Wizz_Wendy
Dec 13, 2010
Undergraduate / UBC Supplements: "The story of The Last Supper" + "Tutorship in Dabie Mountain" [4]
How do they sound?
I'm just a little bit worried about both essays being too abstract. Is that a little bit vague and hard to follow? Should I add more clarification or change my style of narration to make it clearer? Also, any extra fat that I could trim, cuz I'm running out of word count, although still within the charater limit.
I'll post both essays and any critique is welcomed and much appreciated!!
Describe an educational experience, in school or out, that has changed your view of the world (approximately 250 words/ 1750 characters maximum);
To begin with my own story, the story of The Last Supper must be told.
The painting now resides quietly in a monastery in Milan, with a companion, an art restorer, who has been there for 25 years. At the time she arrived, it was opaque and colorless, dismantled by the inhumanity of war and layers of inconsiderate paint. It was hopeless in its condition; the artist himself would have felt the same if he had had the chance to stand at her position. All that she did-strip away flakes of paint, apply to it a mild layer of watercolor, and highlight its original details-was not enough to bring it back to life. But she continued with her mission, unruffled.
Watching the story in a documentary, I reflected upon my own. I thought about every piece of glorious art I'd seen, whether in a film or a gallery, and its individual history of "destruction" and "restoration". I remembered the singer I loved, dead, of cancer, young and hardly known. I contemplated the ending of One Hundred Years of Solitude, and the shattered memory of the BuendÃa family. I lamented the accident of my teacher-she lay down at the intersection, breathing heavily with blood bubbling out of her nose.
Wild ruminations, people call them. But I've never escaped from the gravity of such thoughts. To see life in terms of its end, to look at beauty in terms of its destruction, to appreciate light in terms of its eclipse, and to value well-being in terms of its pain and suffering make it all the more profound when I look at myself and the world around me.
That's why I value art, history, culture, and all that we can contribute to the conservation of bits of evidence of our very existence.
Describe the one activity listed above which tells the most about what kind of student you will be. (approximately 250 words/ 1750 characters maximum).
P.S.: I'm really worried about this piece, seems like the story lacks context and tell me if it is somewhat cliched. Remind me, also, if it is OFF-TOPIC.
She, a first-grade girl in my English class, gazed at me, her approaching hand gripping a colored paper heart.
"Is this for me?" Stunned and unable to speak, I was immobile-but I had to leave then.
"Bingo," she said with pride, turning to the other kids who ran all the way to the gate.
"Yes, Teacher, we learnt how to fold it after we had opened yours." Every little hand unclenched, a paper heart inside.
Earlier, I was slightly annoyed when their hands squeezed into my box, competing for the last candy. I was shocked when they followed me reading, in halting but almost deafening voices-"one, two, three ..." These moments summed up their image in my mind: naughty kids.
But this last moment of my tutorship in Dabie Mountain, an impoverished region in Anhui Province, offered me insights into them.
A box of candy could spur their curiosity just to have a taste of it; a list of new words would lead them to read in their loudest voice, to grasp it, and to carve it into their mind; even a little paper heart as a reward for response in class would become their obsession-they studied it closely to see the pattern and reproduced it with a page from the textbook.
I could have scolded them for having torn pages off their precious books, and could have had every reason to dismiss their ways of doing things, on the grounds that I was ten years older.
Yet, it is these years that separated us that made me rethink my formulaic ways of judging people and looking at the world. It is also their youth that made their acute curiosity and passion for life so much penetrating to me.
As I was leaving, I took their hearts and also made a promise to myself-to look at the world with fresh eyes.
Thanks.
How do they sound?
I'm just a little bit worried about both essays being too abstract. Is that a little bit vague and hard to follow? Should I add more clarification or change my style of narration to make it clearer? Also, any extra fat that I could trim, cuz I'm running out of word count, although still within the charater limit.
I'll post both essays and any critique is welcomed and much appreciated!!
Describe an educational experience, in school or out, that has changed your view of the world (approximately 250 words/ 1750 characters maximum);
To begin with my own story, the story of The Last Supper must be told.
The painting now resides quietly in a monastery in Milan, with a companion, an art restorer, who has been there for 25 years. At the time she arrived, it was opaque and colorless, dismantled by the inhumanity of war and layers of inconsiderate paint. It was hopeless in its condition; the artist himself would have felt the same if he had had the chance to stand at her position. All that she did-strip away flakes of paint, apply to it a mild layer of watercolor, and highlight its original details-was not enough to bring it back to life. But she continued with her mission, unruffled.
Watching the story in a documentary, I reflected upon my own. I thought about every piece of glorious art I'd seen, whether in a film or a gallery, and its individual history of "destruction" and "restoration". I remembered the singer I loved, dead, of cancer, young and hardly known. I contemplated the ending of One Hundred Years of Solitude, and the shattered memory of the BuendÃa family. I lamented the accident of my teacher-she lay down at the intersection, breathing heavily with blood bubbling out of her nose.
Wild ruminations, people call them. But I've never escaped from the gravity of such thoughts. To see life in terms of its end, to look at beauty in terms of its destruction, to appreciate light in terms of its eclipse, and to value well-being in terms of its pain and suffering make it all the more profound when I look at myself and the world around me.
That's why I value art, history, culture, and all that we can contribute to the conservation of bits of evidence of our very existence.
Describe the one activity listed above which tells the most about what kind of student you will be. (approximately 250 words/ 1750 characters maximum).
P.S.: I'm really worried about this piece, seems like the story lacks context and tell me if it is somewhat cliched. Remind me, also, if it is OFF-TOPIC.
She, a first-grade girl in my English class, gazed at me, her approaching hand gripping a colored paper heart.
"Is this for me?" Stunned and unable to speak, I was immobile-but I had to leave then.
"Bingo," she said with pride, turning to the other kids who ran all the way to the gate.
"Yes, Teacher, we learnt how to fold it after we had opened yours." Every little hand unclenched, a paper heart inside.
Earlier, I was slightly annoyed when their hands squeezed into my box, competing for the last candy. I was shocked when they followed me reading, in halting but almost deafening voices-"one, two, three ..." These moments summed up their image in my mind: naughty kids.
But this last moment of my tutorship in Dabie Mountain, an impoverished region in Anhui Province, offered me insights into them.
A box of candy could spur their curiosity just to have a taste of it; a list of new words would lead them to read in their loudest voice, to grasp it, and to carve it into their mind; even a little paper heart as a reward for response in class would become their obsession-they studied it closely to see the pattern and reproduced it with a page from the textbook.
I could have scolded them for having torn pages off their precious books, and could have had every reason to dismiss their ways of doing things, on the grounds that I was ten years older.
Yet, it is these years that separated us that made me rethink my formulaic ways of judging people and looking at the world. It is also their youth that made their acute curiosity and passion for life so much penetrating to me.
As I was leaving, I took their hearts and also made a promise to myself-to look at the world with fresh eyes.
Thanks.
