A Thousand Words

A picture is worth a thousand words. I believe in pictures. I believe in capturing the moments you cannot put into words.
When I was a small child my favorite person in the world passed away, my Uncle Joe. Thinking since he was no longer with us everything about him would eventually disappear; his clothing, his scent, his presence, etc. I also thought the image of him in pictures would soon be faded like everything else did. Everything soon seemed erased, although he was still present in my mind, dreams, and the pictures I had of him. Pictures were the only one of the three that was considered proof because I could physically hold a picture. Pictures enabled me to prove to myself that this amazing person truly did exist. I kept a picture of him everywhere I went, I felt like I froze time and contained the happiest moments of my life with me everywhere I went. When I was having a crummy day I’d gaze down at the picture that I kept in my pink princess necklace and it’d inspire me.

People all look at images differently. Pictures pull in different feedback. Words can’t be interpreted in as many ways as pictures. Sometimes I draw a picture of my feelings when I’m upset, it looks like a hidden message and it’s meant to. I’m extremely private about my feelings. It’s neat to release my feelings without directly blurting them out. It’s very stress relieving. I believe if you feel strongly about something it’s hard to release those feelings to the public. Under my bed I have a secret notebook I’ve kept for the longest time; it’s a small ratty old thing. Torn pages, ripped cover, and it’s a dull gray color. To most people my notebook would be looked upon as trash, but to me my notebook’s a treasure. The notebook contains scribbles and sketches that I doodled when I was having a horrific day. When I say horrific day I mean days were I can’t put into words. Such as the day I got punched in the face by a man twice my size, the day my Uncle Joe died, or the day my mother got a life changing surgery. I look back at my doodles when I’m having a semi-sucky day and I think to myself life could be worse. I think to myself these events made me stronger. I think to myself I survived. I believe in pictures.

Throughout high school I’ve took four art classes. I’m very passionate about my art and I deeply enjoy drawing. Art can be motivating; art makes you more in touch with your inner feelings. Dark, evil colors shout out personality. Sunny, light colors reflect personality as well. Picasso is a very well known artist; his work is extraordinary. He paints peculiar, jumbled up shapes and symbols. To feel his paintings inside of me gives me the goose bumps. His paintings pull me in. I find Picasso to be brilliant and interesting, I can tell this just by looking at his art work. You can absorb a different feeling from pictures.

My family purchased our house when I was nine years old. I instantly fell in love with this new bare house. I decorated my room with snow white furniture and my walls were the lightest pink, the room fairly expressed my girlie personality. I felt like I was officially were I was always meant to be. Unfortunately my new elementary school was a downfall. I was awkward. I didn’t know how to socialize with my new peers. I found school to be really harsh; I’d cope by fleeing to my “private get away” straight after school, my tree house. Beside from my bed room my tree house was a lovely perk of my new house. It was awesome to rough-house high above the ground, and look down like I was on the top of the world. Since I was so young and in love with princesses, I’d dream I was a princess in my tree house looking down at my kingdom. It was the most refreshing place I’ve ever encountered still till this day. I remember a picture of a moon and a sun that covered the walls of the tree house. I’d analyze these pictures every day. I was forever told that the sun came out during the day, and the moon came out at night and that they need intervened. The picture puzzled me. It enlightened me.

Sun and moons are known opposites. It was nice seeing two opposites being side by side with each other. I filled my tree house with pictures of my Uncle Joe. Even thought we’re in opposite worlds (heaven and earth) were still side by side with each other.
My mother one told me, “The taller you are the closer you are to heaven.”
In my tree house I’d be pretty high up. I believe in pictures.





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