So I'm applying to SUNY Purchase's Film Conservatory pretty much as we speak, everything has to be in by wednesday, 2 days away so I want to get everything in. The conservatory is extremely competetive (only about 20 students get in each year from a couple hundred applicants) and its my top school so I really really need to get in, its pretty much the only school on my list that I can afford to go to and I love the school. So, the essay prompt was to write a 1.5 page auto-biographical essay and it could be about why you want to make films, why you want to go to purchase, an experience that made you realize you wanted to become a filmmaker, ect. I have literally spent months going over this essay and maybe I've just been looking at it for two long but I find it almost alittle boring so some fresh eyes would be great. Any help would be much appriciated:
I was standing in the shower, crying my eyes out. I was questioning, contemplating, "What am I going to do with my life?" At the time, everyone around me seemed so sure of themselves and where they were going. Everywhere I went I met another future doctor, future astronaut, future anything; but what was my future? I was standing in the shower, tears streaming down my face. I was eight years old.
I grew up with a book in my hand and although the title was constantly changing, it did not change the fact that there was always one there. I was captivated with the world of fiction and the stories it brought to life. On any given day it would not have been a rarity to find me outside in the grass with my nose tucked in between two pages and my mind off in some new uncharted territory. But as I got older and my head began its descent from the clouds, the sad realization set in that I was never going to be Bilbo Baggins and there was no magical world on the other side of my closet. I reached for the shampoo. The gritty mess which flows from my family's well (jokingly referred to as "water") splashed down all around me as the sweet smell of Sulfur filled the air; the price paid for living in a middle-of-no-where town known only first for being the UFO capital of the east coast and second for its unprecedented population of rednecks. I thought to myself, "This is it. My life is on a downward spiral to becoming completely excitement free." You see at the time I had a very skewed misconception of the world. I saw it as a place where people got old and got boring; where they lost their passions and feelings of purpose to fit into a mold of normality. To me, that was depression. I longed for something more, something greater than the ordinary. Then suddenly, it hit me.
I reached for the conditioner. I thought, "Lives like the ones I've always dreamed of don't exist, but their stories do. So if I can't have a life of fantasy, why not create one? Why not craft the most extravagant of tales where the only limitation is the parameters of my own mind? And perhaps, my stories could even lead others to rediscover too the things that they had once dreamed of but forgotten." I stood there, marveling in my moment of self-discovery. A chill went up my spine; a quick shiver, a readjustment of heat. I thought, "But I don't only want to share my stories, I want to show them. I don't want people to be left trying to imagine what I had described or struggling to piece together hidden meanings based upon false inferences. No, I want to be able to put something before someone and say this is exactly what I see, what I mean, what I feel. I want my imagination to come alive, and not just in words but rather right before my very own eyes." So it was here that the romance was born.
I had always loved films and the way in which they always seemed to be carrying me off to exotic, unseen, or even unreal places. It was the sounds, the colors, the characters, the emotions. It was the ability held by a story, or an image, or even a single line to inspire me to imagine something new of my own. It was the ideas that had never before even crossed my mind, causing me to look at something with new eyes. It was all of these things which gave way to my infatuation. I loved how I could follow a stranger through all of their life's struggles in just a small moment of time, and after, I could feel as if somehow I had been a part of that journey. I loved the feeling that would linger for days after seeing a good film, a sort of strange excitement mixed with an unquenchable desire to make something of my own. It was that same feeling that would cause me to sit for hours pondering over ways in which I could have improved upon the story; what I would have done differently if given the chance. I simply got to a point where everything around me would make me want to watch different films and each time I watched a film, I'd want to make one of my own. It always causes a little bit of envy, though I must admit. I would find myself watching as the credits rolled, as all the different names went by, hoping that maybe someday my name would be the cause of someone else's envy. But regardless of wherever I would end up, whether my name be first on the list or straggling on at the bottom, I now knew the path which I wanted to take to get there.
I was standing in the shower, the tears had stopped. I had it, the answer to the question that had started this whole sad display - "What am I going to do with my life?" I was going to dream and to create. I was going to watch as many films as I could get my hands on and learn from them the art of the industry. I was going to work hard in school so that when it came time to applying for college, I could go to the very best school for my desired field. When I started the whole college process and began to really search out what would be the best choice for myself, I made a list. On this list were written things which I specifically wanted in a school and things which I specifically needed in a school. For example, I wanted to enroll in a program which offered hands on learning in production from the very beginning. Since already spending half of each school day over the last year and a half in a film production class in which a majority of the activities done were hands on - allowing me to become familiar with the equipment, the software, and the method to the madness of film - it would feel as if I were taking a step back to join a program where it could be years before I even touch another camera in class. Furthermore, I wanted to find a program that is smaller and less congested than some of the schools which are bigger in name but lesser in quality and experience. I would like to be able to become well acquainted with my professors and the other students in the program, while having the opportunity to receive one on one instruction from individuals who have spent their lives in the industry. Location was also an important factor on my list. I wished to find a school that would be far enough to get away and start fresh on the next chapter of my life, but close enough not to forget the old. I also desired a school near to New York City; a goldmine of opportunity for young filmmakers. The list went on, but at the moment that is not important. What is important is that when I left from the visit I took to SUNY Purchase, I was a little startled. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of me; the stress of trying to find a school which checked off on everything that I was looking for. Truly, Purchase checks off. So naturally I spent the next few months driving myself to the edge of insanity preparing my application for Purchase's Film Conservatory in the hopes that the admissions committee would see in me what I saw in the program that day; a perfect fit. It's just funny how the world works and how a lifelong endeavor can start in the most peculiar of places. You know most people wait their whole lives to discover their passion and purpose, but mine found me in a shower when I was eight years old and it hasn't left since; it never will.
Sooo please I need some feedback. and if any one can think of maybe another way in which I could end it that may be a little less drab would save my life.
Thanks :)
I was standing in the shower, crying my eyes out. I was questioning, contemplating, "What am I going to do with my life?" At the time, everyone around me seemed so sure of themselves and where they were going. Everywhere I went I met another future doctor, future astronaut, future anything; but what was my future? I was standing in the shower, tears streaming down my face. I was eight years old.
I grew up with a book in my hand and although the title was constantly changing, it did not change the fact that there was always one there. I was captivated with the world of fiction and the stories it brought to life. On any given day it would not have been a rarity to find me outside in the grass with my nose tucked in between two pages and my mind off in some new uncharted territory. But as I got older and my head began its descent from the clouds, the sad realization set in that I was never going to be Bilbo Baggins and there was no magical world on the other side of my closet. I reached for the shampoo. The gritty mess which flows from my family's well (jokingly referred to as "water") splashed down all around me as the sweet smell of Sulfur filled the air; the price paid for living in a middle-of-no-where town known only first for being the UFO capital of the east coast and second for its unprecedented population of rednecks. I thought to myself, "This is it. My life is on a downward spiral to becoming completely excitement free." You see at the time I had a very skewed misconception of the world. I saw it as a place where people got old and got boring; where they lost their passions and feelings of purpose to fit into a mold of normality. To me, that was depression. I longed for something more, something greater than the ordinary. Then suddenly, it hit me.
I reached for the conditioner. I thought, "Lives like the ones I've always dreamed of don't exist, but their stories do. So if I can't have a life of fantasy, why not create one? Why not craft the most extravagant of tales where the only limitation is the parameters of my own mind? And perhaps, my stories could even lead others to rediscover too the things that they had once dreamed of but forgotten." I stood there, marveling in my moment of self-discovery. A chill went up my spine; a quick shiver, a readjustment of heat. I thought, "But I don't only want to share my stories, I want to show them. I don't want people to be left trying to imagine what I had described or struggling to piece together hidden meanings based upon false inferences. No, I want to be able to put something before someone and say this is exactly what I see, what I mean, what I feel. I want my imagination to come alive, and not just in words but rather right before my very own eyes." So it was here that the romance was born.
I had always loved films and the way in which they always seemed to be carrying me off to exotic, unseen, or even unreal places. It was the sounds, the colors, the characters, the emotions. It was the ability held by a story, or an image, or even a single line to inspire me to imagine something new of my own. It was the ideas that had never before even crossed my mind, causing me to look at something with new eyes. It was all of these things which gave way to my infatuation. I loved how I could follow a stranger through all of their life's struggles in just a small moment of time, and after, I could feel as if somehow I had been a part of that journey. I loved the feeling that would linger for days after seeing a good film, a sort of strange excitement mixed with an unquenchable desire to make something of my own. It was that same feeling that would cause me to sit for hours pondering over ways in which I could have improved upon the story; what I would have done differently if given the chance. I simply got to a point where everything around me would make me want to watch different films and each time I watched a film, I'd want to make one of my own. It always causes a little bit of envy, though I must admit. I would find myself watching as the credits rolled, as all the different names went by, hoping that maybe someday my name would be the cause of someone else's envy. But regardless of wherever I would end up, whether my name be first on the list or straggling on at the bottom, I now knew the path which I wanted to take to get there.
I was standing in the shower, the tears had stopped. I had it, the answer to the question that had started this whole sad display - "What am I going to do with my life?" I was going to dream and to create. I was going to watch as many films as I could get my hands on and learn from them the art of the industry. I was going to work hard in school so that when it came time to applying for college, I could go to the very best school for my desired field. When I started the whole college process and began to really search out what would be the best choice for myself, I made a list. On this list were written things which I specifically wanted in a school and things which I specifically needed in a school. For example, I wanted to enroll in a program which offered hands on learning in production from the very beginning. Since already spending half of each school day over the last year and a half in a film production class in which a majority of the activities done were hands on - allowing me to become familiar with the equipment, the software, and the method to the madness of film - it would feel as if I were taking a step back to join a program where it could be years before I even touch another camera in class. Furthermore, I wanted to find a program that is smaller and less congested than some of the schools which are bigger in name but lesser in quality and experience. I would like to be able to become well acquainted with my professors and the other students in the program, while having the opportunity to receive one on one instruction from individuals who have spent their lives in the industry. Location was also an important factor on my list. I wished to find a school that would be far enough to get away and start fresh on the next chapter of my life, but close enough not to forget the old. I also desired a school near to New York City; a goldmine of opportunity for young filmmakers. The list went on, but at the moment that is not important. What is important is that when I left from the visit I took to SUNY Purchase, I was a little startled. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of me; the stress of trying to find a school which checked off on everything that I was looking for. Truly, Purchase checks off. So naturally I spent the next few months driving myself to the edge of insanity preparing my application for Purchase's Film Conservatory in the hopes that the admissions committee would see in me what I saw in the program that day; a perfect fit. It's just funny how the world works and how a lifelong endeavor can start in the most peculiar of places. You know most people wait their whole lives to discover their passion and purpose, but mine found me in a shower when I was eight years old and it hasn't left since; it never will.
Sooo please I need some feedback. and if any one can think of maybe another way in which I could end it that may be a little less drab would save my life.
Thanks :)
