I Owe It All to You

Winds flew in every direction. With a tremendous wrath, with a sounding of voices creeping through my window as they embraced me in my sleep. Giving me the shivers to run through my spine. Waking me up! From such a sweet, sweet! Dream. It was a cold and terrifying day as I dressed myself with that old blue jacket of mine, frightened in panic and stress. For my first day of school for the cold and windy fall. I drove off to school with a big question mark on my face. Whether I would make it on time to pick my automotive class or would I sit there in dislike with a sour face on my soul, on the dislike of my classes. On my way to school I approached a fragment of the road where it looked like a horrifying most traumatic accident had happen leaving swirls of tire marks! Pieces of glass! And plastic on the floor, stained with the blood of a poor soul. As I slowly drove by the scene I could not of helped but to notice that my car was acting up. I had gotten a flat from the broken glass on the road. Like if the odds were against me, in a desperate cry for help. I cried for compassion and strength, but most importantly for my automotive class. Pulling over to fix the flat on my car, the cold and windy day fought against me making me take longer than I expect it. Causing my chances of an on time arrival at school to vanish into thin air. I got to school and entered the big red doors to the office asking for my automotive class. To my luck I was left with a sour face on my soul. It had been taken!. Left with no option but to choose the last class remaining. The seventh choice on my list Art 101. As I entered the colorful room of art I was in for the surprise of my life. Where my world would turn in an unparallel universe filled of positive influence, encouragement, persuasiveness and the most awesome job on the face of the planet. It began with a special teacher name Mr. Salas the top influential person in my career. He influenced my life in such a way that never did I had to look any were else. My first day I stepped into his colorful full of life classroom. He noticed my big sour face sitting in the far back corner of the class with a pencil and blank piece of paper. He then walked up to me and said â€Å"If you only knew what worlds await you with that pencil and paper in your hand† he left me with a question in my mind as to what he had meant by that and what was so great in his world that I did not know. Curious to know I asked him what was so intriguing that it had him hooked. With a smile on his face he gently but most kindly and confident he answered, â€Å"Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known†. If you can understand this then you will be free. As the day ended it hit me in the head like a rock thrown by a baseball pitcher. B-O-O-M† I finally understood what it meant. From that moment forth I was a changed man, I considered myself to be the luckiest man to have fallen in that class by chance. My perspective towards life changed in the blink of an eye and I knew what had to be done. I then went to him and said to him, â€Å"I’m free now†. He slowly turned and looked at me wi th a spark in his eye and yield â€Å"G-R-E-A-T†, â€Å"Now we can proceed† he said. From that day on I knew I was in debt with him. Thinking of how some stranger managed to influence my life, my thoughts. Molding me into a new man filled with an encouragement to fulfill my new dreams. As the months passed by Mr. Salas became the second person to my mother who I greatly loved, to encourage my life. He was always there with something positive to say and a hand full of answers to all my artistic problems. As our professional most friendly relationship grew. So did my progress in the art profession. He would show me the strategies and methods to an artist mind. Sculpting me! Piece by piece like if he himself was the great Michelangelo. As the days continued so did the routine and that same man walking through that door with a Hawaiian shirt he loved so much. He would walk up to me every morning and look at my work and no matter how big I had messed up his words were always the same. Filled with encouragement and excitement towards new progress. He would start being persuasive as he seen that my progress was incompatibly high. He realized that my skills were rapidly getting better by the day. Not wasting a moment of the day he would persuade me to do better. He had finally brought out on me the true potential that once was hidden deep inside me. He would make me each day practice more and more, he would call it liberation of the soul. To all I knew It felt like persuasion to do more, but that was just my opinion. He always new how to better me, pushing me to think bigger and deeper to create work of art like no other before. Till one day he entered that room.. With a bigger smile than ever before. In his hand he held a sheet of paper, he walked straight to me and said, â€Å"Guess what? †, â€Å"WHAT!? † I said. â€Å"You have been signed up to compete in an art contest! †. I did not know what to say as I felt plain as a sheet of paper and hot like the beating sun. Not knowing what to answer I smiled and said â€Å"WOW REALLY? . I had finally gotten a grip of my self and was most exited but nervous and pressured at the same time. I then entered the contest and to my biggest surprise I had won first prize. As the years passed by his persuasion was finally over, as he had finish his masterpiece. Thanking him for all the time and work he had dedicated to me. Turning me into the greatest artist i n the country ready to go out and began my solo career. As I searched for my new life as an artist. I began to create some art work to send to the biggest firms of art in the world. I felt sluggish and scared as my great art teacher was not by my side on this one. I called him over an evening night for dinner as we discussed some ideas for the projects I would send to the art firms. He then drastically described what had been the most radical stupendous idea of all time. His idea was filled of crazy ideas and lots of colors I then later that week began to work on this idea he had given me, I started to shape it and color it and twisted as I worked on it more and more I couldn’t help but to not look at it. It was perfect, I sent it in to my first choice firm and within the next day I was called upon to report myself for work. As my body felt like gravity had just came upon it, I rapidly stood up and screamed with excitement at my four walls in my small little house. I was finally a big time artist like Mr. Salas wanted me to be. He was always there for me through the good and the bad never gave up on me. Always pushing me to do better encouraging me when I most needed. If it wasn’t for that first day of school when he said to me that phrase that influenced my life, I would not be the great artist I am today. On my fist day on the job I told everybody at work how I had gotten there. Everybody was amazed at the story giving me six words and only six to say to this great man. The next day I woke up early in the morning it was a bright and warm day. The birds outside sang like never before like the angels themselves were singing. As I drove down the beautiful road full of life blowing through. I arrived at Mr. Salas house. That old yellow house In the one I spent many of my free time practicing my technique. I walked to the door and knocked on it three times. A minute ater the foot steps of someone walking towards me were heard, my heart rushed with excitement and adrenaline at the same time. When the door was finally open their stood the man that never one instant doubt it me. Holding his favorite coffee mug in one hand and in the other his all time favorite newspaper, looking at me with a smile on his face. I stood their blank as I could not of helped but to run the story in my mind of the first day I met this man. When I finally came back to reality all that came out of my mouth were them six magical words, â€Å"I OWE IT ALL TO YOU! †.