Those years of childhood, to learn perhaps a little faster than others and not to follow the current.
While my friends were crying by the backstreet boys or to the distance of the spice girls, I was looking forward to arrive on Saturday to see my uncle and my grandfather. They were going to the jazz club or watch a movie full of magic and art. He was sitting in the living room of the ancient department seminar, with a drinking glass for me and coffee for them, listening to BB King or Koko Taylor. Was that I read over and over these vile papers and after a time at 4 years, and started reading. It was those trips to the park and play on the grass, pick flowers and dream a while.
At 12, when my grandfather died, including a state of shock that led me to become what might be called "Pre teen rebel" with trips to the psychologist and my sudden love for the black and the music of Placebo. It took me a year, because my uncle came to the race and again took me to the world of jazz, blues, rock and especially art.
I started with theater, dance, painting and as a rookie (although I still am) in photography.
At 15, my uncle died, after a month in agony. Was this the moment I decided to continue learning and growing as a woman. I decided to turn everything he knew into something useful, either for anything, even if it meant something very small.
At 16, a month before turning 17, I had to learn to be a mom. Although more than learning to be, one might born, but still not easy.
Today at 19, I can say than that, these Saturdays, the fall, especially back up and have my son by my side, I have become a strong woman, bold and eager to learn and learn.
And yet I still have ....
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