My Eulogy Essay - 1984 Words

Recently, an extraordinary person offered me the perfect muse to energize my stagnant existence, and therefore, its paramount I have a chat with my mother, Whitney West. Immediately upon arriving at Whispering Breeze, her country estate, I’m escorted out to the veranda by Franà §ois, her butler and since my mother sat alone, she requested I join her for lunch. While we enjoyed the repast, Lady Josà ©phine and Sir Bonaparte, my mother’s, two Doberman pincers, entertained us with an aggressive game of tug of war with a frayed piece of rope and within moments the rope snapped in half. At that point, Sir Bonaparte quickly ran off with his piece of the rope and a furious Lady Josà ©phine chased after him, demanding he relinquish it.†¦show more content†¦She even growled when I told her Tommy would be my mentor during a three year apprenticeship program and she snickered at the notion that I had the potential to be-come an ink icon, because of my freehand techniq ues. Before, I could continue, she contemptuously lambasted me with every negative adjective in her vocabulary and her favorite, ‘foolish’ she used redundantly. Indignantly, I replied, â€Å"Oh, Whitney, it would’ve been ‘foolish’ to turn down Tommy’s gracious offer. Maybe you’re not aware of the Ink Revolution rapidly moving forward. In consequence of it, remarkable artwork no longer has to hang in stuffy museums, out of sight, and viewed by a few. Now, it can promenade down the boulevards, and seen by the multitudes, be-cause, so unlike Michelangelo, who used a brush and paint on a canvas or ceiling, a tat artist uses a tattoo gun and ink on every inch of human skin.† Maybe I should’ve toned it down a bit, since my mother’s face turned a repulsive shade of green just before she shrieked, ‘Alea jacto est’ and promptly left the veranda. After her melodramatic display, I gave up and left. On my drive hom e, her comment, the die is cast, gnawed at me, since it meant her alter-ego Julius Caesar had crossed the Rubicon, the point of no return. And suddenly, I have a flashback of the night myShow MoreRelatedMy Eulogy Essay903 Words   |  4 PagesMy brother is not just someone I share blood with but someone I can rely on and look up to. Patrick, my seventeen-year-old brother, has been by my side since I was a little baby. The earliest memories I have are of Patrick and I running around in our backyard laughing and playing. As he grew older, I began to look up to him. He was everything I aspired to be: intelligent, passionate, and athletic. Patrick always seemed to know what he wanted in life, and I admired how he chased down his goals. ThereRead MoreMy Eulogy Essay2027 Words   |  9 PagesSunday school that morning (I was too shy). My family was taking up the full row of chairs. I was sitting in-between my mother and father, as I always did. 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I have saved my papers individually as I corrected them to show the progressions. In my argumentative essay, Income Inequality: Extinction of the American Dream, I used