Author: B r e a t h e F o r e v e r PM
The College Application that you do in 8th grade. This was my shot at it. It had to have 500 words in the least.Rated: Fiction K - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Words: 576 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 11-26-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3077736
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Describe the career you picture yourself working one day, why you have a desire to work in this field, and how will you be successful in this career?"
In the future, I can picture myself with a pencil, sitting at a solemn desk, tucked away in a close corner. In only my presence, I would spill out the many shapes of my heart in the form of a shaded drawing, creating a separate universe meant for the world to see, yet never to touch. I wish to be an artist, not for the sake of money, but out of passion; a desire to express yourself.
In this field, I can not only do what I love; I can do it for a living, extending past the limitations of a hobby. Sketches would become works of art, hopefully making those around me elated at seeing my graphite impressions. Even better, I can start my own business with my Mother, helping her stand on her own, giving her comfort in the sanctuary of an Artist's mind and security in the arms of her daughter; A loved one.
And just like a splash of prism crystal on a fabric canvas, I know I will succeed in this journey. Every ounce of love will be pressed onto paper; every drop of imagination in the strokes of carnation, ochre, azure, lavender and a variety of vibrant colors that extend beyond belief.
I remember back when I was 8, I had wanted to follow in the footsteps of my Mother: to be a beautiful artist. But to do that, I had to first fail and try, try again. On my first fail, I couldn't even draw stick figures. Sloppy and dismembered horribly, the only difference between my scribbles and loose strands of string was the fact that mine was on paper, thread being real.
I was depressed from my failed to inherit family skill. I had wallowed in self-pity for days.
5 days later, I decided to stop moping around and to start improving any failure, slowly transforming it into a success.
I spent hours upon hours sitting at a table, bed or desk, just drawing, to the point where I couldn't eat; Just to finish my works of art. This phase goes on and off, once every few days.
And soon enough, I got better at drawing. I'm even thinking about going to an all-around Art School, so I can follow the dreams that are just waiting for me.
Art is not just a drawing, not just a painting; It's all your distress and all your joy transferred to paper. It's a way to enlighten yourself and let out all those bitter or sweet bottled feelings that no one would ever understand and create it into something that would show everything you couldn't explain.
It's my way of making a change. A passive one, I must admit, but I would be making a difference.
They say that everyone sees all the colors of the rainbow… except for one lonely color. I want every person to know the beauty in the silver lining, to see that one insignificant color become something more than forgotten.
Whether the color is breath-taking or just plain abyssal, I'll be revived along with the abandoned hue, and like a rainbow in the mid-summer rain, I just might be remembered.