Essay #2
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. (500 word limit)
Mr. Guerra has asked you to participate in an art exhibit. You know art is your passion, your niche, your abstract mind coming to play, so you take the honorable offer. In retrospect, your mindset was not where you'd have liked it to be, you understand you have an infinite amount of things to learn, but back then you thought you were your best version, the version that saw art only as a medium of self-expression.
Hours, days, weeks pass by while you work on the symbol of your childhood. You realize you've drawn in one of your most memorable objects that relate to your father: a book solely for Akitas, a type of dog your family used to have. You don't know why this reminds you so much of him; why this tiny shred of paper has so many underlying emotions and symbolic feelings that will forever represent happiness. Why your brother's five-year-old haircut is still vivid in your mind; the curve of his long hair resting against his temples while his never-ending eyelashes fanned his big brown eyes. You continue to sketch innocence, smiles, and your favorite chair as a child. The rocking chair your parents got in a garage sale and repainted to fit your preferences. You continue to sketch nostalgia.
The piece came along stroke after stroke, modification after pure concentration. All that was left to draw were the faces; to you, the hardest part. These honest shapes had crevices, soft curves, and blissful eyes. Even from the original picture you could tell these faces had young memories of freedom and play-time. Consequently, your work developed and your mind developed with it. What you thought was going to be hours of drawing turned out to be minutes of unscathed creativity and passion. Your sketching pencil took over you ever since you first laid your fingers on the canvas. Your feelings came back and reminded you of the happy times; the delicate memories that made you ask yourself "Why this trivial experience? Why are you attached so deeply to words your mother said, or things you saw your brother put away in his top drawer?". The answer, you learn, is simple: Insignificant remembrances are the real paradox; it's their importance that keeps nostalgia intact.
Now you're done. Finished. A sense of alleviation and calmness charge through you. You can tell this experience has changed you; made you more patient and appreciative. Art is not just about self-expression, but beauty, laughter, and life.
It's unexplainable; the flow you get when you're in deep focus. The rush of forgotten adrenaline in your system as you invent new things to showcase to different, yet very alike, minds. And, how could you forget, the feeling achieved when it's all said and done; the beauty you see in your piece when opinions are trafficking. It's what you wanted from the start; to give a little piece of you out and see who would catch it. It's what anyone wants, really.
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. (500 word limit)
Mr. Guerra has asked you to participate in an art exhibit. You know art is your passion, your niche, your abstract mind coming to play, so you take the honorable offer. In retrospect, your mindset was not where you'd have liked it to be, you understand you have an infinite amount of things to learn, but back then you thought you were your best version, the version that saw art only as a medium of self-expression.
Hours, days, weeks pass by while you work on the symbol of your childhood. You realize you've drawn in one of your most memorable objects that relate to your father: a book solely for Akitas, a type of dog your family used to have. You don't know why this reminds you so much of him; why this tiny shred of paper has so many underlying emotions and symbolic feelings that will forever represent happiness. Why your brother's five-year-old haircut is still vivid in your mind; the curve of his long hair resting against his temples while his never-ending eyelashes fanned his big brown eyes. You continue to sketch innocence, smiles, and your favorite chair as a child. The rocking chair your parents got in a garage sale and repainted to fit your preferences. You continue to sketch nostalgia.
The piece came along stroke after stroke, modification after pure concentration. All that was left to draw were the faces; to you, the hardest part. These honest shapes had crevices, soft curves, and blissful eyes. Even from the original picture you could tell these faces had young memories of freedom and play-time. Consequently, your work developed and your mind developed with it. What you thought was going to be hours of drawing turned out to be minutes of unscathed creativity and passion. Your sketching pencil took over you ever since you first laid your fingers on the canvas. Your feelings came back and reminded you of the happy times; the delicate memories that made you ask yourself "Why this trivial experience? Why are you attached so deeply to words your mother said, or things you saw your brother put away in his top drawer?". The answer, you learn, is simple: Insignificant remembrances are the real paradox; it's their importance that keeps nostalgia intact.
Now you're done. Finished. A sense of alleviation and calmness charge through you. You can tell this experience has changed you; made you more patient and appreciative. Art is not just about self-expression, but beauty, laughter, and life.
It's unexplainable; the flow you get when you're in deep focus. The rush of forgotten adrenaline in your system as you invent new things to showcase to different, yet very alike, minds. And, how could you forget, the feeling achieved when it's all said and done; the beauty you see in your piece when opinions are trafficking. It's what you wanted from the start; to give a little piece of you out and see who would catch it. It's what anyone wants, really.