The Day My Father Began to Understand the Colors of My World :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

The valet is abundant of color. It has to be. Where else would we find depth and meaning and purpose? Color comes together to get along shape. The vibrancy of blues, reds and yellows all wash over us as we follow through life. Everything ruptures with color, even music with its bright highs and dark lows or language speak with meaning and clarity. Existence is an art and the freedom to express your art a privilege we all hold dear. I discovered the power of reflection when I was young. Crayons and scissors filled my mind. I could manipulate a world of my own on paper, shaping its people. I was king. I knew my subjects. They were spread in 2-demensions before me as they struggled to all escape my mind at once. Although my scribbles neer quite matched the emotion I tangle deep inside me, they were enough. The forms and figures were mine. I created them. I began to know myself as I continued to grow and develop, still I could never reach the ultimate plateau I felt so strongly that I needed. I needed a rising to reach some sort of self-assurance in my ability and my love. I tried to achieve acceptance once. Although I was young, I remember it well. I had spent all day in coach creating another larger-than-life world. As my teacher rattled off times tables and division, I furiously created an eight-year-old masterpiece through a storm of colored pencils and erasers. As I perfected each tree in my landscape, I began to feel powerful. I knew what it was to create and to be good all I needed was for someone to show confidence in my work. My mother picked me up, but I didnt trade this opportunity to show her. My picture was special. It deserved the ultimate unveiling. I was tone ending to show it to my father. Dad came home unhappy, as usual, and ready for dinner. I knew fail than to involve him yet. As I ate my unnoticed meal, I could precisely hold my excitement. After dinner, I ran to my room and unfolded my work along its awake creases. I walked slowly to his chair, carefully and excitedly balancing my masterpiece in my hands. Look, Dad, look at what I did. I did it today in school all by myself. He turned slowly in his chair, roll because his connection with CNN had been broken.