I wrote this 100-words exercise on August 14, 2010:
I read a news story today about a six-year-old artist being hailed as a prodigy. This intrigues me. The watercolor paintings I saw were quite beautiful, well beyond what a "normal" young child could do, and I admit I was somewhat envious that this boy had already found his talent while I, so much older, feel like I'm still flailing, still searching for a clue that will lead me to the person I'm meant to become. I don't paint, but I do write, and I can only hope to create pictures as beautiful as his with my words.