Narrative
Mexico has a different culture that captivates me and tourists, who have the opportunity to experience it south of the American border. I see painted walls, expressive tones of artists, which reminds me of my destination. I finally arrive to the metal gate on the small street of my childhood neighborhood with many memories floating across the grasslands of my mind. I enter into my fathers patio and soak in the anticipation of seeing him. I walk up to the door with a sign that reads please knock before entering. Then I knock on the tall white wood door. My father, an average height man with black curly hair and rays of silver streaks, and soft brown eyes greets me with a huge smile on his aging face.
After a warm welcome I scan the room and see the room I stand in is my childhood sanctuary. There was a queen size water bed with dark leather covered frame in the middle of the room, and decorated walls that I painted with my father as a child and teenager. The walls were decorated with and Aztec theme; there were Aztec temples and pyramids, people, and landscape. The room colors were very vibrant and painted with earth tones of brown, red, and turquoise. I love this room because it was a special project between myself and my father of whom I love dearly. At the foot of the bed was a painting of an Aztec woman carrying calla lilies my favorite flowers- and wearing a white gown with Aztec embroidery showing tattoos and a slight smile. Then there are the pyramids with smoky caldrons and incense. At the foot of them are towns people who are ready to embark on a journey towards the top to meet their sacrificial destiny. Not only is my Aztec room filled with paintings, but memories that I will cherish and an experience I would like to share with any future children, to inspire their imagination as mine was.