To anyone else, it was just a simple white cotton bag, but to me, it was a canvas (油画布) for my latest masterpiece. I laid it flat on the six-foot-long wooden table in my kitchen. With one hand I held down a corner of the bag and with the other clipped my brush in the paint and touched it to the canvas, and slowly an image took shape. Painting was hard, but I enjoyed it. And my friends and family loved the bags. “I get tons of praise for mine,” my mother told me.
Only getting those paintings appreciated was quite not the honor I’d dreamed of when I first picked up a paintbrush as a kid. I used to aim higher. I wanted my work to appear in the Louvre Museum in Paris, right next to the Mona Lisa. But even then, I knew what a wild dream it was.
My parents encouraged my interest, and paid for art lessons. In high school, I joined an art club, and showed my work along with other local artists in an exhibition. I started college and majored in fine art, took classes in drawing and design. But the farthest I ever traveled to was New York City. The Louvre might as well have been on another planet. Then things changed. I met and fell in love with Charlie. After we got married, I took a break from art.
When I finally picked up a brush, I was rusty and lost my inspiration. I tried a landscape but it was flat. Things in the foreground were the same size as in the background. I’d lost the ability. I was frustrated and threw down my brush. Maybe I’d never really had any talent at all. Charlie turned me around. “You have a talent,” he told me. “Keep painting.”
Paragraph 1 :
One day, walking through town, I found some white cotton bags in a store window.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Paragraph 2 :
The next month, Charlie and I visited the Louvre Museum in Paris.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
相似题推荐
Rafael is my parents’ friend who owns a bakery with the yummiest (最美味的) treats imaginable. He happened to stop by when my friends Mareya and Daniel, my little sister Indi and I were drawing with chalk in front of my house. He said our drawings were cool, while trying not to step on them as he walked toward the door to find my dad. We expressed our thanks and continued to draw.
A little while later, when he came back out with my dad, Rafael said he had been thinking about our wonderful drawings, and that he’d really love our help. He was going to sell cookies, and the profits would go to an organization that worked to save the rainforests. When asked if he wanted us to help taste the cookies, Rafael laughed and said “Of course”. But he said he also needed some artwork for the bags. He wondered if we would be up for making some sketches (草图) on paper that he could consider for the label.
We said yes right away. I mean, who wouldn’t want to help the rainforests — and sample some of Rafael’s delicious cookies? Rafael had to leave for a meeting but promised to be back by four o’clock. “Don’t worry about making the pictures perfect,” he said as he left. “Just have fun drawing.”
After we read a little bit about the rainforests, my mom helped get us set up with art supplies and background music. And away we drew! Finally, about five minutes before four o’clock, we decided to stop and look at one another’s work. To our great surprise, Daniel made an incredible drawing. When asked why he never told us he could draw like that, Daniel just smiled. He said he was glad we liked it and that he thought all of ours were really awesome too.
注意:1. 续写词数应为150左右;2. 请按如下格式在相应位置作答。
I liked my drawing, but after comparing it with Daniel’s masterpiece, I felt like the worst artist ever.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________When I looked closely at everyone’s art, I could see what Rafael meant.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________When Is the Mona Lisa Not the Mona Lisa?
How many Mona Lisa paintings do you think there are in the world today? Just the one? I don't think so. The truth is that there are probably many, many Mona Lisa's hanging on walls or in studios. Of course only one was painted by Leonardo Da Vinci but the art of copying is very common in the art world.
In fact it is true to say that artists have been copying from other artists for hundreds if not thousands of years. Traditionally, it was normal for artists to copy other artists' paintings. This was a way of making sure historical, religious and artistic traditions were available for future generations. It was considered normal for an artist in training to practise by copying the work of other great artists.
Historically, the purpose of art was for historical or religious reference. Most of the time no one cared who painted the paintings. This is why we find it difficult to identify the artists behind some of the greatest older paintings. Paintings were usually commissioned by the church or state, not b\ individuals so the name of the artist was really unimportant.
However, from around the 16th century the church and state became poorer and money found its way into the hands of rich individuals. These individuals, as a means of showing their place in society or a knowledge of art, drastically increased the demand for art. Suddenly more and more artists were needed and people competed to buy the paintings of certain individual artists. These created people whose job it was to buy and sell paintings. It also created galleries and auction houses. Suddenly art was a business and at its centre was money.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Risha loved school. However, there was one class Risha worried about more than any other — art. She didn’t know why she just wasn’t any good at drawing, painting, or cutting.
Ms. Clay, the art teacher, stood at the front of the room. “Class, next Friday our school is going to have an art competition.” she announced. Ms. Clay was a great teacher, and Risha liked her a lot. But this announcement made Risha nervous. “Everyone in the school will create a piece of artwork to show in the library. You can use the different types of artwork we have been studying.” Ms. Clay was quite excited when she spoke while Risha found herself sinking lower in her chair.
Risha had the whole weekend to work on her project, but she could not think of anything to do. On Monday, Risha felt frightened, so after school Risha asked Ms. Clay if she could write an art paper instead of doing an art project.
“I understand this project scared you, Risha,” Ms. Clay said. “Just remember, you can create any kind of art you want.” Ms. Clay smiled at her. “Art is a person’s way of expressing his or her feelings — it isn’t always painting, drawing, or cutting. I know you will think of something very creative, and I can’t wait to see it.”
When Risha arrived home, she took out a piece of paper and a pencil. She remembered Ms. Clay’s words. “Art is a person’s way of expressing his or her feelings.” Risha wrote the word “terrified” on her paper. She crumpled (弄皱) the paper and threw it to the side of her desk.
注意:
1. 续写词数应为150左右;
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Then Risha stared at the crumpled ball.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
On Friday, Risha carefully carried her project into the library.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I stood by the windows of our Moscow apartment and looked outside. Old buildings blocked most of the gray winter sky, and the ground below was brown with dirty snow. I noticed a woman crossing the street, her face covered with a thick scarf.
I drew the curtains, turned on the light, and sat down on my bed with a book. The phone rang. After a minute, I heard my mom say, “Sure! Marina would love that. See you soon.”
Who was that? I wondered. And what was I supposed to love? Mama walked into my room and opened the curtains wide again.” Time to get up, Marina. Uncle Gena is taking you to Sparrow Hills.”
“But it's freezing(极冷的) out,” I cried. “You'll have fun,” Mama said.
I shook my head. “Not in this weather.” During the summer, I loved going to Sparrow Hills, eating strawberry ice cream and walking through the park by Moscow State University. But going there on this cold winter morning?
“Get ready,” Mama said. “Uncle Gena will be here soon.” I slowly pulled on a blue sweater.
Too soon, the doorbell rang. When Mama opened the door, Uncle Gena put his backpack down and hugged me. Uncle Gena stood straight and tall. Even in the depths of the long winter, his face was sunburnt from skiing and mountain climbing. He turned to Mama and hugged her, too. “Do you have a travel mug(旅行杯)?”
“Sure,” said Mama. “Would you like tea or coffee in it?”
“Just an empty one.” He put the travel mug in his backpack and smiled at me. “Ready, Marina?”
“I guess.” I buttoned my coat up to my nose and pulled on a warm woolen hat.
We crossed the street and walked down the steps of the station to catch the train to Sparrow Hills. Marble walls and a shiny floor made the station look like a palace of ice. Fortunately, it was warmer in the station. The train rushed into the station, an oil smell filling the air. When the doors opened, we climbed aboard.
注意:
1.续写词数应为150左右;
2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Before long, we arrived at the foot of Sparrow Hills.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
We finally arrived at the top of the hill.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I’d been restless all morning, feeling uncomfortable and not able to put my finger on why. Everything seemed all right. I had a wonderful breakfast with my mother, but I was sitting on the sofa holding the front page of the newspaper and not really reading it. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.
My mother didn’t seem to notice my distraction (分心). She busied herself making a new quilt (被子). I sat and stared at the backyard through the door, trying to figure out what was bothering me. I needed to be somewhere. I didn’t know where, but I knew it wasn’t here inside the house. I headed for the front door and my hand automatically went to my pocket for my car keys. But then something told me I wasn’t going to be driving anywhere. I needed to go for a walk.
I stepped out onto the porch (门廊), wondering where I was supposed to go. Apparently, my legs had an idea because I found myself starting off on one of my normal morning walks. This time, however, I turned north after going one block and walked up a street that I’d never taken before.
After I’d covered a few blocks, I began to hear two female voices, and one of them was crying sharply. A voice in my head said “Hurry” and I found myself running toward the sound. I ran up to a house. Two women stood in front of the house. One of them was dressed in swimwear. She was the one crying.
“My baby!” she shouted, staring down at a little girl lying still on the green grass. “My baby’s dead!” The other woman stood there next to her, holding her hand. She saw me approaching and said, “They were swimming in the backyard. I think her daughter’s drowned (淹死).”
注意:1.续写词数应为150左右;
2.请按如下格式作答。
Hearing this, I remembered that in college I’d been trained in CPR (心肺复苏).
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Time was passing slowly and my heart was waiting in expectation.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I had passed the higher secondary examination when I had to give up a further student. I had to be earning something to help the family budget. I scanned the “wanted columns of newspapers” and put them in applications. One day a letter came to me from an office; I was asked to prepare for an interview on a particular date just at 10 a.m. I was both happy and nervous; I was the only teen. However, I had asked for it, and so I must go.
On that particular morning, I got ready. I put on the best clothes. They were not showy, but they were clean and decent. I took particular care to clean and polish my pair of shoes. Knowing the difficulties of transport, I started with plenty of time on hand.
I reached the office before the appointed time. I went up to the manager’s room and showed my letter to the bearer. He took the letter and asked me to wait in a room nearby. I found there others waiting. One of them was particularly well-dressed. He was quite at ease and it seemed hard for him to notice us. The others were like me, nervous and anxious to get the thing over. Two others came in but I was so very ill at ease that I could only glance at them.
Just at ten, the smart one was called in. He went smartly enough but his shoes creaked, which was not very pleasant. He was so much in haste that he tripped a little on the doormat and therefore shot into the room rather than made a decent entry. My turn came third. I was trembling. I went quietly and entered closing the door carefully behind me. I made a bow and advanced. The manager asked me to be seated. He took out my application and asked me why I was giving up my studies. I explained my family circumstances. All the time I was speaking, he took me in from top to bottom. He remarked that I seemed to be too young for the job. I said that I was willing to learn and to work as hard as possible.
注意:
1. 所续写短文的词数应为 150 左右;
2. 至少使用 5 个短文中标有下划线的关键词语;
3. 续写部分分为两段,每段的开头语已为你写好;
4. 续写完成后,请用下划线标出你所使用的关键词语。
Paragraph 1
“Have you any other plans?” he asked me.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Paragraph 2
He thanked me and gave me his hand to shake.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________