You have already told us about yourself in the Common Application, with its list of activities, Short Answer, and Personal Essay. In this required second essay, tell us something that you would like us to know about you that we might not get from the rest of your application - or something that you would like a chance to say more about. Please limit your essay to fewer than 500 words.
I look at my watch. Seven twenty. It's ten minutes before the concert, and I am standing on the parking lot, my silhouette swallowed by the darkness. I could be in the building doing final sound check or reviewing the concert schedule. But I choose to stand here, alone. Feeling the chill of the winter breeze, I stare at the solitary light coming off of a streetlamp. Silence and calmness. These are the things I need in this moment.
I'll say that it's some sort of a personal tradition. I always spend some time alone before the beginning of a performance. It's my effort to stay respectful to music; when I perform, I want nothing to stand in between myself and music. Only when the canvas is blank can a painter truly fill it with the strokes of his brush. It's same with me; I need to empty my mind of all noises before I can play anything. So I stand here, in the parking lot, listening to the whispers of the breeze, the clicking sound of my shoes, and the crispy noises of leaves sweeping the ground. From afar, in the darkness, I can see the towering trees gently shaking in time with the breeze. I can see the stars illuminating in the pitch darkness. My only obligation is to seize this moment. Let my lungs be filled with chill air, and my mind be filled with the calmness of the scene.
I look at my watch again. Seven twenty-eight. I must go. I enter the building and walk towards the backstage. As I open the door, unpleasantly warm and stuffy air rushes out. The place is filled with noises, carrying that excitement just before the opening of a concert. I casually walk up to the stage with other members and put on my bass. The conductor steps onto the stage, and the audience ceases the conversations. Awkward silence. I can feel the tension on the rest of the band, but I am in my calmest mood. I am here to create something new, something different from the last rehearsal. I am here to seize every moment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get going; the show is about to begin. As usual, it begins with the counts.
One, two, three, four ...
I look at my watch. Seven twenty. It's ten minutes before the concert, and I am standing on the parking lot, my silhouette swallowed by the darkness. I could be in the building doing final sound check or reviewing the concert schedule. But I choose to stand here, alone. Feeling the chill of the winter breeze, I stare at the solitary light coming off of a streetlamp. Silence and calmness. These are the things I need in this moment.
I'll say that it's some sort of a personal tradition. I always spend some time alone before the beginning of a performance. It's my effort to stay respectful to music; when I perform, I want nothing to stand in between myself and music. Only when the canvas is blank can a painter truly fill it with the strokes of his brush. It's same with me; I need to empty my mind of all noises before I can play anything. So I stand here, in the parking lot, listening to the whispers of the breeze, the clicking sound of my shoes, and the crispy noises of leaves sweeping the ground. From afar, in the darkness, I can see the towering trees gently shaking in time with the breeze. I can see the stars illuminating in the pitch darkness. My only obligation is to seize this moment. Let my lungs be filled with chill air, and my mind be filled with the calmness of the scene.
I look at my watch again. Seven twenty-eight. I must go. I enter the building and walk towards the backstage. As I open the door, unpleasantly warm and stuffy air rushes out. The place is filled with noises, carrying that excitement just before the opening of a concert. I casually walk up to the stage with other members and put on my bass. The conductor steps onto the stage, and the audience ceases the conversations. Awkward silence. I can feel the tension on the rest of the band, but I am in my calmest mood. I am here to create something new, something different from the last rehearsal. I am here to seize every moment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get going; the show is about to begin. As usual, it begins with the counts.
One, two, three, four ...