Hi everyone, here is the supplemental essay I wrote in response to the prompt: "What's your latest discovery? What do you hope to learn next?" All feedback is much appreciated! Thank you!
Bridging the Disciplines
The boy could not take it any longer. The box was hissing quietly and incessantly. "Open me... Open me!" It was a delectable chocolate bar-urging him; tempting him. He heaved the case onto the couch, and unfastened the clasp.
"What are you doing, Kevin?" his father's voice materialized behind him.
The boy whirled around, trying to conceal his discovery, "Nothing! Nothing!" he cried.
Seeing the box, the father chuckled, "So you've found the violin, haven't you?"
"So that's what it was." The boy had seen his neighbor play it before.
"Would you like to try it?"
The child nodded vigorously, and carefully removed the instrument from its case. The varnish shone a magnificent amber. The bow hair glistened like a pearl, like a lightsaber. He never saw a white lightsaber-wielding Jedi, but that did not matter. He was ready.
Since then, I found, to my grief, that I was in fact far from a Jedi, but I have made great strides in my art. From age 7, I have been performing regularly in hospitals. The environment is deathly quiet, only with the occasional ring of the telephone or chime of the elevator. Patients roam about in silence, and the barren atmosphere only makes their emotional burdens more painful. Luckily, I can help; music can soothe emotional distress that is beyond the reach of traditional medicine.
****
It was a serene summer morning, with the first rays of the sunrise peeking over the horizon. The air was humid and unnaturally heavy on our shoulders; all was silent, save the muffled beginnings of tears; nature's hum had stopped, as if to leave this moment only for us. The heart-wrenching theme of Schindler's List flowed from my fingertips -it was an expression of sorrow, of grief, an expression of the inexpressible. My uncle's sincere complexion and glowing smile brought back a flurry of memories: The family photo, with my uncle's towering figure in the middle, and his sisters laughing and leaning against him, smiles full of happiness and hope for the future. "Be careful! Don't hurt yourself!" he called out to us as my brother and I scampered through the streets. I wish I had the opportunity to say the same to him.
As I closed my clouding eyes, I could feel the melody drifting into the heavens, transcending earthly boundaries. Somewhere beyond, my uncle was listening, watching, longing to be with us, to love us. As the last note slowly faded away, he vanished reluctantly; a compassionate young man with infinite love for his family- gone forever. I stood before the gravestone utterly powerless, realizing that like medicine, music also has its curative limits.
Henceforth, my goal is quite clear: to pursue an interdisciplinary program. I will continue fulfilling my childhood fantasy, and simultaneously explore the world of life science. One day, I will be able to bridge the two disciplines. After all, there is more than one way to fight the dark side of the Force.
Bridging the Disciplines
The boy could not take it any longer. The box was hissing quietly and incessantly. "Open me... Open me!" It was a delectable chocolate bar-urging him; tempting him. He heaved the case onto the couch, and unfastened the clasp.
"What are you doing, Kevin?" his father's voice materialized behind him.
The boy whirled around, trying to conceal his discovery, "Nothing! Nothing!" he cried.
Seeing the box, the father chuckled, "So you've found the violin, haven't you?"
"So that's what it was." The boy had seen his neighbor play it before.
"Would you like to try it?"
The child nodded vigorously, and carefully removed the instrument from its case. The varnish shone a magnificent amber. The bow hair glistened like a pearl, like a lightsaber. He never saw a white lightsaber-wielding Jedi, but that did not matter. He was ready.
Since then, I found, to my grief, that I was in fact far from a Jedi, but I have made great strides in my art. From age 7, I have been performing regularly in hospitals. The environment is deathly quiet, only with the occasional ring of the telephone or chime of the elevator. Patients roam about in silence, and the barren atmosphere only makes their emotional burdens more painful. Luckily, I can help; music can soothe emotional distress that is beyond the reach of traditional medicine.
****
It was a serene summer morning, with the first rays of the sunrise peeking over the horizon. The air was humid and unnaturally heavy on our shoulders; all was silent, save the muffled beginnings of tears; nature's hum had stopped, as if to leave this moment only for us. The heart-wrenching theme of Schindler's List flowed from my fingertips -it was an expression of sorrow, of grief, an expression of the inexpressible. My uncle's sincere complexion and glowing smile brought back a flurry of memories: The family photo, with my uncle's towering figure in the middle, and his sisters laughing and leaning against him, smiles full of happiness and hope for the future. "Be careful! Don't hurt yourself!" he called out to us as my brother and I scampered through the streets. I wish I had the opportunity to say the same to him.
As I closed my clouding eyes, I could feel the melody drifting into the heavens, transcending earthly boundaries. Somewhere beyond, my uncle was listening, watching, longing to be with us, to love us. As the last note slowly faded away, he vanished reluctantly; a compassionate young man with infinite love for his family- gone forever. I stood before the gravestone utterly powerless, realizing that like medicine, music also has its curative limits.
Henceforth, my goal is quite clear: to pursue an interdisciplinary program. I will continue fulfilling my childhood fantasy, and simultaneously explore the world of life science. One day, I will be able to bridge the two disciplines. After all, there is more than one way to fight the dark side of the Force.
Do You Need