Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been inspired by cartoons, comics, and video games. Seeing all these worlds brought to life in full color was indescribable to little me; and helped me develop my style and originality in my designs. That is why I want to make a positive impact on the world with my art by becoming a concept artist for movies, video games, animated shows, anything I can get my hands on. To pass on the inspiration and become the person future artists will look up to. I want to reintroduce diversity of characters and stories in all aspects of media so that people and kids can see themselves in media. People who have been represented for years often do not see why representation is important, but the effect it has on the audience in normalizing different types of people in the world cannot be understated. I want to bring back supporting original ideas, because there is no shortage of good ideas, but there is less support in big industries like Disney or Pixar. Like exposure therapy to real humanity, I will fight with every breath with my art against artificial intelligence, because it’s not a revolution of AI, it should be a rebellion against it. Thank you for your consideration.

An interest that defines me in an essential way is my aptitude for art, because to me, it isn't just a hobby or a class to pass the time with. I feel an internal need to constantly create, to make my ideas a reality. Something I am scared of, with trying to go into art as a career, is that it will lose its value to me as a release of creativity and turn into just a menial task. I don't ever want to lose my passion in art, that is honestly terrifying, something so integral to me as a person could become something I hate doing. I don't consider myself talented, I feel that talent is just a bit of a push at the beginning of a journey. I have made art consistently my entire life, and improvement comes naturally with that. My journey in art has also taught me important lessons I can use, that consistent work outweighs natural talent by miles, and when I start something new I am not familiar with, and don't seem to have a talent for, I know that practice is the sure way.

I have had the amazing opportunity to have the same art teacher all four years of high school, Mrs. Marci Lee, and I don't think I could've grown so much in my high school art career without her guidance. She never let me get a big head about all my awards, and even if I presented her with a masterpiece, even by my own high standards, she would always find a way to improve it, take the concept further, and push my boundaries. She doesn't let me be satisfied with just being the best artist at my school, it sounds arrogant but it really is true. She keeps me humble, but gives me opportunities to grow. During my junior year, I was in her class for AP art and design portfolio, and with her help I submitted selected and guided works, and I received a five for my portfolio. This year I was asked to represent my school by live painting at the Irving Schools Foundation gala. During the live auction, among trips to Tuscany, dinner with the mayor, and other luxury lots, my painting sold for $7000! Then the buyer donated it back to the auction and it sold again for $7000! I felt extremely happy that I had made my teacher proud, and that I had helped put my school on the map. This past October, my AP Portfolio was chosen as one of the top fifty one out of 82,000 AP Art students from seven different countries world wide. Mine was the only Fine Art portfolio chosen from Texas and my school is public, in a poor district. Mrs Lee was so proud to have the honor for MacArthur High School. She always has time for me and pushes me when I need to be pushed. With her guidance, I have already been accepted to two top fine art programs in the nation and I am waiting to hear from a few more. I know she has set me on the right path to be successful in my art career. She encouraged me to add a business minor to my art degree so that I will understand how to market my artwork to hopefully be able to support myself doing something that I love so much. Marci Lee is an incredible woman, mentor, teacher, friend and human being who is making a huge difference in the lives of her students.

I have had the amazing opportunity to have the same art teacher all four years of high school, Mrs. Marci Lee, and I don't think I could've grown so much in my high school art career without her guidance. She never let me get a big head about all my awards, and even if I presented her with a masterpiece, even by my own high standards, she would always find a way to improve it, take the concept further, and push my boundaries. She doesn't let me be satisfied with just being the best artist at my school, it sounds arrogant but it really is true. She keeps me humble, but gives me opportunities to grow. During my junior year, I was in her class for AP art and design portfolio, and with her help I submitted selected and guided works, and I received a five for my portfolio. This year I was asked to represent my school by live painting at the Irving Schools Foundation gala. During the live auction, among trips to Tuscany, dinner with the mayor, and other luxury lots, my painting sold for $7000! Then the buyer donated it back to the auction and it sold again for $7000! I felt extremely happy that I had made my teacher proud, and that I had helped put my school on the map. This past October, my AP Portfolio was chosen as one of the top fifty one out of 82,000 AP Art students from seven different countries world wide. Mine was the only Fine Art portfolio chosen from Texas and my school is public, in a poor district. Mrs Lee was so proud to have the honor for MacArthur High School. She always has time for me and pushes me when I need to be pushed. With her guidance, I have already been accepted to two top fine art programs in the nation and I am waiting to hear from a few more. I know she has set me on the right path to be successful in my art career. She encouraged me to add a business minor to my art degree so that I will understand how to market my artwork to hopefully be able to support myself doing something that I love so much. Marci Lee is an incredible woman, mentor, teacher, friend and human being who is making a huge difference in the lives of her students.

A time when I faced adversity was when I was unwillingly sent to the psychiatric ward. My medicine doses had not been properly calculated by my doctors, and I had an emotional breakdown. I was admitted to the ward for suicidal thoughts, upon which I was taken off all medications, which caused withdrawal symptoms. I was only told my stay would be an evaluation, but doctors neglect to tell you what that actually means. Paper clothes, bad food, sounds of others suffering, and lights on all night. When I was allowed to put on real clothes, it really felt like being human again. The other kids there were in much worse condition than me. I felt so guilty, that I was somehow ‘faking’ feeling bad, while all these people were actually suffering. I spent my days drawing with crayons, as markers and pens are not allowed due to safety risks, and I had a lot of time to think. The place had a weird balance to it. It could not be comfortable and loving to its inhabitants, or they would not be scared to go back, however, it had to be just enough that it could keep the people in it alive and fed, and unharmed. I have seen the reality of our healthcare system, and it is not pretty. Even the institution I was sent to was said to be the best by experts in the medical field, if any of them went through what I did, something tells me their minds would be changed. When I finally went home, I was so grateful for things you would not usually question in your daily life, like silence, clean sheets, fresh food, and safety. It has taken me years to recover from my visit, but it has motivated me to never let myself get that bad again. I learned the hard way that asking for help is crucial. I have gone through years of learning how to be happy again, calm and safe, and to accept that there are those who love and care for me. One of the only medical diagnoses I actually received because of my visit was Autism Spectrum Disorder, because being sent to the ward moved me up on a years-long list. Many aspects of myself have been explained and connected to this diagnosis, and it made me feel I have learned more about myself, that there was a reason for my oddness, and that there are others like me. It inspired my research into Autism diagnoses in female populations, and how the public perceives those with ASD. My life has changed so much since then, I have more friends, and I'm so much better at communication. My meds are balanced and the difference in my attitude and demeanor is staggering. The person who went through the ward was truly someone else, compared to me now. That person was scared, hurting themselves and those around them, and I could not have kept living like that. But working through the small obstacle of asking for support is a thousand times easier than just storing it all inside till I inevitably explode. This experience taught me that I am stronger than even I realize, and that deep down my will to live survives through everyday life, whether it's a good or bad day, I am living regardless and am grateful.

A time when I faced adversity was when I was unwillingly sent to the psychiatric ward. My medicine doses had not been properly calculated by my doctors, and I had an emotional breakdown. I was admitted to the ward for suicidal thoughts, upon which I was taken off all medications, which caused withdrawal symptoms. I was only told my stay would be an evaluation, but doctors neglect to tell you what that actually means. Paper clothes, bad food, sounds of others suffering, and lights on all night. When I was allowed to put on real clothes, it really felt like being human again. The other kids there were in much worse condition than me. I felt so guilty, that I was somehow ‘faking’ feeling bad, while all these people were actually suffering. I spent my days drawing with crayons, as markers and pens are not allowed due to safety risks, and I had a lot of time to think. The place had a weird balance to it. It could not be comfortable and loving to its inhabitants, or they would not be scared to go back, however, it had to be just enough that it could keep the people in it alive and fed, and unharmed. I have seen the reality of our healthcare system, and it is not pretty. Even the institution I was sent to was said to be the best by experts in the medical field, if any of them went through what I did, something tells me their minds would be changed. When I finally went home, I was so grateful for things you would not usually question in your daily life, like silence, clean sheets, fresh food, and safety. It has taken me years to recover from my visit, but it has motivated me to never let myself get that bad again. I learned the hard way that asking for help is crucial. I have gone through years of learning how to be happy again, calm and safe, and to accept that there are those who love and care for me. One of the only medical diagnoses I actually received because of my visit was Autism Spectrum Disorder, because being sent to the ward moved me up on a years-long list. Many aspects of myself have been explained and connected to this diagnosis, and it made me feel I have learned more about myself, that there was a reason for my oddness, and that there are others like me. It inspired my research into Autism diagnoses in female populations, and how the public perceives those with ASD. My life has changed so much since then, I have more friends, and I'm so much better at communication. My meds are balanced and the difference in my attitude and demeanor is staggering. The person who went through the ward was truly someone else, compared to me now. That person was scared, hurting themselves and those around them, and I could not have kept living like that. But working through the small obstacle of asking for support is a thousand times easier than just storing it all inside till I inevitably explode. This experience taught me that I am stronger than even I realize, and that deep down my will to live survives through everyday life,

A time when I faced adversity was when I was unwillingly sent to the psychiatric ward. My medicine doses had not been properly calculated by my doctors, and I had an emotional breakdown. I was admitted to the ward for suicidal thoughts, upon which I was taken off all medications, which caused withdrawal symptoms. I was only told my stay would be an evaluation, but doctors neglect to tell you what that actually means. Paper clothes, bad food, sounds of others suffering, and lights on all night. When I was allowed to put on real clothes, it really felt like being human again. The other kids there were in much worse condition than me. I felt so guilty, that I was somehow ‘faking’ feeling bad, while all these people were actually suffering. I spent my days drawing with crayons, as markers and pens are not allowed due to safety risks, and I had a lot of time to think. The place had a weird balance to it. It could not be comfortable and loving to its inhabitants, or they would not be scared to go back, however, it had to be just enough that it could keep the people in it alive and fed, and unharmed. I have seen the reality of our healthcare system, and it is not pretty. Even the institution I was sent to was said to be the best by experts in the medical field, if any of them went through what I did, something tells me their minds would be changed. When I finally went home, I was so grateful for things you would not usually question in your daily life, like silence, clean sheets, fresh food, and safety. It has taken me years to recover from my visit, but it has motivated me to never let myself get that bad again. I learned the hard way that asking for help is crucial. I have gone through years of learning how to be happy again, calm and safe, and to accept that there are those who love and care for me. One of the only medical diagnoses I actually received because of my visit was Autism Spectrum Disorder, because being sent to the ward moved me up on a years-long list. Many aspects of myself have been explained and connected to this diagnosis, and it made me feel I have learned more about myself, that there was a reason for my oddness, and that there are others like me. It inspired my research into Autism diagnoses in female populations, and how the public perceives those with ASD. My life has changed so much since then, I have more friends, and I'm so much better at communication. My meds are balanced and the difference in my attitude and demeanor is staggering. The person who went through the ward was truly someone else, compared to me now. That person was scared, hurting themselves and those around them, and I could not have kept living like that. But working through the small obstacle of asking for support is a thousand times easier than just storing it all inside till I inevitably explode. This experience taught me that I am stronger than even I realize, and that deep down my will to live survives through everyday life, whether it's a good or bad day, I am living regardless and am grateful.

A time when I faced adversity was when I was unwillingly sent to the psychiatric ward. My medicine doses had not been properly calculated by my doctors, and I had an emotional breakdown. I was admitted to the ward for suicidal thoughts, upon which I was taken off all medications, which caused withdrawal symptoms. I was only told my stay would be an evaluation, but doctors neglect to tell you what that actually means. Paper clothes, bad food, sounds of others suffering, and lights on all night. When I was allowed to put on real clothes, it really felt like being human again. The other kids there were in much worse condition than me. I felt so guilty, that I was somehow ‘faking’ feeling bad, while all these people were actually suffering. I spent my days drawing with crayons, as markers and pens are not allowed due to safety risks, and I had a lot of time to think. The place had a weird balance to it. It could not be comfortable and loving to its inhabitants, or they would not be scared to go back, however, it had to be just enough that it could keep the people in it alive and fed, and unharmed. I have seen the reality of our healthcare system, and it is not pretty. Even the institution I was sent to was said to be the best by experts in the medical field, if any of them went through what I did, something tells me their minds would be changed. When I finally went home, I was so grateful for things you would not usually question in your daily life, like silence, clean sheets, fresh food, and safety. It has taken me years to recover from my visit, but it has motivated me to never let myself get that bad again. I learned the hard way that asking for help is crucial. I have gone through years of learning how to be happy again, calm and safe, and to accept that there are those who love and care for me. One of the only medical diagnoses I actually received because of my visit was Autism Spectrum Disorder, because being sent to the ward moved me up on a years-long list. Many aspects of myself have been explained and connected to this diagnosis, and it made me feel I have learned more about myself, that there was a reason for my oddness, and that there are others like me. It inspired my research into Autism diagnoses in female populations, and how the public perceives those with ASD. My life has changed so much since then, I have more friends, and I'm so much better at communication. My meds are balanced and the difference in my attitude and demeanor is staggering. The person who went through the ward was truly someone else, compared to me now. That person was scared, hurting themselves and those around them, and I could not have kept living like that. But working through the small obstacle of asking for support is a thousand times easier than just storing it all inside till I inevitably explode. This experience taught me that I am stronger than even I realize, and that deep down my will to live survives through everyday life, whether it's a good or bad day, I am living regardless and am grateful.

A time when I faced adversity was when I was unwillingly sent to the psychiatric ward. My medicine doses had not been properly calculated by my doctors, and I had an emotional breakdown. I was admitted to the ward for suicidal thoughts, upon which I was taken off all medications, which caused withdrawal symptoms. I was only told my stay would be an evaluation, but doctors neglect to tell you what that actually means. Paper clothes, bad food, sounds of others suffering, and lights on all night. When I was allowed to put on real clothes, it really felt like being human again. The other kids there were in much worse condition than me. I felt so guilty, that I was somehow ‘faking’ feeling bad, while all these people were actually suffering. I spent my days drawing with crayons, as markers and pens are not allowed due to safety risks, and I had a lot of time to think. The place had a weird balance to it. It could not be comfortable and loving to its inhabitants, or they would not be scared to go back, however, it had to be just enough that it could keep the people in it alive and fed, and unharmed. I have seen the reality of our healthcare system, and it is not pretty. Even the institution I was sent to was said to be the best by experts in the medical field, if any of them went through what I did, something tells me their minds would be changed. When I finally went home, I was so grateful for things you would not usually question in your daily life, like silence, clean sheets, fresh food, and safety. It has taken me years to recover from my visit, but it has motivated me to never let myself get that bad again. I learned the hard way that asking for help is crucial. I have gone through years of learning how to be happy again, calm and safe, and to accept that there are those who love and care for me. One of the only medical diagnoses I actually received because of my visit was Autism Spectrum Disorder, because being sent to the ward moved me up on a years-long list. Many aspects of myself have been explained and connected to this diagnosis, and it made me feel I have learned more about myself, that there was a reason for my oddness, and that there are others like me. It inspired my research into Autism diagnoses in female populations, and how the public perceives those with ASD. My life has changed so much since then, I have more friends, and I'm so much better at communication. My meds are balanced and the difference in my attitude and demeanor is staggering. The person who went through the ward was truly someone else, compared to me now. That person was scared, hurting themselves and those around them, and I could not have kept living like that. But working through the small obstacle of asking for support is a thousand times easier than just storing it all inside till I inevitably explode. This experience taught me that I am stronger than even I realize, and that deep down my will to live survives through everyday life, whether it's a good or bad day, I am living regardless and am grateful.