Many vivid memories have been made in my art academy, and this is probably because I enjoy its cozy atmosphere, and art itself. The academy is located on the third floor of a small building in my neighborhood. It takes a ten-minute walk to get there from my house. The building is a white, modern building. There is nothing peculiar or unique about it, just a plain building. I used to race my dad up the stairs; my dad, who has longer legs than me, used to win most of the time. When I opened the door, classical music always welcomed my dad and me into paradise. I could smell the scent of acrylic paint, very strong but still very pleasant.
As I walked in, Zico, a black labrador, always ran toward me eagerly. Though he was almost as tall as me, he was very friendly and gentle, in contrast to his appearance. I then rubbed his back. I greatly enjoyed the texture of his back: fuzzy and smooth, without any tangles at all. Then, I would give him a snack, and he would devour the whole thing in 3 seconds. My teacher would then tell me to come and Zico would go into his doghouse and sleep as if nothing had happened.
To the right of the doghouse, there is an enormous table about the size of 10 large canvases put together. The table was always messy with traces of paint; even the chairs were covered with paint. On the table, there was a piece of paper and a pencil placed on it. The pencil was very sharp like a knife. The tip of the pencil was fully capable of hurting someone. My teacher always used to give me a topic and let me be creative with my art, and I started drawing. My pencil moved around with freedom; it looked as if it was dancing on paper. It was wonderful to draw with soft piano music ringing in my ears faintly. I would draw while chatting with my teacher and other kids in the academy. This was one of the few times when I could enjoy and be free. It was like paradise.
Behind the table are huge shelves packed with paint and other materials I could use. It is like a buffet with millions of materials to select from. This was one of my favorite places in the academy since it was so fun and interesting to look at and choose from. On one shelf, there are objects such as clips, furry pom-poms, and even pasta. I often enjoyed playing around with the materials; the texture was very interesting. Some were soft and furry, while others were sharp. I remember being scared of the razor-sharp pins on one of the shelves. Next to the objects was paint. There were many different types of paint: watercolor, acrylic paint, and spray paint. On the top shelf, there were pens and colored pencils of different colors. The shelf was a rainbow, with thousands of different colors.
Deeper into the building, there is a small room for exhibitions. I often stayed there when I was waiting for my mother to come. The walls are painted as white as snow, and the ceiling is blue with clouds on it. Therefore, whenever I examined the ceiling, I felt like I was outside, staring at the sky. In this room, the teachers often created a short and little exhibition for each of their students. They hung up all of the student’s artworks on the walls. Even I had an exhibition once, and I felt proud, seeing all of the pictures on the walls. Each wall was fully covered with my art. I was shocked to see how much I’ve accomplished and improved.
Before I could explore the whole exhibition, my mother would arrive to pick me up. I would leave the building, waiting for the next Sunday to come again. My art academy has given me a good experience and would have gifted many other children with joyful memories.
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