I look back in time and smile at some of the things I did growing up . . . I particularly remember my mud works – moulding prototype buildings; decked, fenced, roofed plus windows and doors.
They were very real . . . Very different from what other kids my age did too . . . Structures emanating from deep within my young soul made real . . . I brought out the drawings from my heart . . . Giving them life . . . Birthing them.
I could draw . . . For real.
For that singular fact, everyone around me thought out loud:
‘He is gonna be an engineer’
I did everything at that stage real fast too . . . The only one of my siblings that leaped from primary 5 to class 1 . . . It was a feat . . . A family record.
It was to catapult me to the technical arm of my secondary school as well . . . We had the grammar, science and technical arms . . . In line with the dream, my combination was carefully selected . . . Technical drawing, woodwork, metalwork, applied electricity and the likes . . . I stood out tall in the TD classes . . . I wanted to be an architect. It was inborn.
I could draw . . . So awesomely too.
One tree never make a forest I found out . . . TD wasn’t enough for I barely was surviving in the other subjects.
I struggled through secondary school with virtually nothing to show for it . . . Drawing wasn’t enough, but I scraped through anyway.
The pre degree science programme gave me a second chance and shot at a university education . . . This navigated me in the direction of a science course . . . Fisheries and aquatic biology . . . Further opportunities to draw . . . I excelled, infact standing out . . . I drew so well in the practical classes that the lecturers found it unpractical and unbelievable.
4/10 or 3/10 scores . . . Copywork I got for my brilliant works where my mates that traced from the textbooks got 8/10 or 9/10 . . . Very good for copying.
How cruel ?
I got punished for being so so damn good . . . I eventually got chucked too.
I could draw . . . But it got me nowhere.
I fought my way into the social sciences faculty for yet another shot at a degree . . . Downcast . . . Low spirited . . . I trudged on and eventually did it . . . 9 years it took too.
I could draw . . . Real life lessons.
My quest to draw took a new dimension with the advent of social media . . . Specifically my joining fcbk in 2008 . . . I got a totally new opportunity at drawing.
I could paint an entire picture in my head . . . Happenstance, event, occasion . . . Absof.ckinglutely anything and bring it to real life . . . I could see the beginning and the end of any situation . . . Beginning with the end in mind . . . One huge habit I acquired over time.
I could draw . . . With words.
I could build, construct, draw, evolve or frame a story so good and so real that I couldn’t differentiate if it was real or fiction on the long run.
I am an architect eventually . . . Architect of words.
Long and short of all these . . . When I write, what I write and how I write does not categorically depict me . . . What you read about me are not as they seem.
Just so you know . . . I am getting somewhere.
I could draw . . . Absof.ckinglutely anything !
@ O’Shine ORIGINAL