Undergraduate / Cornell AAP Supplement, why your chosen major? [4]

I think it needs more focus... Please give me suggestions. Thanks!
Right now it's 499 words, and the word limit is 500.

Prompt: How does the major you would like to study in the College of Architecture, Art, and Planning match your intellectual, academic and career interests? Discuss any activities you have engaged in that are relevant to your chosen major.

Until fairly recently, my answers to the frequently asked "What-do-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up" question were always inconsistent. If, at a specific moment, I was joyfully immersed in the technical conundrums of, say, building a trebuchet, I would answer "Engineer". If I was instead engrossed in painting an expressive portrait for art class, I would answer "Painter". My other answers included "Historian" and "Teacher". At that time, I did not know that I wanted to study architecture at Cornell. I only knew that I wanted to apply all my passions to improve the world, in a vague, grand way.

Eventually, I realized that architecture encompassed all of my intellectual and academic interests: art, engineering, and everything in between. Architecture is artistic, imaginative; I experienced that when I climbed the whimsical staircase in Frank Gehry's newly redesigned Art Gallery of Ontario. It was truly "frozen music". However, I also believe that architecture is much more than frozen music. To study architecture is to study history, practical problem-solving skills and the creative and responsible application of technology, in addition to artistic expression. At Cornell architecture, I will put my passions for painting, trebuchet-building and for everything else to good use.

As a professional architect with my own firm, I will battle against environmental issues. I believe that architecture has a more physical impact on environmental protection than politics, or science. At Cornell architecture, I shall learn to design sustainability directly into people's lives.

As an architect, I also wish to rescue people from monotony. My school has a twin across town: an identical building with the same grey and tan exterior. It would be reasonably safe for me to presume that my school's level of pride would be higher, had the architect designed a building that creatively connected with the school community.

I have always been preparing for a future in architecture. Last year, at school, I designed and constructed a mural with several other students to revitalize the library hall way. The mural depicted fairies and magical books- and gave the library an air of enchantment. In my community, I drew an autumn scene on the sidewalk to revitalize the route to school (as you may have read in my personal essay). As well, I am currently working with my school's Arts Council to produce an interactive installation for a community Earth Hour festival.

In places beyond my community- in Beijing, Toronto, Tokyo, New York and Quebec City, I have immersed myself in the stories of skyscrapers and ordinary houses alike. On a recent trip to Beijing, I tried interpret how Chinese philosophies were visually translated into architecture in the Forbidden City. Later that day, I traveled to one of Beijing's hutongs, and let the spirit of the ancient brick courtyards move my soul.

Several months passed, and I stood in front of Rand Hall. I gazed at the commanding brick walls. I knew at that instant, that studying there, I would gain the knowledge and imagination required to tackle all the world's challenges.

Undergraduate / Personal Essay- Carmen, a person of significant influence [5]

Please help me edit this!
Be brutal in your comments!!! Thank you!
Oh, and please tell me if this fits under:

"Indicate a person who has had a significant influence on you, and describe that influence."
or "Other".

I always walk to school in a pair of boots. On most days, instead of travelling on the good solid sidewalk like most students do, I take a winding, muddy path through tall, waving grasses and cattails.

I never met the person who made the trail. I stumbled across his creation in grade ten. While meandering around the football field on my way home, I noticed that someone had torn a (very neat) hole through the fence separating our school from the ravine behind it. There was a 3-foot wide gully at the bottom of the ravine- a tricky obstacle for any short-cutters, especially in the Canadian winter. However, the hole-maker had also taken the time to construct a simple bridge.

I crossed the bridge, and saw that the ravine was full of the pleasant surprises of autumn. I stood in wonder as a mole (Condylura cristata, as I found out through a little Googling that night) stopped right in front of my shoes. He slurped up a juicy worm like he was eating a spaghetti. Chickadees hopped from branch to branch. Goldfinches flew like miniature torpedoes across the sky. I had lived for the most of my life in suburban neighbourhoods composed of identical houses with perfectly manicured lawns. Before the anonymous bridge builder brought me to the ravine, I did not have many close encounters with the wilderness. I closed my eyes, immersing myself in the spirit of the ravine.

The next morning, my all-knowing friend Carmen shattered any romantic notions I had formed overnight about the identity of the bridge-maker. I had imagined him to be like the old man in the Will Allen Dromgoole's poem, The Bridge Builder. I pictured him, thinking to himself as he toiled over the almost-frozen gully:

"This chasm that has been naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him".

"Pshh...Get real!" Carmen said, breaking me out of my reverie. "I think it was probably someone who was too lazy to walk all the way around the ravine to get to school."

I realized that she was probably right. But even if the anonymous bridge maker was not wholly altruistic in his actions, I had to admire him for two reasons:

1) Because he taught me about the beauty of chickadees and moles, and;
2) because of his nerve- it must have taken guts to saw a hole through the school fence.

What use was there in grumbling about the lethargy of my generation, while ignoring the potential everyone has to make a difference? It is slightly absurd to be so impacted by an average teenager whom I never even met. But, maybe it was better, in a way, that the bridge builder was not the venerable old man in Dromgoole's poem. If an ordinary teenager could bring such beauty into my day (even by serendipity), then so could I for someone else, I realized. If he could tear a hole through that cold, grey, chain-linked fence, then perhaps I could too-metaphorically.

At that moment I chose to pay the bridge-builder's act forward. I decided to carry out my first mission at a monotonous section of road near my school. On that road, I would create a few unexpected delights for my targets: groggy-eyed students on their way to school. So, on the next day, I armed myself with an arsenal of multicoloured chalk and drew, over several slabs of sidewalk, the anonymous bridge builder's gift to me. I drew yellow goldfinches and spiral-shelled snails. I drew tall, brown grasses and red and golden leaves.

That night, I slept poorly. I kept wondering: would anybody like my drawing? Would my pictures bring the same wonder to a passer-by, as the Anonymous Bridge-Maker's deed did for me? Would anybody prosecute me for vandalism? (I chastised myself for not consulting regulations on the appropriate use of sidewalk chalk). I fell asleep, at last, with the comforting thought that chalk is washable.

The next morning, two girls stopped by my drawing. "Wow, that's really pretty!" said one of them, and my heart swelled with true pride to know that I had made someone's world more beautiful.

[transition]

An anonymous adolescent had built a simple bridge and created infinite repercussions in my life. I now realize the importance of seizing every opportunity to brighten the world, or simply, someone's day. I try to act on this principle every day. I shall continue to pass on the bridge-maker's serendipitous, but beautiful gift as I embark on my journey in University. Every day, I shall build bridges for the world.