To pinpoint a single reason as to why I’m drawn to artistic expression would prove almost impossible, as it goes beyond my deepest memories. Chronicled by photographs and simplistic home videos, my infancy was filled with marvelous activities that I can attribute to my development as a person today. These activities ran the gamut, including everything from a little me playing with paint and turning into a jubilant blue tornado of joy, to watching a film and being asked to discuss the “moral of the story”, as my parents always encouraged. In addition to the guidance of my family, I think that the determining factor in my interest for the arts over other activities of leisure was an incredible sense of curiosity that I keep to this day, and that sometimes can be seen as liability.

As I progressed through the ranks of boyhood, my mother made an even greater effort in teaching me how to read before starting a meaningful school period. These efforts would later culminate at the age of 4, when I was able to read my first few words. Needless to say, I would only progress and become increasingly more interested in what people had to say and had left as a legacy on paper. Similarly to reading, writing soon followed my education process and before I knew it, my limited dexterity and left-handedness was guiding me to form complete sentences after an adequate practice routine. Assignments where we had to create a story, or a fable became my fascination; they kept me entertained and sheltered the times when waiting for my parents to get home after long nights of work became unbearable, or when the most primitive thoughts of solitude and sorrow chewed away at my brain.

Justifiably so, not everyone around me understood my enthusiasm behind bringing life to ideas, worlds, and emotions on the paper, especially my classmates. We were encouraged to share our stories with the class, and while some thought mine were enthralling (as much as a story written by a 7 year old can be), others did not share any sympathy or find any value in them. However, I feel like this helped me understand the power of sharing and connecting with others through narrative. If something I wrote can make you immerse yourself enough in the different reality pictured in the text, and perhaps even interest you in the process of its creation, then that’s a high for a writer I want to hit constantly. Discourse and conversation are two of the main elements that comprise our perception of reality and our understanding of any experience we might have, making them essential for creative processes and personal development.

In the present, writing for Odyssey mildly fills this need for escapism, expression and connection; as I get to interact with other fantastic writers with wildly different, but equally interesting visions of the world. Of course, I have other side projects that are creatively taxing and wonderful, but inconsistency and life can get in the way. Nevertheless, that is a different article, for a different day.

I will leave you with a "tease" (that's what we call it in the biz), of what you can expect from the second part of this article series:

When the time came for me to grow, during the twilight of my grade school education, my best friend at the time started showing an inclination for pop-punk music.