Could you guys tell me how my essay is for the common app #1? Does it answer the criteria/s? How is the flow? Transitions? Thanks!
Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience and its impact on you.
My Last Strings
Violin case, stand, and music... Check, check, and check. With sweat rolling across my lips, I sat there, waiting for the lift of the magical wand that my conductor uses all so well.
Despite being the fourth stand in my 7th grade class, I never really understood how much pressure was too much or too little. With the constant fluctuation of the song flowing along with the high and low beats, my emotions were a constant melting pot. As I looked about in the empty crowd, I found the solemn face of darkness stare back, never gazing away, never blinking.
"Okay students, please raise your bows, we're going to start again at the fourth line, part B," said a voice.
As I snapped back to reality, I saw the empty rows of seats lay before me. Filling a small part of the empty space was my conductor standing high on top a platform. Not a moment too soon, I realized that this was just a rehearsal. Just a rehearsal... No big deal, right?
"Oh wow," I thought to myself, "how did I end up here...?"
The sounds of chatter entered my ears from every direction. As I looked around the theater, darkness did not welcome me this time. Rather, I saw the faces of people I knew, friendly and strange. Breaking away from the distractions surrounding me, I looked up to my conductor.
"Oh my god Edwin, do not screw up. No pressures at all, just take it slow and easy..." I reassured myself.
As my conductor, John, raised his baton, I took a deep breath. With perfect posture, I embraced myself for an hour of hell.
"And so it begins," I whispered to myself.
As I played my strings away, going from one page to the next, I felt my heart beat to the tempo of the concerto. The auxiliary of the beat pounded my head and my eyes stung from the sweat of my work.
"One song down, only two more to go," I thought nervously.
I was certain of failure somewhere down the line. Then, John lifted his baton and began the start of a new song.
"One, two, three... And now!"
With a raise of my shoulder and a lift of my arm, I began to play my part. With the tempo increasing faster and faster, my heart raced right along.
Playing faster than I had ever before, I closed my eyes in the midst of defeat. I just didn't have the strength to continue.
"Edwin, this is your last concert. You have to finish strong and proud."
Whoever said this to me, either myself or my partner, or some higher calling, I realized that the voice was right; I need to represent who I am. Opening my eyes once again, I began to play the finale with my last strings.
With my ears attuned to the song, I hear a faint voice whisper, "Well done, Edwin. Well done."
Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience and its impact on you.
My Last Strings
Violin case, stand, and music... Check, check, and check. With sweat rolling across my lips, I sat there, waiting for the lift of the magical wand that my conductor uses all so well.
Despite being the fourth stand in my 7th grade class, I never really understood how much pressure was too much or too little. With the constant fluctuation of the song flowing along with the high and low beats, my emotions were a constant melting pot. As I looked about in the empty crowd, I found the solemn face of darkness stare back, never gazing away, never blinking.
"Okay students, please raise your bows, we're going to start again at the fourth line, part B," said a voice.
As I snapped back to reality, I saw the empty rows of seats lay before me. Filling a small part of the empty space was my conductor standing high on top a platform. Not a moment too soon, I realized that this was just a rehearsal. Just a rehearsal... No big deal, right?
"Oh wow," I thought to myself, "how did I end up here...?"
The sounds of chatter entered my ears from every direction. As I looked around the theater, darkness did not welcome me this time. Rather, I saw the faces of people I knew, friendly and strange. Breaking away from the distractions surrounding me, I looked up to my conductor.
"Oh my god Edwin, do not screw up. No pressures at all, just take it slow and easy..." I reassured myself.
As my conductor, John, raised his baton, I took a deep breath. With perfect posture, I embraced myself for an hour of hell.
"And so it begins," I whispered to myself.
As I played my strings away, going from one page to the next, I felt my heart beat to the tempo of the concerto. The auxiliary of the beat pounded my head and my eyes stung from the sweat of my work.
"One song down, only two more to go," I thought nervously.
I was certain of failure somewhere down the line. Then, John lifted his baton and began the start of a new song.
"One, two, three... And now!"
With a raise of my shoulder and a lift of my arm, I began to play my part. With the tempo increasing faster and faster, my heart raced right along.
Playing faster than I had ever before, I closed my eyes in the midst of defeat. I just didn't have the strength to continue.
"Edwin, this is your last concert. You have to finish strong and proud."
Whoever said this to me, either myself or my partner, or some higher calling, I realized that the voice was right; I need to represent who I am. Opening my eyes once again, I began to play the finale with my last strings.
With my ears attuned to the song, I hear a faint voice whisper, "Well done, Edwin. Well done."