I took more than one day to think about what to write and this is what I got.This is my first draft. I'm not so sure whether I really answer the prompt. Can this experience and feeling called intellectual development? THX a lot!
Prompt: Stanford students reflect an intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development. 2000 characters
Along my way to Dunhuang were hundreds of miles of Gobi, a special name of cold desert in West China, which were covered by rocks rather than sands. Mogao Caves, containing some of the finest Buddhists art works throughout thousands of years, spans here along the ancient Silk Road. The caves seemed more mysterious and isolate when the sunset had already tinted the sky with yellowish brown
I've traveled to other famous ancient sites before, my experiences disappointed me: Tourist guides always pointed at some landscapes while telling some stories that are not necessarily true. For me, ancient arts mean beauty and long history, but bare deep meaning.
However, what I saw here shocked me. I felt myself falling in a dream which lasted for over a thousand years. In the dream, the cold color sculptures of Northern Wei demonstrated a fierce war; the large complete and detailed narrative" Pure Land" on the extensive murals on the caves showed brilliant scenes of Mahayana Buddhism, which reached its peak during Tang dynasty, also the apogee of Dunhuang arts; as we came to Yuan dynasty, the style of Buddhas became less lively as if they are telling the decadency.
No, the Mogao Caves is not died beauty; it is alive, for thousands of years. It was born with this culture, grew up during the tumult of wars, gained the most beauty as the best era came and aged with the time. Its life is built by countless artists, draftsman and workers, by their magnificent imaginations, sophisticated while skillful crafts, and persistence as well as determination under this harsh environment.
For me, it became more than about Buddhist stories, painting techniques, cultures or history; it is the soul inside of these ancient arts, the soul of generations of people who had lived on the same land as I do, the soul of the beauty detached from mortal life, the soul which has the supreme power to purify the world, to help the future generations feel their ancestors, to explore the deepest humanities.
Prompt: Stanford students reflect an intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development. 2000 characters
Along my way to Dunhuang were hundreds of miles of Gobi, a special name of cold desert in West China, which were covered by rocks rather than sands. Mogao Caves, containing some of the finest Buddhists art works throughout thousands of years, spans here along the ancient Silk Road. The caves seemed more mysterious and isolate when the sunset had already tinted the sky with yellowish brown
I've traveled to other famous ancient sites before, my experiences disappointed me: Tourist guides always pointed at some landscapes while telling some stories that are not necessarily true. For me, ancient arts mean beauty and long history, but bare deep meaning.
However, what I saw here shocked me. I felt myself falling in a dream which lasted for over a thousand years. In the dream, the cold color sculptures of Northern Wei demonstrated a fierce war; the large complete and detailed narrative" Pure Land" on the extensive murals on the caves showed brilliant scenes of Mahayana Buddhism, which reached its peak during Tang dynasty, also the apogee of Dunhuang arts; as we came to Yuan dynasty, the style of Buddhas became less lively as if they are telling the decadency.
No, the Mogao Caves is not died beauty; it is alive, for thousands of years. It was born with this culture, grew up during the tumult of wars, gained the most beauty as the best era came and aged with the time. Its life is built by countless artists, draftsman and workers, by their magnificent imaginations, sophisticated while skillful crafts, and persistence as well as determination under this harsh environment.
For me, it became more than about Buddhist stories, painting techniques, cultures or history; it is the soul inside of these ancient arts, the soul of generations of people who had lived on the same land as I do, the soul of the beauty detached from mortal life, the soul which has the supreme power to purify the world, to help the future generations feel their ancestors, to explore the deepest humanities.
