I have come back to this prompt time and time again. Sitting on my bed, in class, in the kitchen, anywhere really, this prompt will pop into my head and I will sit there for a bit thinking about it and when nothing comes to mind, or it isn’t good enough, I drop the thought.
During my college interview for Syracuse University, the administrator asked me several different questions similar to this prompt. If I were any color in a 64-pack of Crayola crayons, I would be fuchsia because it’s a bright, dark pink. It isn’t obnoxious like hot pink but still cheerful and makes you turn your head a second time upon spotting the color. If I were any part of a car I would be the seat warmer because I like to make people feel comfortable. Given a category, it would be much easier for me to answer this prompt but I am stuck here to figure out what object in all the world describes me. Yikes!
I have come close to figuring out the perfect object, but nothing seems good enough. All the objects I’ve thought about can be replaceable and I’d like to think I’m a pretty irreplaceable person. A white shirt is simple and classy but you can always buy a new one and I’m not always that simple (or classy). A piece of sea glass? Soft and beautiful but broken and worn down by the elements…please, I’m still young. A flower? No, too shallow. Friendship bracelet? Intricately woven, colorful, special, and if it fell off, you’d miss it. Perhaps, but not quite.
And then just today, it hit me. A chandelier. A chandelier can be simple, elegant, warm, complex, or over-the-top gaudy. Maybe I’m not that last one, but I’d like to think I’m a little bit of the rest. A chandelier lights up a room. Metaphorically speaking, I’ve been told I do so as well. Chandeliers are special. One does not just run over to Home Depot and pick up the first one they see. Much thought is put into buying a chandelier. I imagine it’s like a wedding dress or buying a Christmas tree. It picks you at the same time you pick it and once in place, it fits perfectly in with the rest of the space. If your chandelier were to break, you don’t replace it right away. It’s worth at least a week of mourning plus, I’ve heard these things are expensive and ladies, whether you like it or not, we are expensive. You also won’t replace it with the exact same one. Your new chandelier will be a little different and it will take some getting used to. You’ll tell yourself it’s better than ever but at the same time, you’ll look back on your old chandelier with fond memories. “Remember that beautiful chandelier we used to have” you’ll say to your spouse. “It wasn’t too over-the-top. It was the perfect combination of simplicity and complexity and really brightened up this room.”
A chandelier can be a family heirloom passed down from previous generations in hopes of keeping it priceless and eternal. And isn’t that what any and every writer wants: priceless words that can be passed down from generation to generation for all eternity? Shakespeare was quite the chandelier.