It is already the second week after I come back from my trip to Hong Kong. Today is Saturday. It is a sunny afternoon in Santa Barbara. Santa Barbara is quoted as “the American Riviera; the city is indeed breathtaking from its picturesque hills to its wide sandy beaches and dolphin-filled Pacific waters.” Unlike Hong Kong, the sky is so blue and so cloudless here. It is windy outside. The wind blows on my face. I breathe. The air is so fresh. I listen and I look. The leaves are rustling and shaking their bodies. I turn my head and stare at another tree and I see birds are flying around that tree. I wonder whether or not they are playing hide- and- seek. I want to be a bird, flying in the blue and cloudless sky, experiencing the feeling of freedom in the air.
Just like other mechanical engineers, I like Mathematics and Sciences, but I also like Arts and Designs. I like drawing very much. Therefore, I indulge myself by putting my work aside and to be by myself for one day. I feel like drawing today; I want to draw the bright glorious sun with golden rays, I want to draw the beautiful boundless sky, draw the tree with large leaves with “rims” like a quiche plate and painful spines on the outer edges of the leaves, and I want to draw the incredible looking birds that are singing on the tree. So, I return to my room, trying to get some drawing paper and color pencils. I pull the first drawer on my desk, there was nothing. I check the second drawer, the third, and the last drawer, but I cannot find any drawing paper and color pencils. I stop. I concentrate and think about where I would put them at. “OH SHOOT!” I left them at home. It is about a half past four.
I drive my car to State Street to see whether or not I will be able to get some paper and pencils. I get into my car. No. It is my dad’s car; it is old and smelly. I can still see a mark on the middle of the carpet where my younger brother once vomited . I hate driving this piece of junk. I drive the car into a parking lot somewhere underneath the Paseo Nuevo, a mall-like shopping center.
It is already five o’clock in the evening. I see the sun is still shining, the trees are still waving their hands, and the grass is still shaking their heads side to side. I do not hear any rustling sound from the trees and singing voices from the birds, but I do hear the horns, the sound from running engines, the sound from walking and running, and the sound from the traffic signals. Unlike the outside of my house, it is very dusty and noisy here. I cross the street and enter the shopping center. There are so many people, boys and men in fancy T-shirts and machine washed jeans, and girls and women in beautiful dresses and shiny shoes. I pass the Banana Republic, window-shop outside the Urban Outfitter, and finally enter into the Macy’s. Everything is on sale. I see girls are trying on make-up: Lancome, SK-II, Dior, and Clinique. Boys are busy trying to find their best fitting and good looking clothes and jeans: Levis, Polos, Diesel, and Puma. I exit Macy’s and try to find a store where I can buy some paper and pencils.
This is just like a scene from a movie. It is five thirty-five and it is getting cold now. The wind blows through my shirt. I feel a breeze blowing through my body. I stay under the sunshine; it feels so comfortable and it is warm rather than hot. I look around and see whether there will be a store where I can buy the things I need. A very fancy car passes by and catches my attention. “Ayah!” I feel like I hit something and I look around. A Chinese girl is on the floor. I see that her left hand is bleeding, so I ask her whether or not she feels alright. She does not answer my question, but she asks me whether I have a band-aid. “Her voice is so sweet and gentle,” I say in my mind. Then, I get out a band-aid and hand it to her--- she tries to put the band-aid on her wound, but she just can’t do it--- it is out of reach. So, she asks me to put the band-aid for her. She raises her left hand towards me while her eyes are staring at me at the same time. I hold her left hand with my right hand. Her hand is as white as milk and as soft as candyfloss. While I put the band-aid on her wound, she moans, “Ayah.” She is killing me; her voice is so cute. She then stands up. She is really short; her head cannot even reach my shoulders. She raises her head. Her shiny hair is waving in the air, her glowing eyes are sparkling, and her watery lips are shimmering. She is so beautiful. I feel that my face is full of blood, so I try to turn my crimson face away from her. “Cherry,” someone screams. She picks up her bags quickly and passes me without saying good-bye.
I look at the sky; it is getting dark. As I am walking to Abercrombie, I see that a fierce dog with his mouth widely open is marching with his owner. The saliva dripping down the dog’s mouth. The owner is a punk in a black tight shirt and pants, Converse shoes, and piercings and tattoos all over his body. He wears heavy makeup, black lipstick and eye shadow. He seems to be chatting with a homeless man next to him, “In order for the dog to stop breeding, you gotta clip his nuts. HAHAHA,” the homeless guy shouts. The punk does not reply to him. He just smiles and walks away.
My stomach is calling me; I am so thirsty and hungry, but yet I do not find the stationary store. While I am wandering around State Street, I figure that everyone comes here for some reason; some come here for shopping, eating, chilling, and I am here to get my drawing materials. I walk and keep walking. I see four Chinese children passing by me. They are young girls who are at around the age of eleven. I look at them more closely. They all have exciting expressions on their faces. Also, they are busy exchanging something with each other. They are exchanging cartoon pencils. I stop them and I ask, “Where do you get these from?” They look at me and they look kind of scared. Maybe I was too excited, maybe I raise my voice a little bit, or maybe they are sacred because I highlight my hair in gold, kind of looking like a gangster. They reply to me very rapidly, “There,” and run away. I ask myself, “Do I look really that scary?” While I am questioning myself, I find the Chinese store.
The store is old and smelly; it is just like my dad’s car. First, I try to find the drawing paper and color pencils on my own. However, while I am trying to pull out a stack of papers in a box, a big black spider jumps on my hand. You can imagine how you will react if there is a thumb big spider that jumps on your hand. Indeed, I drop the stack of papers and swing my hand hardly to the floor. The cashier looks at me and laughs. He looks like a Mexican. He is an old man in a blue hat, grayish hair and beard, and dark skin. I do not know what he is thinking of; how he can still laugh while he sees such a big spider. It is just ridiculous. I am so nervous and mad, so I give up looking for the papers and color pencils. Instead, I ask the old man to get them for me. He walks into the mess and grabs me a stack of new drawing papers and a bunch of color pencils. They only cost about five dollars, they are so cheap. I cannot stand the smell of that store and the strange old man, so I walk out the store just after I get the change from him. Before I leave the store, he says, “You will come here again, kid.” He is too weird, so I ignore him. After I step out of the store, I open the bag and try to figure out what kind of color pencils will be there: black, gray, brown, green, red, orange, yellow, purple, blue, and white. I have everything I need to get my drawing done. I am so happy. I raise my head and I look at the sky. The sky is no longer in blue and the sun is no longer in bright yellow. The sky is turning into light orange and the sun is turning into red. I feel so sad because I lost a chance of drawing a picture of a sunny day with the trees and the birds. I stop and look at the sky again. Something comes up in my mind; I can draw a picture of sunset instead. I close the bag and I start running. My first journey ends right here and my second journey starts right in this moment. I try to run to the parking lot and get into my car as soon as possible, so I can get back to my room before the sun turns to flamboyantly red.