My illustration titled 'Boar' has stuck in my mind for a while. The piece depicts a mild fusion of a naked woman and a boar as she lays in anguish on the forest ground, trapped and bound in red rope. Her feet are a visual blend of high heels and boar hooves. The piece came about at a time when, as a developing woman, I found myself drawn to sensual expressions of femininity. As I began to embody it and explore what it meant to me, I was reminded by the world around me that there still exists a great deal of demonization towards aspects of femininity in general, but also towards aspects that aren't inherently sexual and yet insisted to be. The woman in the illustration being naked was a choice meant to provoke a question. If she were entirely a boar, would there be any comment on her nudity? Furthermore, is it simply the choice of the suggested trapper standing over her to view her as a hybrid of animal and human? Is she an animal if it makes it easier to rip her autonomy away, but human enough to place blame on and use what little freedom she has as justification for assault and harassment? This piece was a result of sorting through not only my experiences as a woman, but the past and present state of misogyny, how it extends to any and all modern expressions of femininity, and finding an outlet to speak about it.

The portraits I do of people will always hold a special place in my heart. I do them of people I love, and people I've only known for as long as they were scheduled to pose in front of me that morning. Finding their features and bone structure and replicating it feels like finding pieces of their story and understanding them as it all comes together with every mark I make on the page. It's an incredible thing to become conscious of the life your subject has lived, and it's even more mind blowing to realize that inanimate objects live full lives as well. It's helped me to appreciate things more, which can be hard when storms of struggle hit. I've found that when struggle does find me, I feel like I'm miles away from civilization. I can't see anything even if it's right in front of me, but even from a stool in the back of the room, drawing makes me feel closer to the world. To people. I could never stress enough how vital this is to me, but as a creative, it's entirely my purpose to find beautiful ways to share the feelings I can't find words to convey. I enjoy exploring all the possible ways you could go about creative expression. A teacher I had liked to make sure we knew that just because we were Illustration majors didn't mean we couldn't touch other art forms. In fact, it was vital that we explored as much as possible and took in everything we could learn about a printmakers process, a painter's workflow, a carpenter's planning. There was not a single person on this earth you couldn't look to and find a different way to look at the process of creation. Realizing this was one of the many special experiences I've had the pleasure of going through while developing as an artist. I realized how vast the world is and how small we are, but when you zoom in on this earth, here we are. We're in every nook and cranny, painting our lives across every block in ways we don't even realize. The color of our house. The flowers on our porch. The bike in our lawn. The wrinkles on our faces. It's incredible. This beauty is infinite, and finding ways to share it is an effort that will transcend my time in college. I am an independent illustrator for now, telling my own stories as I study and learn to do it better everyday. After college, I'd like to be able to continue my practice not only through my own personal work, but through editorial illustration as well as concept art and storyboarding for larger projects under bigger companies. Thank you for offering this scholarship and supporting the arts, and thank you for your consideration!

We are far too young to let go of the world we live in. We are far too tired to argue that 'better' is worth winning. So, we're just going to do it. We stumble through life getting knocked around like pinballs at the hands of a 'doomed' society. We walk through life with these thoughts ringing in our ears: Evil is far too powerful. It's too deeply rooted for the purest form of community and kindness to survive. We are drowning. We are dying. It's much easier to die, to let the endless complications form thick clouds over the childish desire to be happy. For things to be fair. All we would have to do is join our elders in their scorn and bitterness for the way things have been. Be born into a world that is already decided, and accept a life of floating in somebody else's cesspool. Subject ourselves to the easy routes that aren't ever easy, and unfriend our aspirations. How grave that would be. We are endlessly, simultaneously motivated and deterred by the horrors of our reality. We are terrified and baffled by the notion of staying the same in a world that is always changing. Amid this discrepancy, we see an opportunity for change. In a world that is constantly hanging in the balance, we see momentum, and a chance to swing things the other way. Humanity can be so beautiful when it's allowed to be. No one is going to fight for it if we don't. Realizing that is paramount.

When I was younger, my grandmother was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. She lived in Mexico and I only ever had the chance to visit her once, when I was far too young to know that people don't live forever. It's been years since she passed, and I never stop thinking about it. I didn't get to know her well, but I still miss her. Even if I wasn't as familiar with her as I wish I could've been, I eventually became somewhat acquainted with her through my mother's displays of grief, nostalgia and sadness. It was an incredibly hard time, for my mother to lose her mother. My juvenile brain found it difficult to understand at first. 'Mother' was a feeling deep in the core of my heart that felt infinite. I felt as though I'd always be safe. Mama will always be there. As I grew, and I began to conceptualize that such wasn't true, it caused a shift inside me. The warm, heavy, anchored feeling seemed to lift, and I felt vulnerable. The wind picked up, and the sails of my soul began to blow. Time seemed to speed up, and time in human life is finite. There's nothing I can do to change that. My grandmother's death brought forth one of the first beliefs I formed as a growing human being, and that was to make the most of the time you have with the people you love. I'll always be angry that I can't sit with her now and apologize for being a bratty 8 year old. I will always wish I could, from the bottom of my heart, tell her I loved her. Time, however, will never go back, and hopefully, I can make her smile by giving that love to her daughter, my mother. I've been deeply invested in art since even before I became a fussy eight-year-old. My mother's encouragement is likely the reason I stuck to it for so long, and she is why I consider my creative ambition to be the purest gift given to me in such a complicated world. She encourages me to this day, even though I'm no longer a toddler at the table, flipping through the carefully crafted pages of my very own storybooks. She has witnessed my blossom into a young adult, and seen my art through that entire period of my life. For this reason, art is the strongest force in my heart. It will forever be the purest way I can connect to my mother, even when she is gone. I'm working hard and looking forward to a long-lasting career in art so that I can be close to her forever, and make her proud. I'm now committed to a 4-year degree at an art college where I've never taken a day off, and despite being grown, I still show all of my pieces to my mother.

Hello! My name is Lena Aboudy. I'm a woman and a Jordanian/Mexican artist based in Plainfield, Illinois. I grew up in the Midwest, but I've chosen to pursue a 4-year degree at the American Academy of Art in downtown Chicago. I've been drawing my entire life, on paper and eventually on a drawing tablet. All of the art pieces I've made over the years are special to me because, with every piece I create, I see proof of my refusal to ever stop. This is what means the most to me in a time when struggle is so prevalent. It's hard to hold on to your aspirations when you're met with ridicule for pursuing a career that doesn't promise you anything, which has been largely my experience since I realized I wanted a career as an artist. Despite the discouragement, I enrolled at an art school. I want to share with you my most treasured experience since starting my classes. I want to tell you about a charcoal portrait I did of a model we called Meg. I first met her in my life drawing class at the American Academy of Art in Chicago. We were just beginning to learn what makes a portrait good, and how to capture features accurately. Before this class, I truthfully was quite nervous about my art education. Assignments like this seemed to jump straight from my nightmares. After sitting for a while, hesitant to fail before I've even begun, I pressed my charcoal stick to the soft paper. I braced myself for whatever was to happen, chanting my teacher's advice in my head. Don't let the drawing control you. YOU are the artist. An hour and a half had passed, and I almost didn't feel it. The model got up from her chair under the warm spotlight and left for the day. I was left with what seemed like the first miracle I'd ever experienced. It was not only a portrait, but one I couldn't be prouder of. My teacher, a hard-edged realist, was impressed, and I grinned all the way home with my first 'A' grade of the school year. That day served as a strong reminder as to why I wanted to pursue a creative career, and what I felt that day is a sensation I'll hold onto tightly while I brave the rest of my future. As David Bowie once said, "Always go a little further into the water than you feel you're capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth, and when you don't feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you're just about in the right place to do something exciting." I'm going to work tirelessly to break into the creative industry. I would like to find full-time employment as a visual development artist, but I feel it would be a disservice to my passion to stop there. I have the ambition to explore every creative avenue there is in search of that same spark of passion through freelance work as well. Thank you so much for reading, and for considering me for this scholarship. This will propel me forward, and allow me to put all my effort into chasing down my aspirations.

First-hand, I know how powerful artistic media is in people's lives all over the world. Making art has gotten me through the hardest times in my adolescence, and I know that I'm running towards an opportunity to be a part of the teams that give communities the same feeling. I plan to make a positive impact while pursuing my creative career by pushing for inclusivity and representation in popular media, opening up the industry to millions more people who have found it hard to enjoy the beauty of art and storytelling. Storytelling comes in many forms, such as comics, movies, music, illustrations and more, all of which I want to have the opportunity to explore and participate in making. I want to bring new perspectives to every aspect of creativity, and I am so excited for the entertainment industry to enter a beautifully inclusive era of heartfelt production that everyone, in some way, can find comfort in.

I'll be the first person in my family to pursue a creative career, during which I hope to explore every creative avenue and help communities fully experience the beauty and sense of purpose in life that art is so largely responsible for.

Hi! My name is Lena Aboudy. I'm a woman and a Jordanian/Mexican artist based in Plainfield, Illinois. I grew up in the Midwest surrounded by farms, large open fields and...crayons. I've scribbled and painted across pages upon pages well into my 18th year of living, and now I explore and prod at the creative possibilities that digital programs have to offer. I'm compelled to say that all of my pieces are special to me, because with every piece I create, and there are hundreds, something special is revealed: Renewed proof of my refusal to ever stop. This is what means the most to me in a time when struggle is so prevalent. It's hard to hold on to your aspirations when you're met with ridicule for pursuing a career that doesn't promise you anything, but it's this very type of hardship that has driven me to make the piece that I'm about to talk to you about. The piece I want to tell you about is a charcoal portrait of a model we called Meg. I first met her in my life drawing class at the American Academy of Art in Chicago. We were just beginning to learn what makes a portrait good, and how to capture features accurately. Before this class, I truthfully was quite nervous about my art education. Assignments like this seemed to jump straight from my nightmares. After sitting for a while, hesitant to fail before I've even begun, I pressed my charcoal stick to the soft paper. I braced myself for whatever was to happen, chanting my teacher's advice in my head. Don't let the drawing control you. YOU are the artist. An hour and a half had passed, and I almost didn't feel it. The model got up from her chair under the warm spotlight and left for the day. I was left with what seemed like the first miracle I'd ever experienced. It was not only a portrait, but one I couldn't be prouder of. My teacher, a hard-edged realist, was impressed, and I grinned all the way home with my first 'A' grade of the school year. Besides getting the opportunity to leave the suburbs and study in the city of Chicago, the story of that piece would be one of the most prominent special experiences in all my time practicing art. I know I'll never forget it, and I know I'd never hope to. That moment reminded me of why I want to pursue a creative career, and what I felt that day is a sensation I'll hold onto tightly as my Northstar while I brave the rest of my future. As David Bowie once said, "Always go a little further into the water than you feel you're capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth, and when you don't feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you're just about in the right place to do something exciting." After college, I'm going to work tirelessly to break into the creative industry. I would like to find full-time employment as a visual development artist, but I feel it would be a disservice to my passion to stop there. I have the ambition to explore every creative avenue there is in search of that same spark of brilliance, my Northstar, that I know is out there. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship, which will absolutely help in allowing me to do that.

Art is something that light the incredibly dark path for all kinds of people, one of them being me. As someone who struggled to communicate and make friends when I was very young, art was always an outlet, or even a friend. It was a space I could tap into where anything could exist, and all I had to do was develop myself enough to be able to show that creative space to everybody. In the 17 years I've spent on this earth, the large majority of it looked like crayons and paper, markers and brushes. Since elementary school, I've been striving to grow and learn enough to be able to bring the beautiful product of imagination to the world. When you grow up watching cartoons, and they really stick with you, you never stop wondering, "How did they do that? How did they make this?". I've always wanted to be on the inside, making things that set peoples minds ablaze with the beauty of imagination, to be behind the puppet show that sticks in people's minds forever as a fond memory. Whether you're facing personal life struggles or completely in the clear, art brings forth the energy from all walks of life and every crevice of life. You see the products of someone's amazing day, or the result of someone's tragic loss in the art world all the time. This energy is always flowing, and is always full of the capability to take us places that are so beautiful, eye opening, and completely our own. What I want to do is take these places and make it a reality, something that moves and dances before your eyes in ways you've only imagined. To achieve this goal, I've already spent almost every hour of my time teaching myself as much as I could, and I never plan to stop. Now, I just need the opportunity to put myself in as a student under people with experience in bringing these concepts and stories to life, taking me through the fundamentals and preparing me to become an effective visual story teller. Even with every world shattering doubt that has stopped me in the past, there is nothing that gives me more drive than this dream.