Unanswered [8] | Urgent [0]
  

Posts by Laccone94
Joined: Jan 2, 2013
Last Post: Jan 2, 2013
Threads: 1
Posts: 3  

From: United States of America

Displayed posts: 4
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Laccone94   
Jan 2, 2013
Undergraduate / Going away to school frightens me; Harvey Mudd Essay / One thing [6]

Wow.. Totally beats mine. That is wonderful. You answered the prompt correctly. With you taking it on the risky side shows that your not the average student who wants to play it safe. From this essay i can tell your a hard worker and someone who isn't afraid to jump in and tackle on something head first. The little opening with the authors is also good. You made the essay your own. I don't know if this is the first year of this question being asked like Pomona, but if it is than you have a slam dunk. :)

If you get accepted maybe ill see you around x)

Good luck!
Laccone94   
Jan 2, 2013
Undergraduate / ICS program is one of a kind / Duke Sup/ Duke attractions [13]

Maybe include in it the mission statement of the school? I had an interview and I told the guy all about their programs and how i can be a wonderful addition to the school. However i couldn't name the mission statement so it made me look like i just checked out their website before the interview. If there is anyway to tie that in than wonderful. If not your essya is really good. You know what your talking about.
Laccone94   
Jan 2, 2013
Undergraduate / "You are walking down the street.." - Pomona Essay Supplement [4]

Laccone94
Mayflower and jack i will check yours out now :) and mayflower How can I make it flow better into the ending?
Rewrote it using your guys help. Thanks!

This fall I was walking down the crowded streets of the China Town district in San Francisco. I was snapping pictures left and right so I can share my experience back home. As I wandered through the vibrant and colorful shops, taking in all the aromas of tea and the constant chatter around me, I could feel myself becoming immersed into Chinatown -- blending into the artistry of the Chinese culture.

As I continued walking, I hear this beautiful heart wrenching melody coming from the other side of a narrow street. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself to keep warm I start to follow the noise, I find myself in the door stoop of an abandoned church looking at an elderly man who was clearly as cold as I. Clad in old jeans and a faded Disneyland sweatshirt sitting on an old rickety stool. The source of the melody was coming from an instrument that I was unfamiliar with which sat on his lap on top of a dishtowel.

It had a long neck with two strings attached. They led from the top of the neck around two pegs, to the bottom around this drum looking box. On the box was what seemed hand carved intricate designs that led to the top of the neck.

The man was so absorbed in playing that he did not seem to notice me. I sat down on the curb and just listened to him strum. Being someone who has no musical talent, I was amazed with the way he was able to play such emotional music with a bow and two strings. With eyes closed, he coaxed these notes out with skilled fingers, like a tailor with a needle. He seems to become one with this instrument, with his body swaying in harmony with the instrument and with the music that poured forth. I watched as his face contorted with sadness, anger and hope, his expression matching the piece he was playing. I felt the weight of the notes that he played hit me one by one. Each sending shivers down my spine and making me forget where I was.

When the musical piece was over, the man opened his eyes and seemed bewildered to see me there watching him. Jumping up, I apologized for scaring him and thanked him for playing. I told him that he was playing such beautiful music I could not just walk past him. A grin came to his face and he looked beside him. I did not notice it before but there was an open case next to him with a handful of pictures attached to it. I guessed it was his family. Probably still in the country or dead, I was hoping for the first. I asked him if I could take his picture. He seemed overjoyed to do so. I thanked him again, gave him ten dollars and went on my way. Today that picture is on the inside of my binder, a constant reminder of the that day.
Laccone94   
Jan 2, 2013
Undergraduate / "You are walking down the street.." - Pomona Essay Supplement [4]

"You are walking down the street when something catches your eye. You stop and stare for a long while, amazed and fascinated. What are you looking at?"

This fall I was walking down the crowded streets of the China Town district in San Francisco. I was snapping pictures left and right so I can share my experience back home. Taking whiffs of different teas, staring into warm colorful shops and hearing the chatter of Asian dialects I slowly start immersing myself into this culture.

As I continue walking, I hear this beautiful heart wrenching melody coming from the other side of a narrow street. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself to keep warm I start to follow the noise, I find myself in the door stoop of an abandoned church looking at an elderly man who was clearly as cold as I. Clad in old jeans and a faded Disneyland sweatshirt sitting on an old rickety stool. The source of the melody was coming from an instrument that I was unfamiliar with which sat on his lap on top of a dishtowel.

It had a long neck with two strings attached. They led from the top of the neck around two pegs, to the bottom around this drum looking box. On the box was what seemed hand carved intrict designs that led to the top of the neck.

The man was so absorbed in playing that he did not seem to notice me. I sat down on the curb and just listened to him strum. Being someone who has no musical talent, I was amazed with the way he was able to play such emotional music with a bow and two strings. With eyes closed, he coaxed these notes out with skilled fingers, like a tailor with a needle. He seems to become one with this instrument, with his body swaying in harmony with the instrument and with the music that poured forth. I watched as his face contorted with sadness, anger and hope, his expression matching the piece he was playing. I felt the weight of the notes that he played hit me one by one. Each sending shivers down my spine and making me forget where I was.

When the musical piece was over the man opened his eyes and seemed bewildered to see me there watching him. Jumping up I apologized for scaring him and thanked him for playing. I told him that he was playing such beautiful music I could not just walk past him. A grin came to his face and he looked beside him. I did not notice it before but there was an open case next to him with a handful of pictures attached to it. I guessed it was his family. Probably still in the country or dead, I was hoping for the first. I asked him if I could take his picture. He seemed overjoyed to do so. I thanked him again, gave him ten dollars and went on my way. Today that picture is on the inside of my binder, a constant reminder of the that day.
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