Exhibition Projects 1: We no longer need to fear arguments, confrontations or any kind of problems with ourselves or others.

The text should contain 250-500 words and 3-12 images. Between the preparation and the work,the apprenticeship and the actual dealing with a task or an art,there comes, in the experience of many young men,a period of uncertainty and wandering which is often misunderstood and counted as time wasted,when it is, in fact, a period rich in full and free development.（内文250-500个单词、图片3-12张，有开头有结尾，中间有层次感）

The Lane at Dusk

When the sun bled its last orange hue over the roof tiles, the old lane softened into a watercolor wash. A grandmother fanned her grandchild on the stone step, while a cat curled on a wooden bench, its purr blending with the clink of a teacup from a half-open window. The air smelled of osmanthus and stir-fried greens, wrapping the lane in a quiet warmth that felt like a hug from the day’s end.

The Weathered Pier

The wooden pier jutted into the sea, its planks grayed by salt and wind, each crack holding stories of tide and twilight. A fisherman mended his net in the shadow of a rusted buoy, while waves lapped at the piles, their rhythm slow as a lullaby. When seagulls glided low, their cries tangled with the creak of the pier, it felt like the sea was humming a song only old things could understand.

The Potted Orchid

On the windowsill, the potted orchid bloomed quietly, its pale petals curved like folded silk. When sunlight slanted through the glass, it gilded the edges of the flowers, turning the faint fragrance into something tangible—soft as a breath, light as a thought. Even on rainy days, the orchid held its posture, a quiet reminder that beauty doesn’t need noise to be felt.

The Old Bicycle

Propped against the wall, the old bicycle was draped in a thin layer of dust, its frame chipped, its bell silent for years. But the wicker basket still held a dried dandelion, and the tire tracks on the floor (faint, but stubborn) told of days when it carried a child’s laughter, a market’s groceries, a summer breeze that tangled the rider’s hair. It wasn’t just metal and rubber—it was a box of light from the past, tucked in the corner.

The Mountain Mist

When dawn brushed the mountain, mist rolled up the slopes, wrapping the pines in a white veil. It pooled in the valleys like spilled milk, and when the wind stirred, it drifted through the trees, turning the forest into a place of soft edges and half-seen beauty. A bird called, and its voice seemed to float on the mist, as if the mountain was speaking in a language made of air and quiet.

The Night Bakery

Down the quiet street, the night bakery glowed like a lantern, its window fogged with the steam of fresh bread. The baker, his sleeves rolled up, slid a tray of croissants into the oven, the buttery scent curling out to wrap the sidewalk. A late traveler paused to buy a loaf, and when the door chimed, the warm air spilled out, turning the cold night into a moment of sweet, fleeting joy.

The Window Sill Fern

The fern on the windowsill unfurled new fronds, their edges curled like tiny green fists. When rain tapped the glass, the leaves glistened with droplets, turning the dim corner into a little jungle of soft, quiet life. Even when the room was empty, it breathed—slow, steady, a reminder that growth doesn’t need an audience to keep going.

The Alley Grocer

The alley grocer’s cart was a patchwork of color: jars of candies glinting, bundles of dried herbs tied with string, and a basket of oranges that smelled like sunshine. The old man behind it wiped the counter with a checkered cloth, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes when a child pointed at a lollipop. When the wind picked up, the paper flags strung above fluttered, turning the cart into a little island of warmth in the narrow lane.

Agitation and ferment of soul are inevitable in that wonderful moment.There are times when agitation is as normal as is self-control at other and less critical times.The year of wandering is not a manifestation of aimlessness, but of aspiration,and that in its ferment and uncertainty youth is often guided to and finally prepared for its task.