Short, Light, Free

Due to some reasons, a large number of users suddenly cannot open the web page to visit this site today. Please book friends to remember the domain name www.wuxiaspot.com (the first letter of literature + org dot com, wuxiaspot.com) to find the way home!

My name is Jock and I am an artist.

It is an artist in Dashan Village, but I think no one in our village understands art.

When I was little, my friends were still playing with mud in the field.

I've already started to put the mud into various shapes, although these things are my laughing stock in the eyes of my companions.

But I don't care at all.

When the support teacher in the village accidentally mentioned that fire can make the clay hard and form, my whole person is erratic.

After class that day, I took the little man I had made to the teacher's house.

The teacher frowned slightly when he saw the clay figurine in my hand.

But I still said happily: "Teacher, this thing will crack when it is dried. Is it true that you said that you can burn with fire in the class and no longer crack?"

The teacher smiled and said: "If you want to put down something first, people will go home first. I'll do it tomorrow, and then show you?"

"But teacher, I want to learn." I said.

The teacher said helplessly: "It's time to remediate your art class a few times alone, it's too ugly to pinch you."

"But teacher, this is you." I said.

On the same day, the teacher borrowed the stove from the neighbor's house next door.

And re-dressed the villain, and squeezed out the air bubbles on the surface.

When I made a fire in front of me, I put the clay figurine I pinched in, and then worked for four hours.

The teacher took the little pottery man out with a stick and put it in my hand after cooling down.

I watched the little Tao person in my hand happily speechless, and the teacher said with a smile: "Do you like this?"

I nodded excitedly and smiled.

The teacher thought and said, "Then you have time to find me for half an hour every night. I will teach you something about art."

. . . . . .

The teacher who supported the education spent three years in our mountain village.

According to the teaching teacher, these three years have brought everyone from illiterate to junior high school education.

And I am a teacher's favorite student.

The teacher taught me a lot, such as view angle and golden ratio.

It also told me that there should be no bubbles or the like when pottery is fired.

During the New Year, the teacher brought acrylic paint when he returned home.

"These pigments can color the clay, but the shelf life is only five years. Don't open the lid when not in use, it will fall off hard," the teacher said with a smile.

Before leaving, the teacher left me with all the acrylic paint, but I always used it very wisely and cherish it very much.

I have made more and more pottery and the appearance is getting better and better.

The children of other Dashan villages went to work at the age of fourteen or five.

And now I am 17 and still holding on to the earth. Although my parents say me every day, I never worry about letting me work.

Because the things I make can really be sold, things have to start with my father.

Every year Dashan Village goes to the town to exchange things, and my father is one of the buyers.

A few years ago my father tried to bring two of my pottery arts to the market. When I came back, I was very happy with a blue banknote in my hand.

I recognized it as fifty yuan, although there was no money at all in the mountains.

My father said with a smile: "There was a group of tourists who visited the market and saw the pottery for a long time. They immediately asked for the price and wanted to buy it back. During the period, the two people disputed. The price was high and high. I'm saying more expensive. "

Later I learned that a tourist team had a flat tire when passing by.

The guide suddenly wanted to take the passenger to a local market to resolve the dullness in the car.

And the passenger just happened to see the pottery in front of his father who traded things for money, and fought against each other.

In the end, two of them were bought at the price of fifty-one, and my father bought a lot of things with another fifty-rich village that used a little money.

In the following years, my father switched his strategy, not following other people in the village to exchange things.

Instead, he directly pulled the cart and took a dozen pieces of ceramic art to a farther place.

There is a rest stop on the tourist route, and the buses that come and go every day will be rectified there.

At this time, his father would pull the cart to sell pottery, and the money he earned would be used to buy materials at the fair.

At the beginning, people at the rest station will come to catch up with their father.

But after learning about his father's affairs over time, he learned that he had come across thousands of miles and instead had sympathy.

And my father also started to turn the annual sales into semi-annual sales.

Then it was once a month, and I was only required to have ten pieces of ceramic art within a month.

This is too simple for me who loves ceramic art, but even if I cherish the use of acrylic paint. Several of the commonly used colors gradually bottomed out, but my father and I talked about this matter helplessly.

In the chat with his father, the father thought to find a rest station to understand people.

My father asked the driver master at the rest station, but the driver promised his father to bring him acrylic paint.

However, the price offered was somewhat unacceptable. The bus driver pointed at the price on the screen with his mobile phone, which surprised his father.

More than one hundred cans of acrylic paint were presented to his father. Of course, the bus driver smiled and said that he could use ceramic art as a mortgage.

When he said this, his father felt that the bus driver was cheating him, but he was helpless and could only accept it.

Every month my father brought ten pieces of pottery to the rest stop and exchanged five pieces of bus drivers for acrylic paint.

Selling five pieces to passengers in exchange for banknotes, and then going to the market to shop became his regular meal.

But this section of the road is about 17 kilometers back and forth, and the father who pulled the scooter almost had to leave early and return late to do so.

The elderly father finally got tired one day and left this matter to me.

A few times before my father took me, I pulled the cart to sell.

Later, the third time, my father gave it to me completely.

I came to the rest station that day and found the bus driver.

The bus driver said to me, "What about the old one?"

"My father? I can't move anymore. I'll come here later. Will there be any red acrylic paint?" I asked.

The bus driver entered the lounge, and I watched him outside the door.

I just found out that he took out acrylic paint from the cabinet, and the cabinet was now full of stuffing.

This made me wonder, these things are not very expensive.

The driver came to me, holding two cans and said to me: "Two two hundred, or five pottery."

After redemption again, I had a very happy chat with a customer during the sale.

He said he was a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and was very interested in the ceramic art I made.

I immediately asked him the price of acrylic paint.

When he opened a software called Taobao on his mobile phone and showed me the real price of these acrylic paints.

When he was unable to suppress his emotions, I immediately got up and ran to beat the driver.

The rest of the rest staff pulled me and the driver away, and I and the rest of the rest broke down.

After I went back, I cried and told the truth to my father. My father held a **** angrily and wanted to go to the rest station to take revenge.

Stopped by me, my father was angry for not sleeping for a night.

The next day my father took out a small bag and said to me: "Child, go to the city. It may not be suitable here. That's where you should go."

I opened the bag, which contained ten hundred pieces.

If you like light and short, please let me collect: (www.wuxiaspot.com) Light and short, the fastest literature update speed in loose writing.