melanieleng
Nov 30, 2011
Undergraduate / 'introduction to Jazz' - UC prompt 2 [3]
I like the "prefer my seat to be on stage". Gives you character :)
I like the "prefer my seat to be on stage". Gives you character :)
melanieleng
Nov 30, 2011
Undergraduate / I would rather risk my grade than my integrity & passion -UC Prompt [4]
I particularly love to photograph the elaborate jumps, spins, and lifts of the in figure skating, my favorite sport. This was the foundation for my portfolio concentration, with the goal of capturing a paradox of beauty through artistic body movements. Although sports photography was unheard of in the realm of AP Art, I was adamant that my eagerness would be enough of a platform to work off of.
However, my teacher opposed, arguing that I hardly stood a chance against the AP panel. She unwillingly gave me the option of photoshopping strange backgrounds and coloration onto the figure skaters. This seemed like a drastic change in direction of the concept that I had: a simplistic, yet telling portrayal of motion photography. I believe that photoshop takes away from an artist's true value; otherwise, anyone toying around with this tool can claim to be a so-called photographer. I crave the learning process of struggling and experiment with varying levels of exposure, shutter speed, and angles. It is the satisfaction of accomplishment that justifies all the time and effort needed to succeed independent of photoshop.
The overbearing teacher attempted to restrict my unorthodox ways by giving assignments that counted toward my grade. I refused to be discouraged by projects of photographing garlic and bicycle tires, trying to convert to these topics. Unfortunately, all that could be produced was boredom, as I lacked connections to these subjects. In the end, the crucial decision to photograph as I pleased, regardless of how it affected my grade, did damage my marks; however, expressing myself was more important to me because art represents the simplest outlet of my voice, and for that freedom to be dictated seemed to hinder personal imagination. Without disrespecting the teacher, I used the courage that stemmed from the confined artist within to take a firm stance against her narrow-scoped perspective and defended my artistic independence.
Photographs are accurate snapshots of a scene, using nature's beauty to evoke emotions, while photoshopped pictures are digitally manipulated to alter the true perception of the image. I realize that computer-altered art can be done tastefully and inspire new forms of media; however, it discredits the fundamental process of photography. I am aware of my passionate personality, often choosing to trust my guts and taking leaps of faith. Even if that means that I pursue my own successes and failures, I take pleasure and pride in knowing that I'm following my heart and learning from my mistakes.
I particularly love to photograph the elaborate jumps, spins, and lifts of the in figure skating, my favorite sport. This was the foundation for my portfolio concentration, with the goal of capturing a paradox of beauty through artistic body movements. Although sports photography was unheard of in the realm of AP Art, I was adamant that my eagerness would be enough of a platform to work off of.
However, my teacher opposed, arguing that I hardly stood a chance against the AP panel. She unwillingly gave me the option of photoshopping strange backgrounds and coloration onto the figure skaters. This seemed like a drastic change in direction of the concept that I had: a simplistic, yet telling portrayal of motion photography. I believe that photoshop takes away from an artist's true value; otherwise, anyone toying around with this tool can claim to be a so-called photographer. I crave the learning process of struggling and experiment with varying levels of exposure, shutter speed, and angles. It is the satisfaction of accomplishment that justifies all the time and effort needed to succeed independent of photoshop.
The overbearing teacher attempted to restrict my unorthodox ways by giving assignments that counted toward my grade. I refused to be discouraged by projects of photographing garlic and bicycle tires, trying to convert to these topics. Unfortunately, all that could be produced was boredom, as I lacked connections to these subjects. In the end, the crucial decision to photograph as I pleased, regardless of how it affected my grade, did damage my marks; however, expressing myself was more important to me because art represents the simplest outlet of my voice, and for that freedom to be dictated seemed to hinder personal imagination. Without disrespecting the teacher, I used the courage that stemmed from the confined artist within to take a firm stance against her narrow-scoped perspective and defended my artistic independence.
Photographs are accurate snapshots of a scene, using nature's beauty to evoke emotions, while photoshopped pictures are digitally manipulated to alter the true perception of the image. I realize that computer-altered art can be done tastefully and inspire new forms of media; however, it discredits the fundamental process of photography. I am aware of my passionate personality, often choosing to trust my guts and taking leaps of faith. Even if that means that I pursue my own successes and failures, I take pleasure and pride in knowing that I'm following my heart and learning from my mistakes.
melanieleng
Nov 30, 2011
melanieleng
Nov 30, 2011
Undergraduate / 'an interest in foreign languages' - (Northeastern, BU, Ithaca, UB) [3]
Wow, I really liked the content of what you wrote. Best of luck to you :)
Wow, I really liked the content of what you wrote. Best of luck to you :)
melanieleng
Nov 30, 2011
Undergraduate / How my morals & values came to be -UC Essay Prompt regarding what world I come from [2]
It was late in the afternoon when I spotted an elderly lady with uneven spectacles and tattered rags crouched outside a vacated storefront, using the overhang as shelter from the rain. Her tiny, shivering hands and her beautiful, yet helpless and humbled eyes were undeniably searching for any sign of hopeful compassion. The presence of a "please help, cancer survivor" cardboard sign stood out in a sea of blurred business people steering away, passing by her without acknowledgement. After witnessing her despondent state, I wondered how my grandmother would reach out to such suffering.
My grandmother survived on a scarce salary that barely sustained the household of seven; despite her condition, she found it in her heart to join Tzu Chi. The lifestyle of this international humanitarian charity required discipline and determination, asking her to sacrifice what little she had for the sake of her community.She contributed as much as she could to charity, scraping together pennies in a bamboo jar. She donated daily, instead of in periodic lumps, because she believed that poverty deserved awareness as often as it was a reality for millions of people. Her philanthropic deeds and charisma inspired many other members in the organization, and she became a very respected role model.
I aspired to not only have my grandma's infectious personality and the level of respect that she
received, but also to uphold the role of a model citizen. A desire to acquire her undeniable patience and open-mindedness prompted me to do what she does best: volunteer. As a child, the task seemed daunting, but I realized that all I needed was the willingness to give what we usually take for granted: time, basic necessities, and love. After Hurricane Katrina occurred, I would volunteer to stand at store entrances to raise funds. It was simple, but it stood out as a feasible way to support the less fortunate. Similarly, my attention was drawn to our local communal shortages when I attended an event for Remote Area Medical. I observed hundreds of tents, with families camping overnight in the bitter cold in hopes of receiving a free, simple medical check-up inside the expo center that they otherwise could not afford. I helped guide the individuals and families through the check-up procedures and direct them to the services they needed. Knowing that their well-being depended on this event, I realized how great of a direct impact I could make in the world.
Although sparing some dollar bills made a minuscule dent in my wallet, she ecstatically kissed my hand and professed her appreciation of the kindness I had shown her. Helping the old lady made me feel like I directly touched her life, as if I were the answer to all her problems. Her reaction was so pure and genuine that I couldn't believe that such a modest gesture could really mean the world to someone, leaving me proud that I did what I felt in my heart was morally sound. To look the other way would have meant that I was being oblivious and ignorant, contradicting the values that I had learned from my grandmother. The purpose of establishing morals at a young age is so that responsibility for the community becomes a natural, integral part of us.
It is not only the large-scale events that make a difference, but also the smallest of selfless acts. My grandmother, through her volunteering, taught me a set of paramount morals on giving back to the community. Because of her, I make decisions every day to waste less and help people in need. The priceless experiences as a volunteer have propelled my holistic understanding of the world, the people in it, and their different backgrounds and struggles. I hope to create a more loving world and emanate understanding to ignorant people who are blind to the suffering of others, and furthermore, advocate for acceptance and compassion of each other.
It was late in the afternoon when I spotted an elderly lady with uneven spectacles and tattered rags crouched outside a vacated storefront, using the overhang as shelter from the rain. Her tiny, shivering hands and her beautiful, yet helpless and humbled eyes were undeniably searching for any sign of hopeful compassion. The presence of a "please help, cancer survivor" cardboard sign stood out in a sea of blurred business people steering away, passing by her without acknowledgement. After witnessing her despondent state, I wondered how my grandmother would reach out to such suffering.
My grandmother survived on a scarce salary that barely sustained the household of seven; despite her condition, she found it in her heart to join Tzu Chi. The lifestyle of this international humanitarian charity required discipline and determination, asking her to sacrifice what little she had for the sake of her community.She contributed as much as she could to charity, scraping together pennies in a bamboo jar. She donated daily, instead of in periodic lumps, because she believed that poverty deserved awareness as often as it was a reality for millions of people. Her philanthropic deeds and charisma inspired many other members in the organization, and she became a very respected role model.
I aspired to not only have my grandma's infectious personality and the level of respect that she
received, but also to uphold the role of a model citizen. A desire to acquire her undeniable patience and open-mindedness prompted me to do what she does best: volunteer. As a child, the task seemed daunting, but I realized that all I needed was the willingness to give what we usually take for granted: time, basic necessities, and love. After Hurricane Katrina occurred, I would volunteer to stand at store entrances to raise funds. It was simple, but it stood out as a feasible way to support the less fortunate. Similarly, my attention was drawn to our local communal shortages when I attended an event for Remote Area Medical. I observed hundreds of tents, with families camping overnight in the bitter cold in hopes of receiving a free, simple medical check-up inside the expo center that they otherwise could not afford. I helped guide the individuals and families through the check-up procedures and direct them to the services they needed. Knowing that their well-being depended on this event, I realized how great of a direct impact I could make in the world.
Although sparing some dollar bills made a minuscule dent in my wallet, she ecstatically kissed my hand and professed her appreciation of the kindness I had shown her. Helping the old lady made me feel like I directly touched her life, as if I were the answer to all her problems. Her reaction was so pure and genuine that I couldn't believe that such a modest gesture could really mean the world to someone, leaving me proud that I did what I felt in my heart was morally sound. To look the other way would have meant that I was being oblivious and ignorant, contradicting the values that I had learned from my grandmother. The purpose of establishing morals at a young age is so that responsibility for the community becomes a natural, integral part of us.
It is not only the large-scale events that make a difference, but also the smallest of selfless acts. My grandmother, through her volunteering, taught me a set of paramount morals on giving back to the community. Because of her, I make decisions every day to waste less and help people in need. The priceless experiences as a volunteer have propelled my holistic understanding of the world, the people in it, and their different backgrounds and struggles. I hope to create a more loving world and emanate understanding to ignorant people who are blind to the suffering of others, and furthermore, advocate for acceptance and compassion of each other.
