This is my short answer for the common application. It was about my extracurricular, which is my rock band and music. Hope I can get some helpful suggestions. Thank you!
"We need a guitarist, please join us."the caption reached out his hand.
I shake it.
Ten years ago, in the lane pervading with the perfume of onion and garlic, I hummed with that old cassette machine. Five years ago, in the busy and pompous downtown, I trotted with my guitar on the back. Three years ago, in the school full of the tinkling of reading, I met these guys with the same passion towards music. It was never a thing that I have to treat with an attitude, but already a part of myself.
First show, it was excited and nervous. It took time for running-in between the instruments, between the teammates. There are wrinkling guitar scores, fallen amplifiers, entangling wires and the calluses on my fingertips. The old studio before the performance was surprisingly peaceful: the light smell of mold, the creaking floor, the dimming lights, and the unstrained flying dust between the beans. I fiddled the strings, and the crisp sound flowed melodiously.
Second show, it was familiar and confident. Still messy was the rehearsal room; still peaceful was the old studio.
Third show, it was tacit and calm. Still fallen in love with the old studio.
Thank you.
"We need a guitarist, please join us."the caption reached out his hand.
I shake it.
Ten years ago, in the lane pervading with the perfume of onion and garlic, I hummed with that old cassette machine. Five years ago, in the busy and pompous downtown, I trotted with my guitar on the back. Three years ago, in the school full of the tinkling of reading, I met these guys with the same passion towards music. It was never a thing that I have to treat with an attitude, but already a part of myself.
First show, it was excited and nervous. It took time for running-in between the instruments, between the teammates. There are wrinkling guitar scores, fallen amplifiers, entangling wires and the calluses on my fingertips. The old studio before the performance was surprisingly peaceful: the light smell of mold, the creaking floor, the dimming lights, and the unstrained flying dust between the beans. I fiddled the strings, and the crisp sound flowed melodiously.
Second show, it was familiar and confident. Still messy was the rehearsal room; still peaceful was the old studio.
Third show, it was tacit and calm. Still fallen in love with the old studio.
Thank you.
