Well, I wrote this for my self-portrait. What do you think?
I draw a painting. Head throbbing, heart palpitating, frown embedded, lifting up a painstakingly heavy paintbrush, pouring darkness on canvas. Slash… diagonal, slash… horizontal, coarse bristles, scarring the impressionable canvas. Blood red, billowing on a battlefield of black, fear of failure, leading cries of criticism, nightmares of incompetence creeping out from the shadows, its long skeletal hands grasping for the warmth radiating off the palette of joyous Yellow and Blue. Quivering hands, diagonal strokes of anger and fury, cubes etched, colors captured within the separation of wax, the ingenious of Batik, segregation of darkness. A runny streak of red manages to escape its confines. Everyone will know. Stop.
The weaving wind wanders through the window and envelopes the darkness, frozen alive. Always present. Obeying calm, omniscient Power, water cleanses the Black paintbrush, soothing the painter’s insecurities. Soft and lovable strokes, definite and purposeful, slowly manage to overpower the shadows with White. Earthen tones crawl from the depths of the abyss, lotuses bloom and laugh with jasmines, Red and White roses nurturing over a new pasture of greenery, shelter from the shadow. Finally, smiling sweetly, blissful Blue embraces the canvas. I drew a painting.
(the structure is messed up, not like in word document... so you might not see the whole interpretation) Its very metaphorical, a lot of symbolism. Enjoy
Its very personal too... so I really hope you appreciate it.
) i had a friend accompany me 
)!