There are different views on beauty. Some people say that flowers are the most beautiful and people can't put them down. Some people say that the pine trees on the mountain are the most beautiful and beautiful. But I only know the superficial appearance of beauty, but I can't feel its profound connotation. Some people think that beauty is an objective feeling, as long as they think that what is good is beautiful. I feel the same way. But in my heart, snow is the most beautiful and unparalleled. No matter how others praise others, they will be eclipsed in front of her.
I like snow, because it falls from the sky, free and generous, white and flawless, which makes people feel pity. Free from the bondage of the secular, drifting and falling, extremely natural and free and easy. Without a little arrogant temperament, it is inevitable to reveal her nobility. She does not struggle in the world, nor does she seek great strides here. All she wants is to find a foothold, turn hostilities into friendship, nourish everything and benefit the people. Please imagine what kind of beauty can compare with her selfless impatiens? At this time, the snow has come to the end of life and no longer exists, but her dedication is great, immortal and visible.
Snow is perfect from beginning to end, flying all over the sky, floating between heaven and earth, white, seems to make people feel very comfortable. Flocculate gently. Occasionally, a few snowmen stand, reflecting the lavender snow coat wrapped in red enthusiasm. You can imagine the happy scene of children playing at first. Isn't it exciting to watch everything suck the cool and sweet juice and turn green gradually?
2. the beauty in my heart. The hazy memory before I was three years old has long forgotten the beauty in my heart, and I don't want to fantasize about my life in those years with my present mentality.
From the age of three to eight, she opened up her own artistic world with a tender brush. Taking advantage of the rest day to learn painting may be bitter and tiring in the eyes of my peers at that time, but at that time I took painting as a beauty in my heart. I draw with a young mind, drawing beauty, but my heart is still beautiful. At that time, I thought that if I stopped painting, the beauty in my heart would die. However:
I gave up art at the age of nine, and I still can't remember the reason. But I didn't lose the beauty in my heart, just changed a new theme of beauty. Summer is less anxious under the scorching sun, and winter is less fun to walk in the snow, but the rest day finally belongs to me. Young I finally enjoyed the happiness of my rest day and finally had a carefree mood. Without the strictness of the painting teacher, there is only the simplicity of home and school. At that time, I felt that this most ordinary and simple life was the beauty in my heart.
At the age of eleven, I learned the legend of the white snake. Maybe I was misled. At that time, I knew that the White Snake was kind and beautiful, with almost no flaws. In that fantasy-loving period, the beauty in my heart is no longer a thing or a feeling, but a perfect embodiment, and the beauty of human nature is deeply rooted in my heart.
When I grow up, I know more about the wonderful outside world and accept more novelty. I live in this modern society, but I don't want to breed a complex that I can't get rid of. Although I have grown up, I am not deeply involved in the world, and I am still full of fantasy and "the age of white clothes fluttering". All day long, I have been having a dream of contacting and talking with the ancients. I want to put on a long robe and go back to ancient times to experience ancient social life. I like the ancients, like antiques, and like everything in ancient times. I don't know when this ancient love complex formed prompted me to recite Tang poetry and Song poetry crazily, trying to make myself archaize. Although I still love poetry, I feel ridiculous and ignorant when I think of the fanaticism of that year. But in those days, I could stubbornly regard everything in ancient times as the beauty in my heart.
I am who I am when I grow up. Now I like to recall, although I don't have much capital to recall the past. I like to listen to Tayu Lo and Zhang Aijia recall their happiness and sadness, and recall the past dribs and drabs with the rhythm of songs. Now I'm still stubborn. I thought the beauty in my heart was actually the past.
I used to think that the life-and-death of Hu Yidao and Miao Renfeng revealed an open and frank beauty; I thought that Li Mubai's eyes when he fell to the ground showed desolate beauty; I thought there was a tragic beauty in Zheng Jing's trembling hands when she committed suicide. After reading the death diary, I think life itself is actually a kind of beauty ... In fact, everything has its beauty regardless of personality, nature and universe. As long as we find them with our heart, they will all become beautiful things that have been recorded in our hearts. Even if it only becomes the beauty in my heart at that moment, we only care about the beauty that I once had in my heart. Even if the theme of beauty changes again, the beauty we once pursued and loved will remain in mine. All the goodness in my heart will be collected in the treasure house of memory, and I may slip out inadvertently, giving me a chance to appreciate the goodness in my heart again.
The beauty in my heart, however, no matter how long it stays in my heart,
This is the beauty of my life!