My family moves houses very frequently, and we often don't have enough room in our house to unpack every item we own. As a result, a surplus of boxes usually ends up occupying a storage closet outside. Among those boxes are countless paintings and several sketchbooks filled with sloppy sketches stowed away in raggedy boxes. Within those sketchbooks are many worn pages filled with the expressions of an imaginative little girl. As a child, I indulged in creating art that actualized the images in my mind's eye, even if it was primarily fantastical creatures. Of course, as I got older, the way I perceived the world changed, thus shifting my artistic focus from mermaids and fairies to works that reflected the mind of a girl no longer driven by those same colorful fantasies. Though my philosophy has changed, I still remember my humble beginnings of finger painting on loose-leaf paper and scribbling with crayons. I remember the age at which I was free of doubt and was filled with bountiful creativity. Those days were fleeting, though, and as an adolescent girl growing up in an environment that frowned upon the pursuit of artistic endeavors, I felt the effort was not one worth seeing through. I'd be lying if I said that thoughts of inadequacy never prompted second thoughts about my love for art or even my ability as an artist. Over time, I diminished myself, and I hesitated to call myself an artist at all, passing it off as just a simple "hobby." I began to see it more as something trivial rather than a gift. The belief that I would be another "starving artist" was the only thing that came to mind when considering going to art school or furthering my artistry. It seemed like it would all be for nothing, so I cut any plan for a career as an artist short. As I have gotten older, I have explored the art world more and more; I've gone to museums, exposed myself to other artists, and even taken some art classes. From those experiences, I gathered that art comes in varying forms, some resonating more with others and less with the rest, but it is still art. One's art is no less valuable than someone else's, regardless of monetary value or how much fanfare is associated. Art is an expression of what it is to exist, and I decided that for me, art is the only way I could exist. By this, I mean letting others have an effect on my life decisions simply because they adhere to the idea that artistry is a fool's game was futile. Similar to art itself, my choices will not always satisfy everyone. I am passionate about my ability to create, and I no longer want to be hindered by others trying to convince me that the pursuit of art is a pathway to failure. I believe that my passion stems from the idea that my life is meant to be filled with freedom. I want to be free to express myself, my thoughts, and my endeavors and to do so unapologetically. My art has always been a reflection of who I am, how far I have come, and the lengths I have yet to achieve. This scholarship would not only help me further my plans to attend a university for studying art, but also to go after a life where I can simply create. There is so much about the art world that I have yet to learn, and my journey as an artist is only just beginning.