Who in my family was considered to be creative? Were they successful with their creativity? If so, describe their work, if not what happened? What did I glean from these stories?
The only person I considered to be creative was my grandpa, who passed away in 2010. He loved to draw. He would always try to teach me how to, but I never caught on, nor did I enjoy it. Over time I would just draw stick people when he wanted to draw with me. I know that he would be so proud of me for following my dreams. He didn’t go anywhere with his art work, but he was okay with that. The reason why he didn’t go anywhere with his art work is because he had to go into the military, then when he gotten out he had started a family with my grandma. He always said that I need to follow my dreams. He loved that I was into writing. He would try to help me with my spelling. It didn’t really work though, I still suck at spelling, but at least he tried. He always gotten me notebooks and pens. It had gotten to the point that my mother had to tell him to stop because I had so many blank ones, but he never did. I was his world, at the time I had a younger brother, but he was too young to understand what was going on. I was his first and only grandchild until 2006. My grandpa and I still did everything together because there was a 11-year differences between my brother and I. Grandpa still love him, but I was his favorite. The thing I learned from the stories my grandpa told me, was to follow my dreams no matter what. I know that’s what he would want me to do, so, that’s what I am going to do.