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Descriptive Culture

Decent Essays

A wind weaves it's way through the tall redwood trees of northern california, making it's way, rapid speed, flourishing through an open window. The sun pours into the room, lacing it's rays on every object in it, reflecting warm shades of yellow from the white hospital bed. It's August fourth, 2002, and a new life has been brought into these small suburbs. It depends on her if her life were to be black or white, if her life were to be colorful. Indescribable by simple contrast. As an artist, her culture was very dynamic. She’d soon begin to be influenced by anything, and everything, which would make it harder for her to find her culture. The principles her culture will always follow.
Colors, are static, and never change. But not just any color. A color that describes me, and my culture. Maybe something like, green. Green. It’s a color I always find myself returning to. Even though black is so mysterious, and how I yearned to be mysterious. How I wished I could be excluded, and unread. Pink makes me feel bright, and like life could be perfect. But green has always made me feel at ease. Maybe I find it so relaxing because it reminds me of being in the middle of a foggy forest, with nothing to grasp, no standards to uphold, and nothing to worry about. Green is everywhere, but it remains unnoticed, becomes part of everyday life. It excels at life. Nature gets rid of anything that does not survive, and green survives. I could befriend anyone who doesn’t want this lifestyle, but

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