I sit on the ground next to the rainbow of colors that touches a sea of polluted waters. The room grows still as I take out my medium of the day and begin to apply my idea. Maybe later I'll fully commit to the design in mind. As the pencil moves in my hand like its moving itself, my wrist is in control, not me. I begin to see the picture coming together. Nice. It looked very basic, but all rough sketches do. Ill clean it up with line work later. The repetitive feeling of line, after line, after line, was very comforting. Suddenly the outside world disappeared. The small humming from the neighbors mowing their lawn faded into complete silence. It was just me, and my pencil in a blank open world ready for creating. My pencil lead the way adding small details to our newly claimed land. When the world was fully there I looked around. The world was so inviting. My pencil introduced me to one of my oldest friends and companions. My paint brush, whom has brought all of his friends for the building of this world. We got straight to work. All the same details defined themselves. The rainbow of colors went into the world I created like soldiers walking onto a battlefield to fight the blank canvas. My brain, not even my hand was in control. The small lines, the bright colors, all brought to life. With every brush stroke the small pieces of this tiny little world came together. The shadows made it tangible. Like if you stepped foot into the world it would continue on past what the canvas sees. The colors blending together like compromising for space. A place where every "mistake" is just a new prespective or detail. Making this world unique and its own. With the last stroke of the brush I stare at the canvas. Its like a looking through a camera to another universe. But I'm back to reality. I can hear the small squeals of little kids playing outside this time. I smile before sealing my little world in with mod podge. The only way my little world can be forever. I smile at the thought my little rainbow soldiers battle coming to a winning end. I get off the floor and put away my paint brush companion friends. "Until next time".
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I English Assignment I did and fell in love with
Poetrya essay about a fimilar event, but descriptive and using figurative language and making it unique