As a child I grew up on old Disney films. From there, I was introduced to many independent animated projects that appeared on YouTube. There is something so innate about storytelling through pictures, music, and sound all in one go. Quite literally, you're watching an idea move on its own. It's its own magic. The art form that I've set my life on pursuing is animation. Ever since I was young, being an artist was the only thing I said I would be when my guidance counselors would introduce career choices to me and my peers in the middle of classes. Even when all I could produce were choppy, stiff movements of my characters, it inspires me to build immersive stories if it meant that I could watch my characters feel like one moment is everything. In a way, storytelling through animation studies cause and effect, emotion, and expression that can convey itself to others. When I think about animation's impact on my life, I think about how many times I've teared up watching just drawings move and talk on screen. I think about the first time I made a mock-up short film with silly sound effects as I give the characters unique voices, and imagining it into a full prologue of a show. More times than I can count, I think about how my experiences can be turned into a metaphorical, fantastical narrative that's blended into something like a cartoon. Something other people can watch, understand, or feel connected to. Something that can inspire action, relief, or new perspectives. My personal connection to animation is not only for myself, but for others around me as well. On a technical standpoint, animation forced me to become more aware of how things move and behave in different natures. It forced me to see things in slow motion, or "frame-by-frame." I think about the throwing of a baseball and the momentum transferred from the leg through the arms. I think about how hair wildly flays like waves in the wind. I think about how our eyes lead, then the head, then our body. At first, I thought doing such redundant amounts of anatomy and movement sketches were too demanding for a proper portfolio for animation. But, I now realize that to create your own moment of a life, you have to know how how it moves. So, I've already set my heart on animation, it seems. Not only has it given me a new way to see the world, but it's given me a drive. I want to do this, I want to write a compelling, immersive tale that can be told through an imaginary world that leaks into the real world. My one hope out of my efforts is to inspire a new generation of artists through my stories.

As an artist I've always put intention into every detail, hoping the story of the artwork would be read by my peers and people online because art is meant to connect people, invoke curiosity, inspire a drive, teach something new. With music, I hope to compose music that tells a story through sound. Whenever I play video games, I always find myself tearing up in sad or serious scenes. Sure, the moment calls for tears, but the music is what makes it feel so real. When I reminisce on the magic of old Disney films, back when they were still animated frame by frame, I remember the grasp it had on society and myself. Children and adults alike learned valuable life lessons from classic tales, it connected families and friends together, and it created a culture of wonder. I intend to collaborate with other artists that share the same passion that I do in adding a little more wonder to the world. With my contributions, I hope to reignite that culture of wonder. I will create artwork, films, and photographs of stories that you see yourself in, hoping that you walk away from your TV, a small screen, or a theater wondering more about the world and yourself. You'll learn something about life, or even see everything with strange, new lenses. I aim to uplift curiosity and critical thinking by writing rich narratives with hidden details and clues. It will urge you to search and theorize, no matter how out-of-this-world your ideas may be. Though, my goals for my music is quite different. I see myself focusing on composing soundtrack music, such as orchestral instrumental pieces that accompany a film or a scene. My hope for my music is to uplift the stories that I or others tell and create a new layer of understanding and connection to the viewer or listener. To wrap it all together, my art will act as a window to wonder for people, whether it be wonder to the world or themselves. It will share experiences, feelings, and unique lives told through pictures. My music will become the bridge that carries the story and outlines the environment.

Mental health is something I've had to carry the burden of dealing with for the majority of my life. Already, at a young age, navigating the world while I was scared of people and scared of talking proved to be difficult. Due to my poor social skills that took years to develop, the only friends I really had as a child were imaginary. I was in my own world because I just couldn't connect with people my age. That is how my relationship with my peers were like. Imagine recess in the afternoon, with children screaming and laughing in the distance chasing each other, playing some made-up game. I sat on the rough, rubber-like floor under a playground set with a little sketchbook in my hand and a pencil in the other drawing my life away. As I got older, nothing was easier. In addition to my social anxiousness, I began to worry about how others perceived me. Am I anything enough for people to see me as something? It was years of pushing myself to do better, to keep my title I made up in my head of being the "art kid" or the "smart one." Despite how far I've come, something looming in the back of my head told me that it wasn't enough. Then the thoughts came in again. "What if you weren't good enough and you end up without a good job or recognition?" and "what if nobody knows your name?" and, ultimately, "what if you don't even know where to start, and end up never being anything?" Here is something I'd like to share about myself. Ever since I was alive I wanted to draw. Every time my school counselors would do career activities with students every year, I always was sure that I would one day be an artist. For every "write a letter to your future self" activity, I asked my future self "did I get better?" Having these doubtful and self-degrading thoughts swirling in my head dimmed the colorful vision in my childhood's dream of making it somewhere as a successful artist. Every piece and painting reminded me that "I could be better." And nothing I made tells me that I have a chance. Everything made me worry, my pace in growth, people's hypothetical opinions about me, even the future. Truly, it was as if I was commanding my own ship (my expectations) but I was also the sailor, merely mediocre at sailing the unknown sea (my perceived reality). At some point in my life, I've thought about giving up because it was exhausting to keep pushing. You know, maybe growing up IS too hard. Maybe the responsibilities are too unpredictable and nerve-wracking. And, to put it lightly, I did give up. For years, I wondered what it would be like if everything just stopped, if I didn't have to worry about a future anymore. I couldn't get myself to be passionate about anything I was ever passionate about, and I forbade myself to even think about where I'd be in the future. Everybody seems like they had a clear path for their life for sure, but I could not imagine one for me. After the lowest crash I've experienced in my whole entire life, it slapped the ever-loving sense into me. Giving up hurt in more ways than one. Giving up meant pushing others away to wallow in your own self-pity. I realize that it strained my closeness with my best friends. It meant that in the journey of life which everybody goes through, I was at a complete stop (which was ironic because what ruined my mental health in the first place was my drive to catch up to everyone around me). For the longest time I reached out for help and support, and I didn't always get it. I figured that if I wasn't able to get help, I have to help myself. Giving up was not a viable choice. And from that day on, I metaphorically slapped myself in the face and told myself to "just make it," because that was enough. I've come to realize that nobody on the speck of blue in our universe is supposed to be anything grand or great. I learned that giving up meant losing everything you never knew you had until you've almost lost it. And most importantly, that I don't have to wait to be dragged out from my pit if nobody is reaching out their hand. Though I've improved significantly throughout the years, I'm not necessarily "cured." Everyday I still face my own battles, but another waking day on the planet is another chance to drag myself up. But now, I think I do see a future for myself. As a person, growing and changing everyday. And as an artist, turning my personal experiences into meaningful characters with their own unique stories. And as a reminder to myself, I won't back down.

My future is set to be in the animation industry. Whether it be for TV shows, movies, or video games, I want to bring still ideas to life in front of your very eyes. As our society becomes more digitized, for example, frequently watching on a screen, playing video games, and being online in general, I want to bring meaningful art and storytelling to the world's new age of art. In order to make my mark in the industry, I've been taking as many opportunities as I can to ensure a future of great connections of industry professionals. Starting in high school, my art has been displayed in exhibitions, and I took on the role of an illustrator for a children's book called "I Love My Family" written by Kayla Deickman. During the summer of 2025, I participated in an online collaborative video game development event called "Brackey's Game Jam". In this event, I was the lead animator and illustrator in a team with two programmers and a music producer (this game is available to play on itch.io (website) called "Cave Echoes"). And with all of these opportunities I leapt at along with my artwork, I was able to have a portfolio that got me accepted into the School of Visual Arts in New York. The only question now that I ask myself is "What will I do from now to the future?" During my time that I attend SVA, will learn new skills and techniques from industry professionals that will improve my own abilities in art and animation. I'll continue to draw, spending endless hours with figure, gesture, and anatomy studies, creating story-driven environments with deep, complex characters, and capture emotion through color. Not only will I learn how to do art, but I'll learn how to advertise my skills and my portfolio to other artists, companies, and corporations. This will be done through seeking out sources from my professors, career services within my school, and attending portfolio review trips that SVA offers to students. Only then will I have a professional and plentiful portfolio that may land me a position in an internship to gain experience. This will hopefully lead me to a job position in the animation field, whether it be for TV shows, movies, or video games. Though I have a clear vision of my future, I'm not ignoring any potential setbacks. Upcoming artists today find that they struggle with having a large online presence, which is a hindrance when you're looking for employment. Many artists, studios, and companies search for potential employers through social medias and portfolio websites. So to resolve this problem, and though my progress is still slow, I've begun to showcase my art on social media. Online, I share progress artwork and developmental pieces for my video game and animated projects in hopes to build interest among my audience. To make my online presence stronger, I intend to start a commissioning business in the future, advertising paid artwork for what people want drawn. Evaluating the progress to my future in the animation industry, I learn that it comes with many steps and setbacks. But, I am strongly determined to continue improving my skills and opening up my life to new opportunities within my reach that are ready to be grasped. With this in mind, I'm confident that I will find my place in the future I've set my sights on.

We are forgetting what art means to humanity. As I and many others around my age are consumed in a predominantly online life, with our heads buried in our phones, our fingers typing away in comments section discussing the recent hit films and media, I think to myself: "what is anybody talking about anymore?" I believe that people are losing something so integral to human nature that is about as ancient as our existence; Our connection with art. Not many people anymore seem to want to dig deep in their favorite shows, analyzing characters and understanding the story and intentions of the cinematography. I want to change that. I want art to mean something to people again. As an artist, I've always put intention into every detail, hoping the story of the artwork would be read by my peers and people online because art is meant to connect people, invoke curiosity, inspire a drive, teach something new. Working hard to enter the field of animation, I realize how artless some TV shows and films are because they're trying to adhere to popular trends or to crazily stimulate the minds of developing children. When I reminisce on the magic of old Disney films, back when they were still animated frame by frame, I remember the grasp it had on society, and myself. Children and adults alike learned valuable life lessons from classic tales, it connected families and friends together, and it created a culture of wonder. With my contribution to society, I hope to reignite that culture of wonder. I will create artwork, films, and photographs of stories that you see yourself in, hoping that you walk away from your TV, a small screen, or a theater wondering more about the world and yourself. You'll learn something about life, or even see everything with strange, new lenses. I will uplift curiosity and critical thinking by writing rich narratives with hidden details and clues. It will urge you to search and theorize, no matter how out-of-this-world your ideas may be. And I intend to collaborate with a whole population of other artists that share the same passion that I do in changing the world. Having experience in illustrating a children's book, a book called "I Love My Family" by Kayla Deickman, I took a stronger notice of how children approach art. Children rarely interact with art anymore, since many of them are growing up with iPads and are conditioned to consume, to put it bluntly, meaningless, overstimulating content. They're never given a chance to learn to imagine, figure out, and tell weird and wacky stories. Natural creativity is what's missing. Although art may seem like such a minute part of society's progression, it is one of the most important source of growth and culture. Take NASA's crew on the Artemis II mission, for example. The astronauts were given lessons in photography by alumni at the Rochester Institute of Technology. Not only were they just taught to take pictures and collect data for the sake of science, but they were also taught "the ability to incorporate framing, to be able to incorporate a human element and perspective into photographing celestial bodies" (Christye Sisson, director of photographic arts and sciences program at RIT). The crew was taught to observe our universe through the eyes of an artist. Art is critical for the next generation of critical thinkers and creative problem solvers. I want to be a part of an artistic revolution that inspires our people to wonder, love our world and miracle of an existence. How will I do it? By just creating.

My high school art teacher is the reason why I have a vision for my future. During the open house before my first day of high school, I met with my new art teacher, Mrs. Filicko. Learning that I had an interest in the arts, she encouraged me to join art club. Knowing me, I myself am naturally shy and introverted, so I was doubtful that I'd bother to join. My dad on the other hand mistook my vagueness in interest as, well, interest. Now, I practically had to attend art club. This little misunderstanding has lead to the best kind of domino effect. As I've been in her classes and art club for my entire high school years, from freshman to senior year, she has opened my eyes to the possibilities of what pursuing art looks like for myself. Growing up, I've always wanted to pursue art, but my biggest obstacle was that I wasn't sure how. To be transparent, I've been afraid of the future my whole life because it's so nebulous. It is entirely mixed with confusion, apprehension, worry, and anxiety. Having a teacher that throws every opportunity she finds in my face gave me the steps I needed to march forward to a future I've always dreamed for myself. Mrs. Filicko often meets with students one on one to discuss their future and college plans, whether that be in class, during art club, or after school. For my meetings, she's recommended me a variety of fantastic colleges that have great art programs, given me opportunity to showcase my artwork to people, helped me compete in art competitions, and helped me build the college portfolio that lead me to my acceptance into the School of Visual Arts for 2D animation, an art school in New York. Because of her and her connections to many great people, I even got the chance to become an illustrator for a children's book author, Kayla Deickman, in her book "I Love My Family". And in the Scholastic Art and Writing competition, I was able to win the Gold Key award for all 3 of my artworks. When I was in middle school, it was difficult for me to see a future for myself, especially in art. But now, I not only have just ambitions and dreams, but I have the resources and skills to make them come true. And for all of that, I give the most credit to my high school art teacher of 4 years, Mrs. Filicko.