<p>As a young adolescent boy at the age of 5 I decided to pick up the hobby of writing. This was such a crucial moment in my life because everything that came out of my mind was fresh and full of youth. I liked to write about anything but I loved art more, and with my imagination I knew I could make my thoughts come to fruition. I didn’t know how to effectively express myself through art so I attended elementary school as a student. I was attending regular classes at school and when usually asked to answer questions my answers were exemplary. One day I astonished my classmates and teacher when asked a simple question about the color of fruit. My teacher asked me “what is the color of an apple?” We were studying the different seasons at the time so my answer could have had many variations. For some inexplicable reason I said blue which caused the entire class to break out into laughter. They may have viewed my answer as wrong but to me the blue apple was real. Now that I look back at my answer I realized the apple was a figment of my imagination and out of all the things I thought of during that day stuck onto me like glue. I believe the apple signified the book I had yet to write.</p>
