第二节（满分25分）
阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。续写的词数应为150左右。
To anyone else, it was just a simple white cotton bag, but to me, it was a canvas（孑由 111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 comer of the bag and with the other dipped 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, talking through town, Ifound some white cotton bags in a store window.
Paragraph 2:
The next month, Charlie and I visited the Louvre Museum in Paris.
Paragraph 1:
One day, walking through Ifound some white cotton bags in
a store window. What interesting canvases they could be! I bought a few and began painting on them. And since then everything had started to change. There was no shortage of inspiration as I held my brush. My mother sent some of my pieces to her fiends. She came home with the proudest smile and told me that they all liked them. Seeing others' appreciation on my art made me feel never frustrated.
Paragraph 2:
The next month, Charlie and I visited the Louvre Museum in Paris. Of course we took along my cotton bag. For two hours, we wandered in the museum. There was so much to see, including the Mona Lisa. But every few minutes, somebody stopped me. They asked me where they could buy that bag. I had to tell them it was my work. It may not be a "Mona Lisa", but that doesn't matter.阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。续写的词数应为150左右。
To anyone else, it was just a simple white cotton bag, but to me, it was a canvas（孑由 111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 comer of the bag and with the other dipped 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, talking through town, Ifound some white cotton bags in a store window.
Paragraph 2:
The next month, Charlie and I visited the Louvre Museum in Paris.
Paragraph 1:
One day, walking through Ifound some white cotton bags in
a store window. What interesting canvases they could be! I bought a few and began painting on them. And since then everything had started to change. There was no shortage of inspiration as I held my brush. My mother sent some of my pieces to her fiends. She came home with the proudest smile and told me that they all liked them. Seeing others' appreciation on my art made me feel never frustrated.
Paragraph 2:
