an evolution story
When I was three years old, I told people, “ When I grow up, I’m gonna be a bear .” At age five, I realised that wasn’t quite possible. By the time I turned seven, I had decided I wanted to be a scuba diver/ whale trainer when I grew up, influenced by a video of one I had seen at school. I read books on whales, dreamt of dolphins, and could almost see sharks swimming about in the swimming pool. However, at age ten, I became aware of the fact that I wasn’t brave enough to train whales or swim with sharks, and that it was safer to become a writer. I was already capable of writing poems and devouring large numbers of stories; it wouldn’t be too difficult. At twelve, I felt that my essays didn’t sound nearly as good as my paintings looked, and I was determined I could become an artist when I became an adult. But at thirteen, looking at some of Sadequain’s spectacular murals properly for the first time, I realized my works could never be good enough to be called an artist. Toda