Passion seems like it's a hard thing to come by these days. Hard to get out of bed, hard to get off your phone, hard to get the tough work done. My hobbies inspire me to get the ball rolling, push through any obstacles to get to work on them, and give me a bit of spark in my everyday life. As a student at an art school, my most obvious hobby is art. Drawing, digitally or traditionally, usually helps me get through my day. I'll often just sketch in my sketchbook as I sit in a more boring class, or use a fun drawing as a reward to enjoy if I finish a piece of grueling homework. I love taking an image from my head and getting it translated onto paper or digital screen, and although sometimes my perfectionism can twist this and generate frustration from me, it's usually a very calming experience for me to start and finish a piece of art. My more unconventional hobby I have is reptile keeping. I've always found it strange that keeping a certain kind of pet is considered a 'hobby', as you don't really call owning a cat or a dog a 'hobby' unless you get really into training it, but by in large reptile keeping is considered a hobby. I just enjoy the animals for their beauty and uniqueness. Although you might say they don't love me as much as a cat does, it doesn't keep me from loving then. I believe that every human has some kind of hobby or has the potential to have a hobby. Without hobbies, and the passion to do things just for fun, life would be pretty dull.

Boucher's Hercules and Omphale from 1730 has struck me ever since I saw it. From the Rococo period, its intimacy and sensuality paired with the soft pinks, yellows, and blues of the two lovers creates an airy mood that just makes you feel in love to see their embrace. The Rococo period was only at its height for about 30 years before being hated and torn apart by the art world, critics of the like of Diderot sneering at the works being 'frivolous' and 'indulgent', scoffing at what they saw was senseless masses of flushed pink flesh. But it is so much more than that. The Rococo influences that pull these lovers together create the perfect balance of motion and passion, their love so intense that the cupids around them blush at the sight. Their bedding is crumpled up and wrinkled from their movement, and they kiss so passionately it looks like they might slip off their nest. The passion and glow of colors in this oil painting inspire me because of its intensity. The feelings this painting make me crave the crash-connection of love like Omphale and Hercules are sharing, and inspires me to create art that can have half of the intense feeling Boucher cultivated in his painting.

I am extremely a visual learner. I take pictures or screenshots of the materials provided by my teacher to paste into my notes so that I can look at something as I study it, using the visual connection of it to help me remember what I need for my class. It also helps me when my notes are digital, allowing me to read my notes back without worrying about my handwriting handicapping my ability to read what I've written. My fast typing speed allows me to type pretty much everything my professors say so that I can absorb all of the information they want me to know. There's no universal way to study. Every person's different, and requires vastly different studying methods to succeed in their class. This is something that is much more obvious in college than in high school, and is something I notice every day. One of my friend groups at college is very particular about the way they study. Because of the way they go about life, things have to be funny for them to engage with it. This highly contrasts with my ways of studying, as I like teaching and almost lecturing my notes to other people to help them understand it or going over my images to test my memory. To combine our methods of study, we've turned to little games like kahoot to allow us all to get the most out of our studying.

Creativity is every part of my life. Even from a young age, I imagined grand stories and worlds I or any creation of my imagination could live in and interact in, forming stories that grow in my head until they grow big enough for me to put them to paper. Creativity has been the one constant in my life since I was old enough to scribble on my parent's walls to now, as I work through my classes at an art college to perfect my craft, earn a degree, and move into the professional world. But I have a lot of college ahead of me- creativity allows me to craft pieces of art that not only I love, but my professors enjoy and advance my academic career. And hopefully this creativity will stay with me even longer and allow me to graduate college and enter the professional art world, where I can use my creativity even more and spread my wings. Without my creativity, I would be lost.

As human beings, I believe the meaning of life is to help those around us. For thousands of years were were pack hunters, taking care of small-knit communities and sticking together no matter what. There is even evidence of human ancestors with healed wounds that should have been fatal, meaning that they also had someone looking out for them there. I think that this sentiment has been almost forgotten by some people, in the pursuit of something mundane like fame and fortune they have forgotten one of the things that makes us human: compassion. There is no real way to achieve this, but that doesn't mean it's fruitless. To take care of your community should be a constant goal that is never quite completed. There is always something to do, someone to help, someone to teach or learn from or even just being someone who listens: everyone can do something to help those around them.

When most people hear the word 'legacy', the first thought is usually about being remembered forever and ever, having your name on signs, face on statues, and your ghost sprinkled across the thoughts of people for many years after your death. The thought of being immortalized for hundreds of years, let alone the rest of human history is a frightening thought. Years after your death, your life can be misinterpreted or construed a hundred different ways with no one left to correct the mistakes. To me, that's not a legacy I want. A million people to know my name and a little bit about what I've done or know me from some famous thing I was a part of- I don't need that. All I want is a net positive impact on the world. Whether it be learning how to be self-sustaining and passing that information on to others to help them be kinder to the enviornment, or helping my neighbors on a deep, personal, and consistent way, I want there to be a reflection of my life somewhere in the world. Even if I've been completely forgotten in a couple hundred years, all is well if I have helped even one person in a major way.

I knew I was at the very least queer from a very young age. Starting at 6th grade I began micro-identifying myself with every which label to describe the way I felt until I was able to just accept that I was a lesbian. I wasn't bi, or pan, or polysexual-with-some-exceptions - I was gay. I know that people attracted to more than one gender still face extreme prejudice and backlash for existing, but for some reason accepting the fact that I would never be happy dating a man and be able to pass as "normal" took all of middle school for me to accept. By high school, normal was thrown out the window for my loud, unapologetic self. I didn't really care who knew or didn't know about me being a lesbian, although I never bothered to tell my parents until after I graduated. I just existed, and if anyone had a problem with it I wasn't shy about yelling at them. Although I was fully myself, expressing everything how I want to express, I was incredibly lonely. I didn't have any other lesbian friends, or knew very many queer women at my high school to begin with, so outside of two or three friends, I was incredibly alone. I longed for a connection with someone constantly, to the point where it hurt to think about. I didn't date anyone (unless you count a 7-day online romance via ROBLOX of all places in the 7th grade) until my second semester of my senior year. I always told people when they had relationship troubles not to base their value on if they were in a relationship or not. I would tell them that there's always someone else out there, and wallowing over a relationship that was now in the past tense was stupid. I now understand how being in love with someone changes your perception of everything. My self-perception was completely flipped when I started dating my girlfriend, I stopped being so self-deprecating and miserable knowing that there was someone out there who knew me, saw every part of me, and still loved me as desperately as I loved them. She flushed hope into my hardened heart, and continues to make me a stronger person every day. I'm in college right now, attending an art school and pursuing a degree in illustration to one day be a professional artist to support me and my family. I would love to be a concept artist, and work in video games and movies to craft worlds and characters for media depictions. Me and my girlfriend also are big fans of reptiles and reptile keeping, and we both have a list of animals we want to have as a pet one day. She and I both have a big heart for nature and conservation, her a bit more than me, and hope to live somewhere we can be self-sustaining and care for the earth around us.

Art has always been a passion of mine. From being a ratty four-year-old with a crayon in her hand and the wall at her disposal, to now being a freshman at a well-established art college, art has always shaped my life and actions. My passion is driven by my urge to imagine and create, designing entire worlds with their own characters and stories for as long as I can remember. My creative passion has always existed and will always drive me to create, but there have been many obstacles in my life that have tried to bar me from my goal. When I was in elementary school, especially around 8 or 9, I was always the weird kid. I was sat away from most of my peers due to my teacher's fear of me talking too much, and I almost always had a book in my hand. I loved to read, loved to imagine the world the author put in front of me and imagine my own characters or even myself interacting with the world and the characters within it. I spent many a class period sketching the characters I put into these worlds, and I thought that they were absolutely riveting. My classmates, however, didn't see the magic in them that I did. I was often teased for my drawings, made fun of in so many ways that some I didn't even notice until years passed. It was hard to endure, and even harder to keep my creative passion alight, but I endured. Although they knew what I wanted to do for a living, my parents were incredibly wary of me going to an art college. I had spent all of high school taking art classes and honing my skills to prepare a portfolio for application, but the closer I came to applying to colleges, the more doubt everyone in my family expressed. They thought my skills were better suited elsewhere, at least in a place that made guaranteed money like veterinary medicine or the sciences, but I knew where my heart lied. Now that I'm in art school, my parents are a bit more supportive, but the doubt and fear they sowed into my heart was not easy to bear. Now, I've made it. The crayon-scribbled walls are behind me, and a future in art is ahead of me. The only barrier between me and that future is college and financing it. It's no secret that art school is expensive, and between 8-hour class days and homework, it's hard to find reliable places to work. This scholarship would ease a lot of the pressure of financing art school, allowing me to focus on my craft instead of the fees and balances that come with my degree. This scholarship and the gracious donors that have created it would allow me to pick up my crayons and scribble on the walls of the world of professional art.

One word: budgeting. I find too many of my friends lost in debt and money struggles because they spread their finances too thin between their indulgences and their needs. I have worked since I was sixteen years old, and I am constantly conscious of how much I spend in a day, week, or month to make sure I'm gaining more than I'm spending. Even something as small as eating something at home rather than buying fast food in a night or skipping out on a sweet treat helps in the long run and helps you manage self-control when it comes to buying things. Budgeting also helps you prevent impulse buying. It's very easy to see something on the shelf and instantly think 'I want it, I'm getting it,' and then you end up never touching the item again. Just taking a moment to stop and think when you would ever use the object and how often you would use the object helps you keep your bank balance in the positives. Although it's tempting, watching your budget is vital, especially as a college student.

Leaving an impact on the world seems like a daunting, impossible task at first read. How can I, amongst billions of other unique, talented, and inspiring individuals, leave even a scratch on the surface of the entire human experience? Upon first thought, you might think you have to do some incredible, influential action that people remember for generations. But you don't. You can leave a positive impact on the world by an action so small as slowing down in the road to let a squirrel pass or telling someone they look nice today. Small actions and small words can lead to further positive impacts, which is what I strive to push forward. I make it a goal to compliment at least three people a day, give them a little confidence boost, and self-assuredness so that they can pass their joy onto others. It might seem inconsequential to move an insect from the path of other people's feet, but that little bug could go on to feed another animal or feed on waste in the world that makes it a better place to exist in general. You don't have to impact the entire world at once to make the lives of a few a much better place to live.

There are many reasons why Vase with Twelve Sunflowers by Vincent van Gogh is my favorite piece of art in the entire art world. This painting has even made sunflowers my favorite flower, and has inspired me to plant around half a dozen each year. Compared to some of his other sunflower paintings, Vase with Twelve Sunflowers has a contrasting blue background that changes the mood of the piece. It goes from a hazy, happy feeling in the golden Sunflowers piece to a more energetic, hopeful mood in Vase with Twelve Sunflowers. The lore behind the piece is hearfelt as well, as it's told that these flowers were sent to Vincent by his brother during his stay in a mental institution. As someone who struggles with mental health, it warms my heart to know that his brother looked out for him no matter what, and as sunflowers represent gratitude, Vincent must have appreciated this sentiment as well.

It's not hard to believe that I was bullied when I was younger. My personality was not the bearable kind back then, and I carried many eccentric quirks I was ruthlessly harassed for. Not to mention my appearance when I was younger, crooked teeth, dry, ratty hair, mismatched clothes, and second-hand shoes- I definitely was not a part of the popular crowd. I had a handful of close, genuine friends, but for the most part, I was ostracized by my peers for my personality and appearance. It hurt me in many different ways. Being treated poorly by those around you can make you feel even uglier, even more annoying than the acrid words that shape the image in your mind, and even today I struggle with some of the things that my peers said to me. I felt awful throughout middle school. I felt like I didn't and would never fit in anywhere, and I began to believe every single poisonous word said to me. It got to the point where I believed I wouldn't survive to see my graduation because I assumed I would take my own life before my senior year. The journey to self-love is different for everyone. Some people have no problem on the path to accepting themselves, and others can never quite finish the journey because of how difficult it is. For me, it took almost to my junior year of high school to see myself in the mirror and recognize that I was someone who deserved good things, that I deserved to be around. It took years of my life to get over the harassment and toxic thoughts planted in my mind at a young age, but I was able to persevere. Although I still struggle with some of those self-hating ideals, I feel much better about myself now. Self-love helps me have the confidence to dress how I like, make and keep new friends, and the ability to believe in myself and my skills. This confidence helps me in my art and in my journey to art school, and if the ratty-haired kid who thought she'd die before she could even drive could see me now, I think she'd be happy.

The initial lockdown in March should have felt much scarier than it did. Hindsight is, of course, 2020, but when we all were told we weren't coming back after spring break, high schoolers were more happy than we were scared. Our jobs were out as well, and no teacher was prepared for online schooling, so for the most part we were free. Free to do whatever we wanted, as long as it was at home and away from other people. For me, it was no problem. I was able to spend much more time doing art than I had ever been able to do outside of the summer, and I was able to practice some skills and produce some of my favorite pieces of art. Because of this random break in the school year and in my job, I was able to practice the thing I actually want to do as a career. I will always remember the last day of school before spring break at my school in many different ways, but the positive effects are much more memorable to me.

To me, there's nothing more beautiful than creation. Sitting down and getting your hands dirty, using your blood, sweat, and tears to focus on something beautiful to show others; there's something almost holy in the process of it. Lovingly putting a piece of art together, stroke by stroke, until you create something divine: there's nothing like it. The practice of creating just for the sake of art is beautiful in itself, but many artists- no matter the medium- create for a certain purpose. Whether it be for a museum, to tell a story, or creating something for something else, every method of creation can produce something divine. In my artistic career, my ambition is to create concept art for movies, video games, and other media. I would love to get the opportunity to take someone else's ideas and translate their vision into reality. With this scholarship, I could much more easily afford art school and get that much closer to my dream. Design and visual storytelling has always been my passion in art. Even as a middle schooler, filling pages upon pages of sketchbooks with character designs and scenes from stories that took place within my head. I was never one to create art for movies or games that I liked, what truly brought me joy was creating art and designs for my own stories and characters in my head. I practiced time and time again, creating a character concept in my head and trying to birth that person onto paper until I created someone I was excited to think about. I still practice this today, and going to art school would help me refine my skills even further to become the best concept artist and creator that I can. Art is a very personal process. Its emotional connection varies from person to person, but I believe that every artist can agree on one thing about art: it makes them happy. Creating art makes me happy every time I do it, and getting assistance with my tuition for art school would help me be happy every day for the rest of my life.

Ten years after your death, who will remember you? Fifty years after your death, who will remember you? One hundred years after your death, who will remember you? Will it be your family or your community? Will it be those in your career field, or will it be the world? To me, legacy is the impact you leave on those who come after you, whether that be your children or people that you have inspired, your lasting impact on people and the world will be the legacy you leave behind. There are many different kinds of legacy. Not everyone can be a highly influential person, someone at the top of their field or someone with a hundred thousand followers. Sometimes a legacy is left behind in just a family, which is no less valuable than someone remembered by thousands. In my family, the legacy left behind by my great grandmother Alice lives on, from her son to her grandson, to me. My father constantly recollects the strong-willed attitude she had, and my grandmother constantly strives to imitate her recipes that we lost in a fire. Despite never meeting her, through her legacy I have obtained an idea of how she acted in life. Although her legacy doesn't extend much further than my immediate family, she still has an impact on people who learn about her. I have some fears when it comes to my legacy. Everyone wants to be remembered for years and years after they're gone, and I'm no exception. I'd love to have a lasting impact on the world, where my name is said time and time again after my death, but it isn't realistic. I believe everyone is afraid of being forgotten after their death in one way or another. There's always a chance: what if I'm forgotten? After my family and friends are gone, what if my memory dies with them? What if I'm lost to time, like countless other people who sit in decrepit, old, or unmarked graves? I'm sure it's a common thought, but the truth of the matter is that it simply doesn't matter. In one way or another, you still live on. Your influence on one person shapes their influence on others, spiraling on for generation after generation of influence from one person to another. Even if your name and memory aren't spoken of in a hundred years, your influence lives on in how you have shaped other people. And if my legacy only lives on in positive actions other people have experienced, I think I could rest easy.

I've thought about this question for a long time. What should constitute my all-time favorite film? Something I just enjoy watching, or something that's genuinely artistic and moves me? A late friend of mine once told me that the things I enjoy don't particularly have to be good, or what other people consider good: it just has to be good to me. Those words have inspired me in more ways than he could have ever imagined, and that's what I am going to base my response to this question on. My all-time favorite film is Mad Max: Fury Road. It helps that the same friend who inspired me so much also loved this movie, which increases my emotional attachment to it. The film is gorgeous, with stunning visuals of endless miles of sand and dark, bog-like environments where there were once trees. It's post-apocalypse at its best: terrifyingly beautiful. That doesn't even cover the amazing character design in the movie, with the main lead being a gorgeous disabled woman. Every character has design elements that tell the viewer about their personality, and it makes this film a moving piece of art. The story is rich and engaging as well as a political commentary about greed and hoarding wealth. The film moves me every time I watch it, I love to think that my old friend is watching it with me too.

@zucchjni. I am proud to be a part of the LGBTQ+ community because it's not just who I am, it's being a part of a supportive community of people who have experienced similar hardships in their life. Most of us know what it's like to be treated terribly for something we can't control, and because of that, we lift each other up and keep everyone looking forward.

I have been camping a lot in my life, ever since I could walk. With my family, with my friends, and with my scout troop, I've gone to many different places and done many different types of camping. There's nothing that compares to being deep in the woods, breathing in the smell of earth and the rich air. Although I don't plan on going into a career involving the great outdoors, I plan on camping as much as I can for the rest of my life and doing what I can to protect the environment. I've learned a lot of things being in the great outdoors. A lot of it was practical; skills like creating a survival shelter, fishing, hunting, tieing knots, cooking creative meals, and many more. But a lot of the things you learn being outside are spiritual. Appreciating nature, and everything it provides and valuing every part of it. From the spiders to the mosquitoes, the raccoon to the elk, every little creature plays a role in the ecosystem around us. When you're alone out there with only the trees to keep you company, sometimes you discover something about yourself. Being on public land and trails teaches a sadder lesson in nature: humanity's destruction of it. Entire days have to be dedicated to cleaning these areas of careless litter thrown across the ground, tainting the soil it touches, harming the animals that come across it, and breaking up the beautiful, natural scene nature brings. It saddens me to see, but in the litter, I had to learn something else: not everyone will appreciate or want to protect this great expanse of the outdoors. Not everyone loves the smell of the forest after it rains, not everyone loves to watch the birds flit between sun-spotted leaves. Not everyone cares whether or not that tree lives or dies, whether that baby opossum survives or not. It doesn't affect them directly, so they don't care. It was a hard lesson to learn, but that's just how some people are raised. I try to stand up for and protect nature where I can, participating in litter cleanup, trail maintenance, and planting saplings in vacant clearings to expand a forest. I wish everyone could learn the lesson of the peace that the wilderness can bring, but not everyone is willing to learn. So we must learn for them. Capturing landscapes and the wilderness is one of my favorite things to do in art. I love the way the sun makes the leaves look and how plants scatter the forest floors. There's so much to see and appreciate, and every little piece of forest is so different from the next. Without being able to draw and capture the love I have for the wilderness, I wouldn't have as much inspiration as I do now. Nature inspires me in everything that I do, and my art is no exception. In college, I want to learn how to fully capture my love for the great outdoors in my art for others to see, so I can hopefully teach the lesson of loving the wilderness to others.

The year 2020 will always be full of irony to me. We all used to joke about the wordplay. In 2019 we asked: "What are you going to do next year?" and the joke was "I don't know, I don't have 20/20 vision!" It was funny to me, and I remember seeing posts on social media like that all the way back in 2016. It filled me with anticipation, waiting with excitement to see what 2020 had in store for me. The beginning of my senior year, friends, family, the future! But by the gift of prophecy, it turned out that no one had 20/20 vision. There were highs, there were a lot of lows, and there was so much human nature shown. I learned to value those around me and consider the values people had by their actions. Someone who refused to wear a mask out of their own discomfort was willing to risk extreme illness to them, their family, and those around them, and that scared me sometimes. Working in both fast food and retail during the pandemic showed me a lot of different behaviors that I will never forget. People refusing to put on a mask, feigning ignorance once confronted, or purposefully ignoring restrictions just for their own convenience made me very upset, especially considering I lived with my high-risk grandmother. I will always remember the resistance to simple restrictions my fellow men had for their own well-being, ignoring the health of hundreds over a piece of cloth. It wasn't all bad. In fact, a majority of the people I saw did follow the rules. It's a very dangerous minority of people that choose to ignore guidelines set to protect others. But I will always try to remember the good as much as I remember the bad, even if the bad was putting me and my family members at extreme risk. My future has definitely been shaped by the pandemic. In my senior year, I've missed out on a lot of experiences that shape a high school experience: trips, homecoming, prom, assemblies, and the simple teenage thrill of hanging out with friends and causing trouble. I've lost a few friends to the distance, I've gained a few, and I've had to miss out on trips to my cousins, my grandparents, orchestra competitions in Florida, and even a cultural trip to England and France. But with as much as I lost, I still gained something that will stay with me for the rest of my life: perspective.

This is an image of me holding the snake I later bought, Monday! I've wanted to get a ball python for years, but my mom always told me no. In her words, she had no reason as to why I couldn't, and with my dad's encouragement, I went ahead and got her anyways. Buuuuuuut I still haven't told her she's in my room. Shh!

I never truly fit in at school. There was always something keeping me from fitting in with the rest of my peers, some invisible barrier that kept me from the rest of the world. For years, I had no idea what it was. I was left wondering, staring at the ceiling or the cracks in the concrete walls, looking for an answer. But it took a lot to find the answer. Silence. Jarring quiet as all the other kids held their tongue. It had always simultaneously confused and fascinated me when it was "quiet time" in elementary school. The teachers would simply raise their hands, making a dog-like shape with their fingers, and every child around them stilled. Quiet, like they'd be bitten by the dog if they spoke. Unfortunately, when I was younger, I wasn't really one to follow directions. I laughed when they held the hand-dog in my face and made it a point to continue my conversation with my peers around me. Of course, the administrators didn't take kindly to that. After a couple of times, they knew to watch me. After a couple more times, even my teachers began to watch me. Any little mistake I made from then on out lead to isolation: a desk away from all of the other kids, or one facing a wall, or being moved to an empty room with nothing but my thoughts, or walking laps around all of the joyful kids at recess. I didn't realize it until I was older, but this was the beginning of my social exclusion. In middle school, I had found a pack of friends to hang around with. There weren't many, and we were far from popular, but we had each other. I hadn't had more than two or three friends at a time before then, and ones I did have in elementary tended to be friends with me out of cruelty, mocking me or turning on me given the chance. So now that I had real, true friends, it was hard to talk to them. I often found myself lost in conversations, or even just by common greetings. To this day, I struggle to respond to "Hi, how are you?" without stumbling over my words like they're stuck to my tongue. My friends didn't notice my struggles, or if they did, they didn't say anything, but it stuck out to me. I felt like an alien, unable to really connect with anyone around me. It took me even longer to connect the dots. Halfway through my freshman year, eating alone at a lunch table and picking at the mush while I looked around at the jubilant tables around me in envy. Why was I never able to find that? A friend group that large, a deep connection with more than just four or five people that I didn't hardly have any classes with. These people around me could find friendship everywhere, most of them could strike up a conversation with anyone and find a friend for all of their classes. Why couldn't I be like them? Some reflection brought me all the way back to my elementary lunchroom, with the hand-dogs staring me down their muzzle. Somehow, just from being an obnoxious little kid, I shifted the course of my life and ended up an introverted, socially inept person. Sure, I have friends, but the estrangement I feel in day-to-day life keeps me from being like so many other people. And most of it can be traced back to some isolation in my early years. Being kept from interacting with kids my age from six to ten set back my social skills so many years. Of course I struggle with basic interactions, when I was a kid, I didn't hear any of them! Realizing all of this, although hard, seriously changed my perspective on my life. I wasn't an alien, I wasn't some weird, broken person- I was just a couple of years behind in my social skills. It made me feel a lot better about myself, less thinking I'm some kind of black sheep and more thinking of myself as the sheep that wandered from the herd for a little while. But now I'm back, and I have plenty of room to learn. Going forward in my life, I could learn how to interact with people more and break out of my shell just a little bit more. Forever changed, but change is nature. And I can live with nature.

"I honestly think it is better to be a failure at something you love than to be a success at something you hate" – George Burns. This quote gave me chills the first time I read it. Throughout my life, I've been told in many different ways that I shouldn't pursue art. People tell me that there's no money in art, so it's not worth the effort. They tell me my grades are too good to waste it on something like an art degree, I should try to be a doctor or a veterinarian! But nothing gets me excited quite like art does. Sure, I like animals, and sure, medicine is cool and all, but I would hate the work. I would hate every moment I worked if I worked in that field. Art is what gets me excited, art is what motivates me, and art is what I love. I'd rather be a failing artist with passion than a successful doctor without any soul.

I'd love to study art in college, specifically illustration, and more specifically, character design and concept art. I've loved to create stories in my head ever since I was a kid, and once I started to draw, putting the characters of these stories to paper instilled joy in me I've never gotten from anything else I've done. Finding out what concept art was felt like the last puzzle piece in a puzzle being pressed into place. Creating art for characters for other people's stories makes me extremely excited, and going to college to study illustration will help me enter this field with a head start.

I've always been a little strange at school, and my peers knew it. I didn't start actively presenting myself as a lesbian until my freshman year, but long before then I was seen as an outcast. I was never really excluded for any apparent reason. I wasn't emo, or goth (yet), I wasn't obsessed with horses or wolves to some extreme degree, I didn't talk to many people, I didn't do anything extreme to deserve my outcast status. Rather than telling two people in the third grade that I was a werewolf, I wasn't stereotypically strange. And yet, I was and still am a massive outcast. I've imagined my life if I had fit in many times. If I had learned to do makeup, dressed better, learned how to treat my hair well, hung out with the popular girls instead of being whispered about by them, how would my life be? Would I be happier, or less happy? Would I be farther ahead in life, or much further back? I've put admittedly too much thought into it, and I usually come to the same conclusion: I would be less happy in that world. Being a misfit has shaped my experience, but for the better. It definitely made my younger years much harder, full of much more pain, but the person I came out as on the other side is much, much more adjusted to life than if I had been "popular". I don't have many friends, but the friends I do have are genuine and I think of them as family. I love interacting with younger misfits I see and being a friend to them if no one else will be, giving them at least one light in the dark I could've used as a kid. The experiences I've had have made me find happiness with myself and my passions. I've been discouraged from pursuing art and going to college for art many times in my life. And if I had been a person who had never experienced this rejection before, never experienced any setbacks or exclusion, I might have given up. But being a misfit has inspired me more than any social acceptance ever could.

"You don't follow directions. You will never make anything like this," My elementary art teacher yelled in my face, gesturing to another student's artwork with force enough to make me flinch. "Learn how to follow my directions, or give up." I think about this teacher a lot, and the things she said to me still haunt me sometimes. But they also inspire me quite often. What would she think if she saw what I did today? She was right about one thing; I don't follow directions very well. But it's because I think outside of my directions that I create more unique and personal art that would mean a lot more to me than copying what my art teacher tells me to do stroke by stroke. Art is a form of expression for me, and I never feel as good with myself as I do when I finish a piece. I'm sorry, Mrs. Kramer, but I can't be put into a box. "There's no money in that, you know." My dad chided. "With your grades, you should be a doctor or a veterinarian. Something that makes money. You're throwing away your skills for something you won't make any money with." I think it's terrible that we base what we do with the rest of our lives based on how lucrative it is. I shouldn't be stuck doing something that doesn't bring me happiness and relaxation just because I won't be making as much money as someone in a different field. Our passions, the things that make our heart pound and our eyes widen with excitement should be the only thing we care about when we think about college and beyond. I'm sorry, dad, but I won't do something that doesn't excite me. "What is that?" She laughs. A friend, I thought. "That looks so weird. You should draw things a little differently, the way you draw is... gross. Try it like this-" She went on to show me some art that she liked, styles that made her happy. But that's not me. I've never been one to care about what other people think this far, but it gets hard after so many people in your life tell you to turn away from the same thing. I had people holding me back from what I loved, from what made me feel good, like a current of water pushing me back. But all I could do was swim through, push forward, and get where I want to go. And in a way, I've had a similar experience with my sexuality and gender. Everyone tells me what I should do, what I should look or think or act like, but it's not me. My expression of my self should be just that: Me. I'd love to live in a world where people can be what they want without a second thought, whether it's doing what they love or being who they want without the pressure of friends, families, mentors, or even strangers pulling them into depths of a person that's not who they really are. It's so hard to hold on, to make sure you don't get swept away in someone you're not, but once you're out of the river, you can be your best self. I love the arts a lot. Loving the arts has helped me love myself and see the beauty in things around me, and with assistance to my tuition, I want to try and build a bridge over this river.

I'm sure most of the pets you're getting are soft and fluffy: cats, dogs, or small little fuzzy rodents. But ever since the 8th grade, I've been doting on my bearded dragon, Monster. She means a lot to me, and although she's not as standard of a pet, my love for her is equal to my love for my cats. @zuccjni