The Calligraphy Event

The Calligraphy Event 

  With my heart beating heavily, I swallowed hard, making a weird sound in the throat. Me and my friends who writes Chinese calligraphy were standing at the back of a huge brownish door, waiting for the judge to call. I kept asking them are they nervous, but when they asked me back, I nodded. This is the third time I went to a serious calligraphy event. We were all pretty nervous at that time, and we all knew that the other competitors studied much longer than us. I was extremely worried.

Just when the judge shouted the two words, come in, I could feel the sweat had wetted my two fists, and it wasn’t comfortable at all. I pushed my best friends in front, who practiced calligraphy with me since the day we started, and whispered: “Hey! Lets sit together at the back row” We slowly jogged towards the back of the competition stage, and settled our papers, inks and brushes in place. We got one hour to finish our piece, and I was already shaking.

Suddenly, a hand patted on my back, it was Elaine.

“It will be ok.”

She is always calm; I gave her a warm smile back. I looked around and took a deep breath, I pressed down the brush.

I smoothly moved the brush, left and right, forwards and backwards, points and lines. About 40 minutes later, I breathed out and carefully moved the brush out of the way just in case the calligraphy ink on the brush drops on my fine piece of writing. I grabbed the tiny box beside me, then opened it, and took out a simple, but delicate stamp.  I stood up, but still bent down, tapping on my friends’ shoulder: “Are you finished?” Well, as usual, they answered back with a smile. Other people might think it is just an encouragement, but I noticed what that means, they’re all waiting for me. “Ok Ok!” I murmured in Chinese, “N ĭ   B ú    Y à o   Lă o   Sh ì   Cu ī   Wŏ” (I’m finishing it! Don’t you ever challenge me on time managing!)” We always joke on each other, though it was such a serious event. I stamped the red stamp onto the calligraphy paper, and my piece was done.

With the calligraphies in hands, we walked towards to the long line of competitors waiting to get scored. My legs were shaking quickly. I tapped my foot; waiting till our turn to get scored. Eventually, I stepped onto the scoring stage, in front of the judges. I lifted my Chinese calligraphy up, sweated in hands. After the scoring, I went to the crowd, and I looked at the scoring board. The highest score was 93 at that time, it was extraordinarily hard to get such high score, but when I turned my head back, 89.5.

My brain stopped working for about 2 seconds, was it good? Or bad? I have no idea. 89.5 was a silver medal, I was fine about that. But still, we were a little depressed. 88.5, 89, 89, 91, these were the scores that different judges gave me. One of the judges seemed harsh and strict, he kept on staring at me, and I stared him back. I care about people’s eye contacts, and I hated people staring at me with harsh emotions.  Feeling dejected, I walked out as the crowd of parents cheered for other children.

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel jealousy or anger in mind like I always did when I was younger. Instead, I felt happy for the people who got golden medals. I learned, and I grew, throughout the years I studied calligraphy. So maybe the next time I saw that judge in a calligraphy event, I would be the first one to stare at him before he stares at me.