afraid that I will lose my memory, and I am only afraid of the hard road.
The road is rugged and winding. How to complete it? How to go on?
No one can predict what will happen to me next, only my own attempts can tell me the answer.
The road is at the foot of the composition 1000 words 3 I still remember when I first learned to draw, the teacher gave us a model. As a result, everyone painted the teacher a big face. After handing it in, the teacher laughed and cried; I wanted to change the color of the cat with paint, but I made my clothes into camouflage clothes and was caught by the cat several times. Because the paint couldn't be squeezed out, I bit hard with my mouth and took a bite of the paint. ...
The road of painting in my childhood was unrestrained, which was my first step on the road of painting.
"This cat looks lovely. It seems very happy. " This is the teacher's evaluation of the cat I drew. "But-why doesn't it have a tail?" "Cats must have tails, understand?" The teacher has a serious face. Looking at the teacher's serious face, I nodded slightly, but I secretly refused: Why do cats have to have tails? Can't it be a … can't it be a "cork cat"?
When I was a teenager, the road to painting had a certain pattern, which was a big step for me on the road to painting.
Oh, no, today's art assignment is to draw a lion. I asked for leave last class and didn't learn the painting of lion hair, but I have to hand it in. I was thinking hard about how to cope with today's homework, and suddenly I had a brainwave: can I draw lion hair by drawing cat hair? The next day, I handed in my homework with confidence.
Now I have formed my own painting method on the road of painting, which is a qualitative leap on my painting road.
This is my road, a road that I stumbled out of. I believe that no matter who I am, I will stumble out of my own bright road in chaos!