Personal Narrative: The Roller Coaster Of My Creativity
The Roller Coaster of My Creativity
My creativity is like a roller coaster. At the beginning of my life I was riding the roller coaster of my creativity up a very high hill. This was the time when I was just starting to figure out how everything worked and what creativity ment. I found I could express myself through a crayon and piece of paper. I was drawing everything that made me happy. My family was what I mostly drew at this point, because my happiness revolved around them. As I got further up the hill the track kept getting steeper, because I was learning about my creativity very fast. I even started drawing what made me sad, like my best friends getting mad at me or my dog passing away. I could tell my mom how I felt without saying
a word. I finally reached the top of the first hill when I first learned how to paint. I loved everything about it and it made me very happy. I found out I could express the way I was feeling through the different colors of paint. At the time I used mostly pinks, reds, oranges, and yellows. These colors showed those around me that I felt my life was great and it seemed to make them happy for me. There were a few days when I would use blues, greens, and purples. Those were the days that I felt depressed and I felt a little lonely. I never showed these paintings to anyone, not even my parents. I was afraid they would think differently of me if they saw them.
My creativity is like a roller coaster. At the beginning of my life I was riding the roller coaster of my creativity up a very high hill. This was the time when I was just starting to figure out how everything worked and what creativity ment. I found I could express myself through a crayon and piece of paper. I was drawing everything that made me happy. My family was what I mostly drew at this point, because my happiness revolved around them. As I got further up the hill the track kept getting steeper, because I was learning about my creativity very fast. I even started drawing what made me sad, like my best friends getting mad at me or my dog passing away. I could tell my mom how I felt without saying
a word. I finally reached the top of the first hill when I first learned how to paint. I loved everything about it and it made me very happy. I found out I could express the way I was feeling through the different colors of paint. At the time I used mostly pinks, reds, oranges, and yellows. These colors showed those around me that I felt my life was great and it seemed to make them happy for me. There were a few days when I would use blues, greens, and purples. Those were the days that I felt depressed and I felt a little lonely. I never showed these paintings to anyone, not even my parents. I was afraid they would think differently of me if they saw them.