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My Bonsai Art

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I hastened to carry all my plants which were grown in chipped bowls and yogurt cans to the sunshine yard. Dandelion, wild daisy, fruit sapling and some plants that I did not know their name sprang up neatly in their pot. They looked so pretty beneath the winter sun. That day, my mother came home with a gentleman. She said he would be my father. This man was of small stature; he was a wealthy photographer. The first time I had a dad. That was great!

He seemed to pay attention at my funny garden. I introduced him about my plants that he was contemplating although they were not strange and overgrew in every path with weeds. He said I had been a poor child.

I moved to my dad's house. It was a spacious house many bonsai plants disposed aesthetically that was out of my imagination. My dad suggested that I should leave my wild plants because they had no value. He was always complaining about the mess I made when I did gardening. I saw his photograph taken in a Japan bonsai garden when he had a holiday. The way people make their plants was very complex and artistic. My dad said each plant had its own soul. Some symbolized for prosperity, beauty or happiness. And my dandelion symbolized for weeds. A thought was suddenly come up in my mind that if I tried arranging my plants more aesthetically, they would be very cute. After that, I started on my experiment. Waiting for the time all my seeds sprouted and the saplings sprang up as mushroom, I "bonsai"-ed my dandelion by plaiting, bending and even tried with the climbing plant. My dad called it my "exclusive" bonsai art. My bonsai plants were not solid as his plants. My dandelion photograph was put besides his collection as the prize for my art work. It was my story when I was a child.

For 2 latest years, I have studied far from my house and rarely come home. Each time I came home, I had no time to look after my wild garden. Studying in a pressure environment made me usually feel being failure. Then I posted a note in my personal facebook page. Some day later, I received a package from my father. There are some photos about my garden each year, a dandelion grain pack and a message. " Dandelion grows up by soil and humid. Its seed sprouts and it decays to provide nutrient for its gemma. If you do not know how to do with your dandelion, it will be just weeds."

I opened the windows in turn and felt the sunshine, thought "Initially, I am as grass. But I will be weeds if I do not know how to care myself and how to spend my life". Failure had its meaning, it came not to ruin me but to help my "gemma" sprout. If a seed always tried to avoid the sun, water because of not wanting to be rot, It might be never grow.

And the most important thing, the way I grow up, the way I shape my life make my worth. As my bonsai dandelion, it grows from waste can. And it still welcome the sunshine, still be beautiful and still have its significance as the way it shape.Weeds never be weeds forever. I form them, specialize them by my dirty hands, in order to make them different. They no longer like an useless and characterless plant and overgrow unaimedly. Their value are built by my external effect and their internal energy. It is the way I create my worth, the way we "bonsai" our life

Then I picked up my rust shovel. Several months later,

I came home with a dandelion-pot with their stem plaited into the heart.



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