When I was a child, like many children, many things made me feel amazing and full of curiosity about it, just like a ray of sunshine and a colored ball, which kittens like.
I took my father's hand and jumped home and passed a studio. The colorful pictures inside attracted me. I ran in and picked up a painting and looked at it: "Wow. . . How beautiful! " Watching my little brother and sister concentrate on painting, I was surprised and envious.
Suddenly, an idea occurred to me. I pulled my father's skirt and shouted, "Dad, I want to learn to draw! Dad, I want to learn to draw! "
"good!" Dad signed me up at once. The next day, I happily stepped into the studio and started my childhood dream.
Second,
In primary school, we spend our time in happiness and trouble. So ignorant, so playful, so willful.
"painting! Draw! No matter how to draw! A good weekend, other children can play, why can't I! "
Actually, I'm afraid of the exam. I began to complain and even got tired of painting. It seems that painting has become a mountain on my back and a rope that binds me. Driven by such psychology, I was very annoyed with my original decision and planned to give up.
Finally, I reluctantly carried the drawing board and stepped into the gate of middle school.
Third,
These days, we have been immersed in the sea of books and homework. On weekends, when everyone shouted "tired" and lay down, I sat on my way to the studio with my drawing board on my back. In the hot summer and cold wind, I draw every detail with a brush and draw the outline of things with color. Walking between black and white or red, yellow and blue, depicting the dream in my heart on white paper, a person has come to the present.
Ten years have passed, more and more grades have passed, and more and more prizes have been won. Looking back on the tortuous road, I am very pleased. But I'm more thankful for my original decision and persistence. If a dream can fly, then persistence is its wings.