I am an art candidate and I stand up for my dream.

"June is a season full of laughter and vitality!"

"June is a season that connects the past and the future and leads to the future!"

"June , a season of letting dreams fly and sowing hope!”

“June, a season full of green sunshine!”…

“June. When the sunshine turns the wheat waves in the fields yellow, it also ignites your hope for a good harvest! One day later, you will go to the "battlefield" to embrace this June full of challenges and opportunities! ! The ideal of youth is like a snail meandering in the clear dew of morning and evening, so it is my earnest hope and warm blessings from my parents and teachers, and go forward bravely. There will always be a bright sun shining in the place where dreams rise. Summoning dream chasers who have been trekking for decades."

The passionate reading voice of the announcer Ruixi was heard from the other end of the broadcast. On Saturday morning, the sky was slightly bright. I got up early as usual. I listened intently to the radio while sipping on the steaming oatmeal. After today, the college entrance examination day of the new year is ushered in, and I can't help but sigh. The spoon stirred back and forth in the bowl full of oats with the rhythm of my hands, and the sweetness of the oatmeal and milk filled my entire mouth. I stared at the "vortex" formed by the stirring, and the past memories in my mind were slowly beginning to wake up.

In the summer of 2010, a 15-year-old ignorant boy ended the first "big test" in her life. The end of the high school entrance examination did not mean the end of the struggle, but the end of the youth's struggle. The shy young man began to face another new battle in his life.

On the first day after the high school entrance examination, my relatives and friends all sent their blessings immediately. They also inevitably asked questions about which school I planned to apply for next. In fact, when I was in my second year of junior high school, I started thinking about how I would spend this long high school career in the next three years. In the last summer vacation before the high school entrance examination, my mother and I went to the West Lake in Hangzhou. We happened to encounter the Zhejiang Art Museum, which is located next to the West Lake, and was holding its annual art exhibition. Out of curiosity, I followed the crowds and decided to go. Take a look. Not far away, you can see a huge colorful poster standing at the entrance of the art museum. On the poster are rows of dense text introductions. Following the direction, it is not difficult to find a few dazzling words written in the center of the poster. The big characters are "Contemporary Outstanding Artist" and "Yayoi Kusama".

So, out of novelty, I followed my heart and started this art world full of exploration. When I first saw these strange works displayed in the exhibition hall, I felt that my emotions would inexplicably fluctuate slightly with the color changes and expression techniques of the works, as if each of these works was different. Full of "raw" atmosphere, to be more precise, they are not simple color paintings, but express Kusama's emotional transmission at that time through the impact of color, distortion of lines, and changes in form. It's strange that at that time, I could really feel the loneliness that the work brought to people, a silent loneliness, a loneliness from the world that came from deep in her heart that could not be expressed in superficial words. ...

The moment I left the library, I excitedly told my mother what I was thinking and feeling. My mother was like a quiet listener. Along the way, I kept excitedly describing what the work was expressing and why the dazzling red color was used. What emotion does yellow represent for Kusama? What kind of story is the other painting telling? Until I returned home, my excited heart calmed down for a long time. Late at night, I quietly turned on the computer and looked up a series of Kusama's works online. The colorful blocks of color were like elves in the night. Dancing back and forth in the dark night sky. That night, it was the first time that the 15-year-old boy felt that the colors, paintings, and art in front of her could make her feel the emotional world that could not be expressed in words.

That night, maybe it was because the excitement after going out had not completely disappeared, or maybe it was the first time that the 15-year-old boy felt the excitement of art and himself. That night, the boy lay in bed, but she didn't close her eyes for a long time. She suffered from insomnia...

Perhaps this was God's will. After returning from the trip, the boy began to have a special emotion for art, and then In those days, she began to become crazy, flipping through the volumes every day and every night, art albums that others could not understand at all, sometimes even to the point of forgetting to eat and sleep, no matter what the people around her called her, she They are often indifferent and immersed in their own alien space. In the end, she decided to follow her heart. That summer, she insisted on applying for an art school despite the opposition of people around her. The result was predictable. People around her said she was ignorant. She was joking about her future, and well-meaning people tried their best to persuade her, hoping that if she thought about it carefully, she could stop the situation in time and not ruin her life because of her youthful absurdity. There was also a group of majority members who came one by one to make fun of the ignorant 15-year-old boy. The most common thing they say is, "Learn art, especially painting. It's not because you don't read well that you have to learn these things that are not available." "What's the use of learning something like this?" In the end, it’s not like you can’t find a job once you graduate.” No matter how sarcastic or unsupportive the people around him were, the young man still insisted on his choice.

In the end, I started my three-year art career during my three years in high school. The three years in high school were both hard and tiring. In addition to the heavy cultural studies every day, I also had to take painting courses in color and sketch. Every weekend, when the alarm clock rings, I shuttle to various tutoring institutions with my bulging schoolbags on my back, leaving at 7 a.m. and returning home at 9 p.m. Day after day, year after year, like this, an ordinary art student began her three-year long march.

Through two years of painting studies at school, I have progressed from the initial graffiti-style painting to the later in-depth character depictions. I have to admit that my painting skills have improved a lot through two years of hard work. However, if you want to get into a good art university, this is often not enough.

So, I made a bold decision to go to Zhijiang Studio in Hangzhou to study alone in the last two months before the art exam. (At that time, the school supported on-campus students to apply to study off-campus, provided that they signed a safety agreement.) So, I signed an agreement on off-campus study. The moment I signed, I didn’t feel a moment in my heart. The restlessness is as calm as a clear water.

In this way, I became the first teenager in my class to leave school and go to study in a foreign country alone. To be precise, I should be the first in the school in history. The night before I left, my parents did not show any sadness on their faces. In fact, they had always maintained a supportive attitude the moment they learned that I had made this decision. I still vaguely remember what my mother said at that time: "This is a good thing. You are not young anymore, so you can take this opportunity to walk outside alone and feel the wonderful things outside." The world. I hope that by studying abroad in the next three months, you can improve your living ability and strong willpower."

The next day, after formally bidding farewell to my parents, I started my journey alone. A journey to study in Hangzhou. Along the way, I was sitting on a bus from Ningbo to Hangzhou. I leaned in front of the window and looked at the scenery outside the window. I began to long for the beautiful scene that would be on the gold list in the next three months.

The 17-year-old boy thought that his heart was strong enough, but the boy cried on the first night after leaving home...

In the afternoon, I came to Zhijiang alone. After checking in at the studio and finishing all the formalities, I followed the life teacher in the institution to the dormitory where I will live for three months. This is a standard 6-person room of 30 to 40 square meters. Each of the four girls has their own room. Sitting on the bedside, chatting with each other, perhaps because of the arrival of new friends, they were at a loss for a while, and the girls' chat and laughter also stopped abruptly. Four pairs of big black eyes looked in the same direction.

"Girls, this is Xiao Jiang, the new student here today. In the days to come, she will study and live with everyone. If there are any difficulties in life, everyone will help each other." As soon as I finished speaking, the life teacher patted me on the shoulder and turned around and left.

As soon as the life teacher left, the four girls sitting in front of the bed jumped out of bed excitedly and rushed to surround me. A girl wearing glasses excitedly introduced herself: "Hello, I am the dormitory director here, my name is Tan Xiaoyun, you can just call me Xiao Tan from now on." While holding my arm excitedly, he said Pulled my hand. Then, a girl wearing a floral skirt squeezed in excitedly, "Hello, my name is Chen Yayi. I am a native of Hangzhou. You can call me Xiaoya. Let's go to the city center together on the weekend!" "Hello, my name is Wang Jingfang. I come from Hunan." She looked elegant and elegant in a white short-sleeved T-shirt. After these lively girls all rushed to introduce themselves, they all looked at me again. I felt embarrassed by the enthusiasm at this moment, and blushed. After pausing for a few seconds, I realized He cleared his throat and began to introduce himself seriously: "Hello everyone, my name is Jiang Yi (pseudonym), from Ningbo. From now on, everyone can just call me Xiao Jiang. I am very happy to be everyone's friend here. Please take care of me in the days to come.” After saying that, his face suddenly became red and hot.

The whole room suddenly fell silent for a few seconds. The girls seemed to be suddenly shocked by my introduction. They looked at each other and I looked at you. Immediately afterwards, bursts of crisp laughter came one after another. At this time, Xiao Tan on the side put his hand on my shoulder and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes. He said in a dumbfounded voice: "Xiao Jiang, you are too nervous. Relax." The other girls laughed so hard that they couldn't stand up straight. With her waist down, Xiaoya still rolled on the bed from time to time while holding her stomach.

In this way, I was fortunate to make these four friends from all over the world. We laughed and talked about our futures one night. However, after the fun, Xiaoya suddenly cried. We all got out of bed and came to Xiaoya's bed. The dormitory manager eagerly asked Xiaoya what was wrong. Xiaoya didn't say anything at first, she just kept biting her lip and lowering her head. At this time, the sharp-eyed Jingfang discovered something. She carefully asked Xiaoya, "Xiaoya, are you homesick?" At this time, Xiaoya suddenly started crying loudly. We sat around and became overwhelmed.

Perhaps, women are more emotional animals in this world, and everything around them will affect their emotions at will. In this room, four girls sat together, holding each other's arms and holding their heads, crying together, including me, who was already crying.

That night, five 17-year-old girls from different places felt the loneliness and helplessness of being alone in a foreign land for the first time in their lives.

In this way, a group of teenagers and I started a three-month art training camp. During these three months of hard time, we got up early every day at dawn and went to the studio to practice together. It was not until midnight that we dragged our tired bodies and supported each other and left the studio.

During these days, we cried and laughed.

Countless times we hid in the toilet alone and cried because of repeated failures. We don’t remember how many tears we shed, how many charcoal pencils we used up, how many stacks of drawing paper we used up and those scattered in every corner of the studio. Half a box of paints... Every day we watch the sun rise and set. The paint brushes shed our sweat and tears, and the colors fill the loneliness in our hearts. In the long night, we have been lonely, wandering, confused, and even thought about giving up again and again. But we encouraged each other over and over again.

Time is like a fleeting moment, and the three-month training camp is coming to an end in the blink of an eye. "Students, time flies by so fast. Three hours disappear quietly in the blink of an eye. In three days, we will be facing the end of the training camp." Come to the most important battle in your life. I hope you will work hard for the final victory. Teacher Li, I would like to express my congratulations in advance and wish you all good results in the exam!" As soon as he finished speaking, applause broke out in the classroom, and the children in the audience were all red-eyed, because only they knew that they had been waiting for this day for too long.

On the last day before the exam, the students left the school one after another. Xiao Tan and I were the only ones left in the dormitory. The dormitory was so quiet that you could hear the slight swing of the hour hand. At this time, Xiao Tan lowered his head and said to me: "Xiao Jiang, we are going to the examination room together tomorrow. You have to work hard!" "Well, you too. Let's work hard together." I echoed Xiao Tan, my eyes showing. With a firm look in his eyes.

On the morning of the exam, I waited at the entrance of the exam room with a group of candidates early. I leaned against the wall of the classroom and looked at my watch anxiously, "There are still 30 minutes left. Entering the examination room," I murmured in my heart. In order not to make myself too nervous, I took deep breaths again and again, and my mind kept thinking about the first phone call my mother made to me in the morning. My mother on the other end of the phone encouraged me as gently as ever. I clutched my chest and said silently, "Come on! You can do it."

"Students, you can enter the examination room. Please arrange your seats according to the positions on the admission ticket." At this time, the invigilator left the examination room. Come out and call loudly. In this way, a group of candidates waiting outside entered the examination room one after another. I followed the exam number to find my seat. I looked around and saw that the exam room was an ordinary classroom of about 70 square meters. The classroom was divided into four small areas. In the center of each area was placed a sheet of two lessons. On the display stand formed by spliced ??tables, there is an exquisite plaster head statue standing on the stage (the plaster head sculpture of a pirate was drawn on the day of the exam). After the candidates present find their seats, they can start to draw with their pens.

The examination room was extremely quiet. The young men all concentrated on creating the "paintings" in their hands. The summer in June was as sultry as usual. The old-fashioned fan above the head kept rotating, making the sound of an old machine one after another. A large amount of sweat seeped out from the foreheads and tips of the noses of the young men. , flowing down the river. But no one bothered to wipe it. They stared with bated breath, for fear of missing any extremely small detail. The only sounds that came from the entire examination room were the whirring fan and the elegant and moving sound of the familiar friction between charcoal pencils and drawing paper.

I was sitting there, holding a simple drawing board in one hand, and measuring the proportions of the sculpture with the other hand. My skillful right hand danced back and forth on the yellowed sketch paper with the rhythm. At that moment, I I felt the slight friction between the pen tip and the paper, sometimes smooth, sometimes rough, and the snow-white paper surface was slowly swallowed up by the light black charcoal lead. That feeling is like the passage of time, every bit of it will disappear with time, and eventually it will be swallowed up in the "black hole".

At that moment, I didn’t feel any nervousness at all, and I felt surprisingly calm. It seemed as if everything around him began to become blurry and seemed to have disappeared. I felt like I was in a "parallel world" of my own creation. There is no sound, no restlessness, no distracting thoughts here.

Two hours later, the horn in the examination room sounded. We stopped the brushes in our hands one by one, sat quietly, straightened our backs, and waited for the invigilator to collect the papers.

(As if a sacred ceremony had just been completed) There was no wave on everyone's face, and they were as calm as ever.

When I walked out of the examination room, I felt relieved, and the huge stone in my chest finally slowly fell. I turned on the phone that had been turned off for a long time and pressed a series of familiar numbers a few times. Then my mother's voice came from the other end of the phone again, "Yang (nickname)! How did you do in the exam? I've been worried about it." "Mom, everything is going well. I'll pack my luggage and come back in the afternoon." "Hey, okay. I'll go to the market to buy some crucian carp for you tomorrow. I haven't been back for so long, and so has your father." I miss you very much." Maybe it's because I'm too tired, or maybe it's been too long since I've been home, and my nose feels sore.

There is no such thing as a banquet that lasts forever. Finally, the five sisters in our dormitory welcomed this final farewell. On the night we parted, we originally agreed that no one would cry tonight. But in less than a second, we still cried. On the first day we cried to get to know each other, and on the last day we cried to be separated from each other. The older Xiao Tan rubbed his swollen eyes while smiling and comforting us, "There is nothing to cry about. Crying becomes a joke if others hear it. Sisters, we can get together again at any time in the future. Isn't it?" We nodded lightly but said nothing.

That night, we exchanged contact information with each other and promised to contact each other in the future. Yayi's eyes turned red and she warned: "Please remember to come see me when you come to Hangzhou in the future. I will accompany you wherever you want to go." After saying that, we girls started to hook up with each other like childish children and promised each other a promise. commitment.

This is the case for everyone. You will keep meeting some people, and you will keep saying goodbye to some people. From strangers to familiar people and back to strangers again, from being familiar with each other to parting ways, from regretting that we met too late. It's hard to see each other again. And life is like a never-ending practice. Give us parting so that we can know the joy of reunion; give us tempering so that we can become stronger; give us a taste of the bitterness of life so that we can know what sweetness is.

Tears will never flow in vain. The happiness we gain is often much more than what we lose.

Come on, art candidates, you have a colorful world in your pen: I hope you, and I believe you, have another splendid picture in your pen.