“But when at last the father finished it, he poised himself, and lightly floating in the winnowed air waved his great feathered wings with bird-like ease. And, likewise he had fashioned for his son such wings; before they ventured in the air he said, “My son, I caution you to keep the middle way, for if your pinions dip too low the waters may impede your flight; and if they soar too high the sun may scorch them. Fly midway. Gaze not at the boundless sky, far Ursa Major and Bootes next. Nor on Orion with his flashing brand, but follow my safe guidance.” As he spoke he fitted on his son the plumed wings with trembling hands, while down his withered cheeks the tears were falling. Then he gave his son a last kiss, and upon his gliding wings assumed a careful lead solicitous. As when the bird leads forth her tender young, from high-swung nest to try the yielding air; so he prevailed on willing Icarus; encouraged and instructed him in all the fatal art; and as he waved his wings looked backward on his son. Beneath their flight, the fisherman while casting his long rod, or the tired shepherd leaning on his crook, or the rough plowman as he raised his eyes, astonished might observe them on the wing, and worship them as Gods.” - Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book 8 The tragic tale of Icarus is perhaps one of the more famous myths in Greek Mythology, falling short of Homer’s greatest epics: the Iliad and the Odyssey. It is, like many Greek stories, a cautionary tale about the dangers of hubris. Young Icarus and his father, the great inventor Daedalus, are trapped in Crete by King Minos. Daedalus creates wings of wax and feathers for himself and his son to escape by air, as their path was blocked by land and sea. During the flight, however, Icarus becomes proud of his triumph over the sky and climbs high above the clouds to the sun; the heat from which melts his wings, causing the boy to fall to his death into the sea. The myth is very well remembered today, often being used in modern stories through allusions and metaphors—for example, the phrase ‘flew too close to the sun’ originates from this tale. The uses of the story today consistently tie back to the moral of the myth. Hubris only leads to the fall of man. The warnings against hubris within the myth are conveyed through the constant foreshadowing of Icarus’s demise, Icarus’s direct defiance of his father's warnings, and through Daedalus’s showcased relationship with his son. The theme of an imminent death is present throughout the entire myth. The text consistently makes a point of acknowledging Icarus’s every action, feeling, and experience as his last. This is especially evident through the line “Then he gave his son a last kiss, and upon his gliding wings assumed a careful lead solicitous.” (Ovid) This line foreshadows—or really, directly addresses—Icarus’s coming death in two ways. The emphasis on the kiss Daedalus gives his son being the last is the most direct indicator, making the father’s plight all the more tragic: he loves his son dearly, yet he has no choice but to unintentionally lead him to his death. Additionally, the use of the word ‘solicitous’ is a more indirect way of foreshadowing doom, as it draws more attention to Daedalus’s feelings regarding this escape. Daedalus himself feels the impending tragedy and is anxious as he leads his son in flight. The foreboding is showcased in not just the narration of the myth, but also through the characters’ described feelings. Not only is Icarus’s death foreshadowed throughout the myth, but his father directly tells him about what would soon be his demise—Daedalus warns his son of the dangers, a warning that the moral of the myth relies on. He tells his son to fly to the middle of the sky, avoiding the waters and the sun that may impede his flight. He tells Icarus, “Gaze not at the boundless sky, far Ursa Major and Bootes next. Nor on Orion with his flashing brand, but follow my safe guidance.” (Ovid) Icarus being warned of the dangers makes his death his fault, allowing the myth to be used as a cautionary tale of hubris. He knew that he should not be flying so close to the sun, and yet he did anyway, thinking himself invulnerable due to his success at flight and climbing higher against his father's wishes. Had Icarus kept close to his father and followed behind him, both would have made a safe escape; yet Icarus was young and foolish. Furthermore, this warning from his father showcases Daedalus’s deep care for his son, an aspect of the myth that is critical to the moral. Daedalus’s tears are not something that is discussed very often, with the focus of the myth instead being Icarus’s fall. While it is understandable that the focus of the myth is often placed on what could be considered the climax of the story, it is something that does the myth a great disservice. As Daedalus fits his son with the wings and warns him of the dangers, his emotional state is described, “...he fitted on his son the plumed wings with trembling hands, while down his withered cheeks the tears were falling.” (Ovid) Daedalus loved his son dearly, and he cried because he, as shown by his described anxiety, had the foresight to know the flight wouldn’t go well. However, he believed he had no other choice for him and his son to escape. This makes the loss of Icarus all the more tragic, and makes the warning against hubris that the myth is meant to provide have much more meaning. In order for the reader to understand and learn from the moral of the myth, they must feel the death of Icarus; they must be able to understand the tragedy of his loss to connect with why a mistake like his must be avoided. While it is true that the fact of Icarus’s youth at his time of death contributes to the tragedy, the most emotionally effective aspect is that his father witnessed his death and could do nothing to aid him. The death of Icarus is remembered so well today for good reason. Although it has a similar moral to many other Greek myths, it is unique because Icarus is a child. Most stories of hubris in ancient Greece tell of great heroes who become too proud of their accomplishments. Icarus, in contrast, was a young boy who got caught up in the adrenaline of doing the impossible. This aspect of the myth makes it much more relatable to everyday people: very few ordinary people can call themselves heroes, but almost all can say they’ve been caught up in their own excitement and gotten too proud of an accomplishment. The story of Icarus works as a cautionary tale for anyone, which is evident through the common phrase that it has inspired. The warning of the dangers of hubris that allows it to be used in this way is made clear to the reader via the foreshadowing present throughout the myth, Icarus’s mistake being due to his own informed actions, and through Daedalus’s clear love for his son. Without these vital aspects of the myth, it simply would not have the same impact upon the reader as it does.

When I was 13 my mother suffered a stroke due to a negative reaction from the covid vaccine—a reaction only 10 in 100,000 people experienced. Thankfully it was minor, and she would eventually recover, but she was hospitalized for months. This occurred around the book-end of the pandemic, from which my grades had already suffered immensely. I struggled greatly in adapting to online schooling, and so my grades had dropped during the lockdown, and then dropped further due to my Mom's sudden health decline. The failures in my 7th grade report card led to me being removed from honors classes, so my goal in 8th grade was to get back to the level I had fallen from. However, my mother’s condition caused me so much stress that I failed to, and I entered High School in academic classes. In my Freshman year, I found myself trapped in an incredibly exhaustive learning environment. Not because of difficulty, but because of the lack of challenge. By the time my Algebra 1 teacher finished explaining the first problem on an assignment I would have completed both sides of the paper. All of my close friends were in AP and honors classes, and this left me feeling incredibly alone throughout the day. I only saw people I recognized and could talk to during lunch; after which I was back to being the quiet kid with all of his work finished half an hour early. I was deprived of much of the social interaction I craved, and felt just as isolated from my peers as I had in quarantine. Not only did I feel alone because I struggled with making new friends among my classmates, but I also felt abandoned by my previous counselors in Middle School. The school had been well aware of my mother’s condition; my counselor even had meetings with me, offering me condolences and hollow words of support. Despite promises of understanding, I was given no grace in terms of my previous failings. I was already forced to retake Pre-Algebra, a subject I understood completely, because of my failure to adjust to online learning. Despite my ability to mostly bounce slightly back the next year (although not quite to a level I was satisfied with), I was denied the opportunity to return to higher level classes. I felt as though none of the adults around me understood what I had gone through—I got the impression that despite my personal issues interfering greatly with my ability to keep up with school work, the responsibility of my past Fs were placed squarely on my shoulders with zero opportunity for me to object. One year of poor grades and suddenly I was less than I was before, no longer recognized as a good student despite my desperate attempts to return to the classes I could enjoy. I was told that they’d be there to assist me and that my struggles would be recognized, yet no actions reflected that. But I didn’t want to be stuck at rock bottom. I was incredibly disheartened that my High School transcript would be damaged in my eyes, weakened by classes and challenge levels I knew I could do better than. Even if my grades in academic classes were outstanding. However, I took this disappointment and shame that I felt for my failings, and instead channeled it into bettering what I thought wasn't good enough. I was inspired by the urge to prove myself. I wanted to show that I was still an excellent student capable of being on par with my peers. I worked hard in my classes with the hopes that I could convince my new teachers and counselors that I could excel in higher level classes, and maybe I could turn my following High School years into more of a challenge for myself. I was successful. I write this during my free time after completing my work in AP Literature. My Mom promised to proofread this essay. I have strived every day in my classes since I succeeded in returning to honors and AP courses to help others struggling in their classes and step up to aid anyone who needs it. Hopefully, I've managed to make it so that at least one person will not feel as alone as I once did. I’m grateful to myself for pushing through, as it has given me the opportunity to be proud of myself again rather than disappointed in all my shortcomings. Whatever happens next, I only hope my College years will treat me just as well.

As someone who wants to pursue animation as a career, it is rather expected that I have a great appreciation for animated works. Films, of course, are no exception to this. In my life, I have been greatly inspired by a number of films over the years, and perhaps a shining example of all that I admire in animated films is Dreamwork's 1998 film The Prince of Egypt. Every aspect of this film is a masterful demonstration of immense skill by the entire team to work on the project, and by extension, it represents everything I hope to one day achieve in my career. Despite being directly adapted from the story of Prince Moses in the Book of Exodus, the film manages to not feel like a “biblical” movie in the traditional sense of what one would imagine from the description. It does not feel like it is preaching to its audience, which is a pit that is easy for movies based on the Bible to fall into. It is more than an adaptation, although it is an incredibly faithful one, and rather feels as though it is genuinely trying to tell a story to its audience, as films should be. It has no motives to spread the word of God to the audience; it only wants to tell an important moral lesson about equality. As someone who appreciates writing as much as they appreciate visual art, I greatly admire the way the film treats its source material with the care a religious story is entitled to. In my personal works, I take great inspiration from ancient Greek stories, which are now part of the modern day revival of ancient Greek religion—Hellenism. I hope that my works carry a similar level of respect and care shown towards my source material as The Price of Egypt does towards its own. Although I very much appreciate the film for its brilliant storytelling, I must admit that the true main reason I find myself drawn to it is its artistry. Every shot in the film is a beautiful display of cinematography, each composition conveying emotion and purpose. Every character is hand drawn frame by frame, mixing 2d and 3d animation between the characters and the backgrounds. This dedication to the visuals in helping to tell the story and amplify the audience’s emotions contributed greatly to the four year long production of the film, while other films animated in similar ways took half the time. On top of all of this, the animation for the main character, Moses, was directed by one of my biggest inspirations in the field of animation: James Baxter. His contributions to the project makes me love the film even more, as he is someone I have looked up to since I was a kid interested in animation. Although I do love The Prince of Egypt as a film, it represents much more than that to me. It is a demonstration of all the aspects of creative works that I wish to one day release into the world. I hold this masterfully crafted film close to my heart as an inspiration to my work, and I can only hope to make something in its shadow. In terms of the esteem that I hold the film in, I would be proud to create something even a fraction of the quality that The Prince of Egypt exudes in its writing and animation.

I have been enamoured with writing since I was incredibly young. To this day, I still possess the first story I ever wrote; it wasn’t of the highest quality, of course, but I hold it dear to my heart as a symbol of my progress as a writer. It was a simple, picture-book sort of short story about an anthorpromorphic cat named Twirl. He searched the land for a treasure rumored to grant any wish and met several friends along the way, who followed him and aided him in his journey. In the end he wished for a home on the mountain their journey ended on, the live happily with the animals he now called family. Although the story was original, the characters were rather not: one of the animal sidekicks I gave to Twirl was a rainbow fish, taken from the story of the same name. However, I do not shame my younger self for this blatant copying—personally, I agree with the idea that all creatives get their best start through mimicking. Many of my first stories were assembled from various inspirations, and in a way, all ideas are. Any creative work falls victim to the same idea that everyone, as people, are made up of all the people they’ve met in their lives. I believe that my writing is very much the same way, as original I believe the writings themselves are. I hope that it is clear this first story was not my only foray into writing, and my interest in the craft has only grown since then. English has always been my favorite subject, and the one I excel in the most. Reading is a genuine passion of mine alongside writing, an aspect of my interest in literature that I believe has also aided in my journey to becoming a better writer. As a testament to my interest in writing, I have been in my Highschool’s Writer’s Club since my Sophomore year, and currently am the vice president of the club. As is a given with being a club officer, I am one of the most active members, and am certainly the most prolific writer in the club—I am the only member to have written a story or poem for every large event we have held in all my years in the club. Of course, I do not want my journey as a writer to end in high school. Currently, in various documents on my personal laptop, I have several different story ideas for works that extend from novels to TV series. The novel I am currently working on is the story of a single mother taking care of her foster son, who is in a battle with stage four stomach cancer. It is this story that I believe is a prime example of my current story writing style: realism. I quite enjoy writing stories about people you could pass by on the street. I like making my conflicts about someone you could find yourself sitting next to on the bus one day. It is a story like this that, if I ever get the opportunity to, I would like to have published. If I ever find myself so lucky to have a book on store shelves, then I only hope that I won’t be satisfied there. I hope that I use that as further motivation to continue my work and turn more of my ideas into a reality.