your mind is lined with layers of lead, have you heard one thing i've said?
ahaha
good times
<3
this week has been very nice, very relaxing. UM was absolutely stunning. too bad i've come down with something.
these are the personal statements i sent to colleges. i laughed when i read these this morning; i'm applying the ucf honors program. they're so sentimental and cheesy, oh the best kind.
I. Personal Statement on an Interest
“Add more water,” he noted as he skimmed the edge of the desk.
“But,” I began.
“If you’re always worrying about the consequences, how on earth will you surprise yourself with your abilities? I promise you, just add water.”
An eager heart grasps at the moment as the damp bristles merge the deep bronze, golden, and rich fuchsia hues. They softly create a whirlpool of color, reminiscent of one glimpse of the western sunset from the shore of our local beach. The watercolors flow onto the paper akin only to the gentle movement of the ocean. The result was nothing less than beautiful.
Sometimes you’re lucky enough to discover a talent within yourself that you’ve neglected to recognize; a gift that quickly peels back a new and vibrant layer of skin bringing you closer to the ultimate reward of connecting with your “inner self.” An intoxicating breath of fresh air that rejuvenates the creativity running through the intricate veins of one’s existence. This new passion taught me about my innermost feelings and has given me the ability to embrace myself as a whole; this talent lies within the delicate bristles of a paint brush.
As a freckled, blue-eyed, and bouncing kindergartner, coloring on other children was among my many talents. (okay, maybe replacing “children” with “walls” would be more likely.) However, my true love for art wasn’t revealed until I met my sophomore teacher, Mr. Deaton. His outpouring affinity for teaching and seeing us succeed pushed me to jump into my artwork, carefree and less prohibited by my own inhibitions. He taught us that if one stays true to themselves and works free of limitation, their art will become, in essence, a reflection and a didactic spurt of insight into one’s self. I found a love that I can reach toward when expressing myself feels impossible, but even more, I learned to trust myself and experience a humble and thankful sense of pride for my achievements. I’ve learned that by grasping my talents and honing them, free of worry, I can create myself a lifelong passion.
II. Personal Statement on Family Background
As the daughter of a Kansas native and a Floridian mother, I’ve been blessed. Born without an existing grandfather, my cultural history has been outpouring from my grandmother since the day I was born. “Boyd Oil, oh yes! What a sight! Your grandfather was quite the entrepreneur...” she would ramble as she lovingly tapped her fingernails along my petite spine, reminiscing of her beloved husband. Her creativity was a vibrant reflection of her acquired wisdom. Her massages were something we longed for when she was gone and basked within when she was visiting. Her sense of touch still lies buried safely in the attic of my mind as she sits, often times lost, emotional, and lonely, in a retirement home in northern Kansas, presumably suffering from Alzheimer's.
Gone from her are half of the memories I hold so closely to my heart. She’ll never again relive the times I would make her laugh as I painted her silly pictures of us walking hand in hand, as I can recall them. Never again will she remember baking our “secret” recipe in the kitchen she created herself or giggling as we sat upon the tile floor picking up the collection of red ‘M&M’s’ I had spilled. My source of history is slowly fading and it’s taken so long for me to realize that I desperately want to reclaim it. More than anything, I want the history, the experiences, the trials and tribulations, the victories and the sorrows to be alive and awake.
As I wipe the tears from my eyes, I wonder why it’s taken a college essay for me to recall some of these memories. I wonder if my grandmother will ever recall the stories she once told me; is it my duty to record them for generations to come? She’s “the most worthy, caring, and empathetically loving” woman, as described by her childhood best friend and I’ve learned that I cannot agree more. I’m being forced to grow and look at the beauty that lies within the things that appear to be most depressing. This struggle continues to teach me, day by day, to gain a fresh perspective and an abstract appreciation for my surroundings. My grandmother continues to serve as one of my greatest inspirations for continuing my education and succeeding at whatever challenges life may bless me with.
:)
it was pretty damn nice to be told by my arch-enemy what a "fantastic" job i did on sunday when i was thrown into my own serving section after one, single night of training. how awesome. makes you feel good. especially after my miserable, yet bearable track record, lately.
things are going very well on the mother front.
stroke 9, phoenix, and carbon leaf are my newest discoveries
<3
good times
<3
this week has been very nice, very relaxing. UM was absolutely stunning. too bad i've come down with something.
these are the personal statements i sent to colleges. i laughed when i read these this morning; i'm applying the ucf honors program. they're so sentimental and cheesy, oh the best kind.
I. Personal Statement on an Interest
“Add more water,” he noted as he skimmed the edge of the desk.
“But,” I began.
“If you’re always worrying about the consequences, how on earth will you surprise yourself with your abilities? I promise you, just add water.”
An eager heart grasps at the moment as the damp bristles merge the deep bronze, golden, and rich fuchsia hues. They softly create a whirlpool of color, reminiscent of one glimpse of the western sunset from the shore of our local beach. The watercolors flow onto the paper akin only to the gentle movement of the ocean. The result was nothing less than beautiful.
Sometimes you’re lucky enough to discover a talent within yourself that you’ve neglected to recognize; a gift that quickly peels back a new and vibrant layer of skin bringing you closer to the ultimate reward of connecting with your “inner self.” An intoxicating breath of fresh air that rejuvenates the creativity running through the intricate veins of one’s existence. This new passion taught me about my innermost feelings and has given me the ability to embrace myself as a whole; this talent lies within the delicate bristles of a paint brush.
As a freckled, blue-eyed, and bouncing kindergartner, coloring on other children was among my many talents. (okay, maybe replacing “children” with “walls” would be more likely.) However, my true love for art wasn’t revealed until I met my sophomore teacher, Mr. Deaton. His outpouring affinity for teaching and seeing us succeed pushed me to jump into my artwork, carefree and less prohibited by my own inhibitions. He taught us that if one stays true to themselves and works free of limitation, their art will become, in essence, a reflection and a didactic spurt of insight into one’s self. I found a love that I can reach toward when expressing myself feels impossible, but even more, I learned to trust myself and experience a humble and thankful sense of pride for my achievements. I’ve learned that by grasping my talents and honing them, free of worry, I can create myself a lifelong passion.
II. Personal Statement on Family Background
As the daughter of a Kansas native and a Floridian mother, I’ve been blessed. Born without an existing grandfather, my cultural history has been outpouring from my grandmother since the day I was born. “Boyd Oil, oh yes! What a sight! Your grandfather was quite the entrepreneur...” she would ramble as she lovingly tapped her fingernails along my petite spine, reminiscing of her beloved husband. Her creativity was a vibrant reflection of her acquired wisdom. Her massages were something we longed for when she was gone and basked within when she was visiting. Her sense of touch still lies buried safely in the attic of my mind as she sits, often times lost, emotional, and lonely, in a retirement home in northern Kansas, presumably suffering from Alzheimer's.
Gone from her are half of the memories I hold so closely to my heart. She’ll never again relive the times I would make her laugh as I painted her silly pictures of us walking hand in hand, as I can recall them. Never again will she remember baking our “secret” recipe in the kitchen she created herself or giggling as we sat upon the tile floor picking up the collection of red ‘M&M’s’ I had spilled. My source of history is slowly fading and it’s taken so long for me to realize that I desperately want to reclaim it. More than anything, I want the history, the experiences, the trials and tribulations, the victories and the sorrows to be alive and awake.
As I wipe the tears from my eyes, I wonder why it’s taken a college essay for me to recall some of these memories. I wonder if my grandmother will ever recall the stories she once told me; is it my duty to record them for generations to come? She’s “the most worthy, caring, and empathetically loving” woman, as described by her childhood best friend and I’ve learned that I cannot agree more. I’m being forced to grow and look at the beauty that lies within the things that appear to be most depressing. This struggle continues to teach me, day by day, to gain a fresh perspective and an abstract appreciation for my surroundings. My grandmother continues to serve as one of my greatest inspirations for continuing my education and succeeding at whatever challenges life may bless me with.
:)
it was pretty damn nice to be told by my arch-enemy what a "fantastic" job i did on sunday when i was thrown into my own serving section after one, single night of training. how awesome. makes you feel good. especially after my miserable, yet bearable track record, lately.
things are going very well on the mother front.
stroke 9, phoenix, and carbon leaf are my newest discoveries
<3