At least once in every person's life, one experiences a creative risk. These creative risks challenge and reform a person. I have been struggling for 4 years, over my aspirations to become an engineer. When I was fourteen, I began a creative risk that has continued throughout my high school years. The summer before my freshmen year of high school, I purchased a white, 1987 Chevrolet Silverado, V10. The truck was in dire need of a facelift. What I thought would be an easy repair, beginning with replacing a window motor, initiated an intellectually frustrating experience. The inter-workings of it all, inspired me to pursue engineering in college. The restoration process quickly turned into an extensive remodeling. Beginning with the painstaking, and redundant process of media-blasting the six layers of exhausted paint; the endeavor was quickly becoming much more than I had initially bargained for. After self-stripping the paint, we sent the truck to the body shop to restore the body to its original form, and paint the truck. Unfortunately, my truck was in the shop for nine months. Though I didn't have the truck in my possession, I wasted no time. I used those 9 months to order all-new interior parts to beautifully restore the antique. Upon the truck's return, I installed the new full interior. I replaced everything from the carpet, to the headliner. Every light, speaker, or gauge had to be wired; it was a very tedious job. After the installations, I reassembled the body pieces that had been taken apart to be painted. At that point, it began to look like a truck again. I drove the truck for a year, before motor problems started to occur. Though it sounds like an problem, I saw the issue as an opportunity to rebuild the mediocre motor to the superior engine I wanted it to be. We sent the motor to a mechanic in a small town. They had previously built NASCAR engines. Bigger pistons, a larger camshaft, and various high-performance parts w