Hey guys, these are my UC essays for the two individual personal statements. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. thanks!
Prompt #1
Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
The weight of snow can be crushing. It's ironic, really, how something so airy, so minuscule, can turn into a substance of entrapment. And that's where I found myself: trapped in snow. I was alone, atop of Mammoth Mountain, with no one and nothing around me.
Being stuck at the top of the Sierras really puts things into perspective, and that afternoon, I found a new respect for the sport I love: snowboarding. From my youth, I had marveled at the feats of the professionals in this industry, and in my ambition I vocalized that I yearned to imitate them. I was laughed at by both family and friends for this repeatedly; it was understandable, I suppose, when you consider that making a career out of hurdling down a 14,000 foot precipice at sixty miles an hour isn't exactly a 'safe work path.' But they failed to realize that 'safe work' never really appealed to my senses. Numerous individuals make substantial careers crunching numbers behind desks-including my father-and enjoy doing it. I, however, am extremely spatial in nature, and the thought of being trapped in a cubicle horrified me (and it still does). Movement is vital to my daily existence, and a small dose of danger helps to feed my 'Y' chromosome as well. Thus, my ambition with snowboarding led to obsession, and consequently I convinced myself of the capacity I possessed to succeed. Sure there were obstacles, but in the mind of a young boy invincibility was a reality - I had no limits to dangers I put myself to. This mentality is how I found myself here, stuck waist-deep in powder snow as eighty mile-an-hour winds howled around me at 11,000 feet.
Since I was only thirteen at the time, I was horror struck at the thought of hypothermia, frostbite, or even death. Not being able to see your arms outstretched in front of you isn't exactly the most comforting circumstance for a young teenager. Yet in the heat of the storm, calm came over me. I realized that the professionals in this industry really were beasts of men-dangerous men-who knew exactly what they were doing. I realized that at a mere age of thirteen, the odds were stacked against me, and that my invincible mentality would ironically lead to my fall. I realized that perhaps failure leads to success, because in reality perfection is a false idol. I dug myself out, picked myself up, and charged down the mountain with a new vigor. I realized, as my Uncle Don repeatedly tells me, "difficulties strengthen the mind as labor strengthens the body." For the first time in my youth, the whisper of failure never sounded so sweet.
Life has obstacles, and rather than being discouraged by these roadblocks, I have realized that such adversity is really opportunity. The dream of being a professional snowboarder has departed from me, but my passion for the industry is still there, and I have shifted my visions to work in snowboarding, somehow, someday. As Napoleon Hill states, "If you think you can, you can!" And I will.
Prompt #2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?
It is often said that without art, the earth is just 'eh.' ClichĂŠ? Perhaps. But the fact remains that this planet has so much to offer in terms of its genetic makeup. Light can do phenomenal things when it is manipulated correctly, and that is why the aspect of photography has come to define me in recent years.
Life behind the lens is so often misinterpreted. In the modern age of digital photography, it can be all too easy to label what is actually a snapshot a piece of art. No. The art of photography is more than just pointing and shooting. It is defined in the origin of the word itself; as defined by the Greeks, it is the writing (-graph) of light (photo-). As my fingers contour around that sleek, magnesium Canon, I strive to capture what my iris sees in the viewfinder. Yet I don't merely shoot anything-I shoot with a purpose. I shoot to make you think. Emptiness is not what I strive to render in works, and there is absolutely nothing of substance in the lowly objects that surround one's habitat. Consequently, I rarely capture landscapes; emotion lacks there, and emotion is pivotal to express a meaning, a value, through art. My subject may be subtle, but it is definite, for there is nothing worse than a brilliant image of a fuzzy concept. I strive for one to be lost in my works. At the same time, I don't.
Photography is not the pretty lady of art. It is bloody. It is sweaty. It is waiting in a field of bramble for four hours, firing a shutter 836 times to simply get the one image, the perfect encapsulation of smoke wisping around the sun. It is being rejected for 13 jobs but shooting the 14th with the pursuit of being meticulous. And that is why I love it. It has created a passion of perseverance within me, one that has shaped me into a determined persona. Truthfully, I am proud of that. Am I a professional? Ha. I'm an eighteen year old male who taught himself with mother's Christmas present so many years ago. Call it what you want. But it is what I am. I am often asked what my favorite picture I have captured is. It is always the same one: the one I will take tomorrow.
Prompt #1
Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
The weight of snow can be crushing. It's ironic, really, how something so airy, so minuscule, can turn into a substance of entrapment. And that's where I found myself: trapped in snow. I was alone, atop of Mammoth Mountain, with no one and nothing around me.
Being stuck at the top of the Sierras really puts things into perspective, and that afternoon, I found a new respect for the sport I love: snowboarding. From my youth, I had marveled at the feats of the professionals in this industry, and in my ambition I vocalized that I yearned to imitate them. I was laughed at by both family and friends for this repeatedly; it was understandable, I suppose, when you consider that making a career out of hurdling down a 14,000 foot precipice at sixty miles an hour isn't exactly a 'safe work path.' But they failed to realize that 'safe work' never really appealed to my senses. Numerous individuals make substantial careers crunching numbers behind desks-including my father-and enjoy doing it. I, however, am extremely spatial in nature, and the thought of being trapped in a cubicle horrified me (and it still does). Movement is vital to my daily existence, and a small dose of danger helps to feed my 'Y' chromosome as well. Thus, my ambition with snowboarding led to obsession, and consequently I convinced myself of the capacity I possessed to succeed. Sure there were obstacles, but in the mind of a young boy invincibility was a reality - I had no limits to dangers I put myself to. This mentality is how I found myself here, stuck waist-deep in powder snow as eighty mile-an-hour winds howled around me at 11,000 feet.
Since I was only thirteen at the time, I was horror struck at the thought of hypothermia, frostbite, or even death. Not being able to see your arms outstretched in front of you isn't exactly the most comforting circumstance for a young teenager. Yet in the heat of the storm, calm came over me. I realized that the professionals in this industry really were beasts of men-dangerous men-who knew exactly what they were doing. I realized that at a mere age of thirteen, the odds were stacked against me, and that my invincible mentality would ironically lead to my fall. I realized that perhaps failure leads to success, because in reality perfection is a false idol. I dug myself out, picked myself up, and charged down the mountain with a new vigor. I realized, as my Uncle Don repeatedly tells me, "difficulties strengthen the mind as labor strengthens the body." For the first time in my youth, the whisper of failure never sounded so sweet.
Life has obstacles, and rather than being discouraged by these roadblocks, I have realized that such adversity is really opportunity. The dream of being a professional snowboarder has departed from me, but my passion for the industry is still there, and I have shifted my visions to work in snowboarding, somehow, someday. As Napoleon Hill states, "If you think you can, you can!" And I will.
Prompt #2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?
It is often said that without art, the earth is just 'eh.' ClichĂŠ? Perhaps. But the fact remains that this planet has so much to offer in terms of its genetic makeup. Light can do phenomenal things when it is manipulated correctly, and that is why the aspect of photography has come to define me in recent years.
Life behind the lens is so often misinterpreted. In the modern age of digital photography, it can be all too easy to label what is actually a snapshot a piece of art. No. The art of photography is more than just pointing and shooting. It is defined in the origin of the word itself; as defined by the Greeks, it is the writing (-graph) of light (photo-). As my fingers contour around that sleek, magnesium Canon, I strive to capture what my iris sees in the viewfinder. Yet I don't merely shoot anything-I shoot with a purpose. I shoot to make you think. Emptiness is not what I strive to render in works, and there is absolutely nothing of substance in the lowly objects that surround one's habitat. Consequently, I rarely capture landscapes; emotion lacks there, and emotion is pivotal to express a meaning, a value, through art. My subject may be subtle, but it is definite, for there is nothing worse than a brilliant image of a fuzzy concept. I strive for one to be lost in my works. At the same time, I don't.
Photography is not the pretty lady of art. It is bloody. It is sweaty. It is waiting in a field of bramble for four hours, firing a shutter 836 times to simply get the one image, the perfect encapsulation of smoke wisping around the sun. It is being rejected for 13 jobs but shooting the 14th with the pursuit of being meticulous. And that is why I love it. It has created a passion of perseverance within me, one that has shaped me into a determined persona. Truthfully, I am proud of that. Am I a professional? Ha. I'm an eighteen year old male who taught himself with mother's Christmas present so many years ago. Call it what you want. But it is what I am. I am often asked what my favorite picture I have captured is. It is always the same one: the one I will take tomorrow.