Openmindedness, dependability, and loyalty have been and always will be my main core values. I truly believe my purpose on earth is to make peoples lives better and easier, and those two values are what it keeps coming down to. I strive to be the best person and friend that I can be. To fully understand and empathize with people, an individual must be open-minded. To put myself into someone else's shoes means trying to understand their perspective and beliefs. It is an important factor in personal growth and changing outdated thoughts. Staying open-minded is how we move forward as a society. It keeps me away from conflict and opens me up to new ways of thinking. Being open-minded allows me to hear and try to understand others' opinions, which leads me to my own conclusion. Not only does it help me be more individualistic, but it respects the individualism of the people around me. It keeps me from being negative and blowing off others' thoughts and feelings. It is important for me to be the best friend I can be, so keeping my mind open and listening to what my friends have to say is very important. Being a good friend also means being there for them when they need it. Being dependable towards others displays to them that we care, and respect their time and their needs. It builds trust and a strong bond with the individual. Being a friend means being there for the good times, but more importantly the bad times. I believe being a true friend means that you are there for them when they are at their worst as well as when they are at their best. I've always been afraid of being left alone or abandoned, that is why I promised myself I will never leave someone behind. I hope that people, in my personal relationships as well as in my career, can rely on me to do what is right and what is honest. I want to be there for people in the happiest moments in their life, as well as the most unfavorable of times. I want to be there to warn my friends of the storms that are beginning to brew as their lives start to turn grey. I want to be there when the new day flowers and the vibrant hues can shine through and light up their lives.

Dead Poets Society (1989) directed by Peter Weir, is one of the best, most influential movies I have ever seen. I first watched this movie when I was fifteen and still trying to figure out some idea of who I was and who I wanted to be. Dead Poets Society is a coming of age story about creating individuality in a world where conformity is a huge problem. The characters in the film are trying to express themselves while living in a strict boarding school. I relate to this as an emerging bisexual artist in a strict catholic household. My all-time favorite quotes came from this movie and was said by the great Robin Williams. "And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for"(Dead Poets Society). There are many more "practical" career paths I could go into. There will always be something that pays more or has better health care and whatever, but I don't care. Art is what feeds the soul. This beautiful quote helps keep my head in the right place. It helps me remember what life is really about; the beauty of the world. It helps me to remember what is important to me and keeps me from clouding my head with the "responsibilities" of the society we live in. This breathtaking film gave me a new outlook on my life and what I view as important. Weir, Peter. Dead Poets Society. Buena Vista Pictures Distribution, 1989.

"And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for" (Robin Williams). Weir, Peter. Dead Poets Society. Buena Vista Pictures Distribution, 1989. There are many more "practical" career paths I could go into. There will always be something that pays more or has better health care and whatever, but I don't care. Art is what feeds the soul. This beautiful quote helps keep my head in the right place. It helps me remember what life is really about; the beauty of the world. It helps me to remember what is important to me and keeps me from clouding my head with the "responsibilities" of the society we live in. Whether it’s the grace of the human form or the moving spirit of one’s soul, the casual beauty never disappoints me. My goal is to help others see the world the way I see it and help people appreciate the world around us. My admiration of the arts and the people I care about made me realize my purpose in life is to find a way to help others. I was fortunate enough to have the resources and motivation to get through rough stages in my life. However, I understand that there are many kids that are not as lucky. I want to bring those resources to underprivileged kids that don’t see their lives getting better. I want to show them that there is a way out and that they will be ok. In my future career in the arts, I hope to show people that art is a vital form of expression. Art is a therapeutic way that I am able to express my emotions. I want to show others that art is a perfect course of action to display feelings that may be hard to say. We have to understand what we stay alive for.

People. People are the reason I do what I do. Whether it’s the grace of the human form or the moving spirit of one’s soul, the casual beauty never disappoints me. I love the challenge of trying to capture someone’s external and internal beauty in my paintings. I use my art to try to show people the beauty they hold. It is hard for many individuals to appreciate or even notice their own mesmerizing reflection. I utilize my art to show people their worth. I will use this scholarship to improve my skills in capturing living forms in my paintings and open up a world of possibilities. I hope to find the perfect career for me in college and find a way to help people using my art. This scholarship will help me pay for college where I can meet more people, explore new career pathways, and open the doors to new programs where I can help in the best way I can. As a Bi woman growing up in a catholic family, I have had difficult phases in my life. About a year ago, I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed. While going through some tough stages in my life, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine and decided it was my purpose in life to help others. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. My admiration of the arts and the people I care about made me realize my purpose in life is to find a way to help others. I was fortunate enough to have the resources and motivation to get through rough stages in my life. However, I understand that there are many kids that are not as lucky. I want to bring those resources to underprivileged kids that don’t see their lives getting better. I want to show them that there is a way out and that they will be ok. In my future career in the arts, I hope to show people that art is a vital form of expression. Art is a therapeutic way that I am able to express my emotions. I want to show others that art is a perfect course of action to display feelings that may be hard to say.

“Cheers!” we say quietly as we tapped our styrofoam cups full of hospital ice against each other on the cramped twin bed. The worst part was always waiting. Waiting for the social worker, waiting for my mom to get here, waiting to go home. It isn’t long before my best friend, Nick, and I collapsed in hysterical laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The cold LED lights of the emergency room invaded my daydreams of the sunset or the fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. With all the laughter it was easy to forget that we were there for me, that I was going through what I’d remember forever as one of the hardest times of my life in the early spring of 2020. I don’t remember all too much about the previous weeks. I remember the stress of life, the stress of school, the stress of where I was going to sleep that night, and the stress of forcing myself through my daily routine. They rose up like too many building blocks, threatening to topple over the higher they got. My social worker might as well have been a robot, ticking the boxes on a checklist that would measure whether I was happy enough to leave. Despite my condition, I was able to tell that she put forth the bare minimum in terms of effort. She gave me a full fake smile and told me to just go home and sleep it off. At that moment I lost my faith in the childish ideology that everyone cares about each other. I recognized that besides a few steady anchors in the room, so many people were ready to watch me float away. I had always assumed that most people wanted the best for everyone. I realized at that instant that the only person who could help me get better was me. I had to stop waiting around for something to change or get better. If I had a problem, I needed to address it. If I had a question, I had to ask it. As I sat in that hospital bed, gazing up at the blinding fluorescent lights, something changed inside of me. I realized that I had to fight through the rough stages in my life because I was the only one capable of doing so. I was able to overcome that tough chapter of my life, and in doing so I have become more empathetic. I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed, which led me to become more critically aware of those around me. While going through this experience, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. At that point, it became my goal to study psychology and provide help to those who need it most, regardless of their financial ability to seek traditional rehabilitation routes. About a year ago, I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed. This led me to become more critically aware of those around me. While going through some tough stages in my life, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. At that point, it became my goal to study psychology and provide help to those who need it most, regardless of their financial ability to seek traditional rehabilitation routes.

People. People are the reason I do what I do. Whether it’s the grace of the human form or the moving spirit of one’s soul, the casual beauty never disappoints me. I love the challenge of trying to capture someone’s external and internal beauty in my paintings. I use my art to try to show people the beauty they hold. It is hard for many individuals to appreciate or even notice their own mesmerizing reflection. I utilize my art to show people their worth. I will use this scholarship to improve my skills in capturing living forms in my paintings and open up a world of possibilities. I hope to find the perfect career for me in college and find a way to help people using my art. This scholarship will help me pay for college where I can meet more people, explore new career pathways, and open the doors to new programs where I can help in the best way I can. My admiration of the arts and the people I care about made me realize my purpose in life is to find a way to help others. I was fortunate enough to have the resources and motivation to get through rough stages in my life. However, I understand that there are many kids that are not as lucky. I want to bring those resources to underprivileged kids that don’t see their lives getting better. I want to show them that there is a way out and that they will be ok. My goal is to not only show kids their external beauty but their internal beauty as well.

People. People are the reason I do what I do. Whether it’s the grace of the human form or the moving spirit of one’s soul, the casual beauty never disappoints me. I love the challenge of trying to capture someone’s external and internal beauty in my paintings. I use my art to try to show people the beauty they hold. It is hard for many individuals to appreciate or even notice their own mesmerizing reflection. I utilize my art to show people their worth. My current project focuses on the different forms of the female body. It highlights features that women may be insecure about and turns them into something beautiful, to be proud of. I experimented with thermal colors and using cool colors to display shading. I decided to not include the head in order to highlight the central focus; the body. My admiration of the arts and the people I care about made me realize my purpose in life is to find a way to help others. I was fortunate enough to have the resources and motivation to get through rough stages in my life. However, I understand that there are many kids that are not as lucky. I want to bring those resources to underprivileged kids that don’t see their lives getting better. I want to show them that there is a way out and that they will be ok. I have provided a link below to showcase some of my work. https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Zf3nJ00bDXus2kAaaDM-_Mhs08WjHTkgvd5NykjHfXQ/edit#slide=id.p

People. People are the reason I do what I do. Whether it’s the grace of the human form or the moving spirit of one’s soul, the casual beauty never disappoints me. I love the challenge of trying to capture someone’s external and internal beauty in my paintings. I use my art to try to show people the beauty they hold. It is hard for many individuals to appreciate or even notice their own mesmerizing reflection. I utilize my art to show people their worth. Body positivity is a growing movement and art is a way that I am able to contribute. I want to show future generations that everyone is beautiful, no matter the shape, size, or color. Art drives me to notice the smaller details in the world around me, the hidden beauty behind each living thing. Art helps me to feel more in touch with the world around me and helps me to peer deeper into my soul. Through art, I am able to express and identify the emotions within. I feel like I am better able to understand the world, and I want to help others do the same. My admiration of the arts and the people I care about made me realize my purpose in life is to find a way to help others. I was fortunate enough to have the resources and motivation to get through rough stages in my life. However, I understand that there are many kids that are not as lucky. I want to bring those resources to underprivileged kids that don’t see their lives getting better. I want to show them that there is a way out and that they will be ok. Art is a perfect outlet for creative kids to show what they are feeling when it is too hard to say. More than anything, the touch experiences in my life reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. I understand that art with our hands is becoming less common with new computerized apps. I want to bring the therapeutic action of actually creating something with just your hands and your favorite medium back to life.

“Cheers!” we say quietly as we tapped our styrofoam cups full of hospital ice against each other on the cramped twin bed. The worst part was always waiting. Waiting for the social worker, waiting for my mom to get here, waiting to go home. It isn’t long before my best friend, Nick, and I collapsed in hysterical laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The cold LED lights of the emergency room invaded my daydreams of the sunset or the fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. With all the laughter it was easy to forget that we were there for me, that I was going through what I’d remember forever as one of the hardest times of my life in the early spring of 2020. I don’t remember all too much about the previous weeks. I remember the stress of life, the stress of school, the stress of where I was going to sleep that night, and the stress of forcing myself through my daily routine. They rose up like too many building blocks, threatening to topple over the higher they got. My social worker might as well have been a robot, ticking the boxes on a checklist that would measure whether I was happy enough to leave. Despite my condition, I was able to tell that she put forth the bare minimum in terms of effort. She gave me a full fake smile and told me to just go home and sleep it off. At that moment I lost my faith in the childish ideology that everyone cares about each other. I recognized that besides a few steady anchors in the room, so many people were ready to watch me float away. I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed, which led me to become more critically aware of those around me. I suffer from chronic anxiety and depersonalization disorder (DPD). While going through this experience, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. About a year ago, I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed. While going through some tough stages in my life, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine and decided it was my purpose in life to help others. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. I want to be someone that kids suffering from the same mental illness can go to. Someone to tell them that they are not alone.

“Cheers!” we say quietly as we tapped our styrofoam cups full of hospital ice against each other on the cramped twin bed. The worst part was always waiting. Waiting for the social worker, waiting for my mom to get here, waiting to go home. It isn’t long before my best friend, Nick, and I collapsed in hysterical laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The cold LED lights of the emergency room invaded my daydreams of the sunset or the fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. With all the laughter it was easy to forget that we were there for me, that I was going through what I’d remember forever as one of the hardest times of my life in the early spring of 2020. I don’t remember all too much about the previous weeks. I remember the stress of life, the stress of school, the stress of where I was going to sleep that night, and the stress of forcing myself through my daily routine. They rose up like too many building blocks, threatening to topple over the higher they got. My social worker might as well have been a robot, ticking the boxes on a checklist that would measure whether I was happy enough to leave. Despite my condition, I was able to tell that she put forth the bare minimum in terms of effort. She gave me a full fake smile and told me to just go home and sleep it off. At that moment I lost my faith in the childish ideology that everyone cares about each other. I recognized that besides a few steady anchors in the room, so many people were ready to watch me float away. I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed, which led me to become more critically aware of those around me. I suffer from chronic anxiety and depersonalization disorder (DPD). While going through this experience, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. About a year ago, I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed. While going through some tough stages in my life, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine and decided it was my purpose in life to help others. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. I want to be someone that kids suffering from the same mental illness can go to. Someone to tell them that they are not alone.

Common App “Cheers!” we say quietly as we tapped our styrofoam cups full of hospital ice against each other on the cramped twin bed. The worst part was always waiting. Waiting for the social worker, waiting for my mom to get here, waiting to go home. It isn’t long before my best friend, Nick, and I collapsed in hysterical laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The cold LED lights of the emergency room invaded my daydreams of the sunset or the fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. With all the laughter it was easy to forget that we were there for me, that I was going through what I’d remember forever as one of the hardest times of my life in the early spring of 2020. I don’t remember all too much about the previous weeks. I remember the stress of life, the stress of school, the stress of where I was going to sleep that night, and the stress of forcing myself through my daily routine. They rose up like too many building blocks, threatening to topple over the higher they got. My social worker might as well have been a robot, ticking the boxes on a checklist that would measure whether I was happy enough to leave. Despite my condition, I was able to tell that she put forth the bare minimum in terms of effort. She gave me a full fake smile and told me to just go home and sleep it off. At that moment I lost my faith in the childish ideology that everyone cares about each other. I recognized that besides a few steady anchors in the room, so many people were ready to watch me float away. I had always assumed that most people wanted the best for everyone. I realized at that instant that the only person who could help me get better was me. I had to stop waiting around for something to change or get better. If I had a problem, I needed to address it. If I had a question, I had to ask it. As I sat in that hospital bed, gazing up at the blinding fluorescent lights, something changed inside of me. I realized that I had to fight through the rough stages in my life because I was the only one capable of doing so. I was able to overcome that tough chapter of my life, and in doing so I have become more empathetic. I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed, which led me to become more critically aware of those around me. While going through this experience, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. About a year ago, I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed. This led me to become more critically aware of those around me. While going through some tough stages in my life, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I discovered that my passion in life was to help people; it was my purpose. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. At that point, it became my goal to study psychology and provide help to those who need it most, regardless of their financial ability to seek traditional rehabilitation routes.

“Cheers!” we say quietly as we tapped our styrofoam cups full of hospital ice against each other on the cramped twin bed. The worst part was always waiting. Waiting for the social worker, waiting for my mom to get here, waiting to go home. It isn’t long before my best friend, Nick, and I collapsed in hysterical laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The cold LED lights of the emergency room invaded my daydreams of the sunset or the fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. With all the laughter it was easy to forget that we were there for me, that I was going through what I’d remember forever as one of the hardest times of my life in the early spring of 2020. I don’t remember all too much about the previous weeks. I remember the stress of life, the stress of school, the stress of where I was going to sleep that night, and the stress of forcing myself through my daily routine. My social worker might as well have been a robot, ticking the boxes on a checklist that would measure whether I was happy enough to leave. Despite my condition, I was able to tell that she put forth the bare minimum in terms of effort. She gave me a full fake smile and told me to just go home and sleep it off. At that moment I lost my faith in the childish ideology that everyone cares about each other. I recognized that besides a few steady anchors in the room, so many people were ready to watch me float away. I realized at that instant that the only person who could help me get better was me. I had to stop waiting around for something to change or get better. If I had a problem, I needed to address it. If I had a question, I had to ask it. As I sat in that hospital bed, gazing up at the blinding fluorescent lights, something changed inside of me. I realized that I had to fight through the rough stages in my life because I was the only one capable of doing so. I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed, which led me to become more critically aware of those around me. I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. At that point, it became my goal to study psychology and provide help to those who need it most, regardless of their financial ability to seek traditional rehabilitation routes. About a year ago, I realized that I was struggling for a long time and nobody noticed. This led me to become more critically aware of those around me. While going through some tough stages in my life, I developed a need to help others going through situations similar to mine. I was able to use my newfound independence by taking my learning into my own hands. I started asking questions in class when I didn’t understand, rather than waiting for someone else to ask. I began going in for extra help after school, and I even found myself a tutor. More than anything, this experience reflected directly in my artwork. I found myself exploring new mediums and styles, focusing on my individualism and determination to push through failure after failure. After half a notebook’s worth of paper balls, I found myself developing as an artist, which allowed me to express myself in new and imaginative ways. As I recovered, I was fortunate enough to have many resources available to help me back onto my feet. One such resource was cognitive therapy, and during a conversation with my therapist, we began talking about the thousands of kids for whom this help was not available. At that point, it became my goal to study psychology and provide help to those who need it most, regardless of their financial ability to seek traditional rehabilitation routes.

All I have ever wanted was to swim in the clouds. I can put in my earbuds and just let the music overwhelm my ears and inflate my chest with emotions until I sail away. If I close my eyes hard enough maybe one day I can fly through the bright patches and dance on the fluffy canvas. In the clouds, there is no stress, no work, no reality. It is the place I can not exist and the place I have been dreaming of since I was a little girl gazing up at them in my favorite little field by my house. The clouds are the only thing that I can continuously count on in my life. The casual beauty never disappoints me. On the cloudiest of days, the sky creates a blank canvas. The entire sky is filled with a blanket of grey. I feel as if I can take my paintbrush and splatter bits of color from one end to the other. When the sky is saturated with fluffy pillows, hugging the sky, I feel as if I can lay hidden in the comfort of the clouds' soft embrace. When the clouds become cumulus, they form gentle little beds that break apart the sky. Sometimes I dream of being able to skip from cloud to cloud until they decide to change once more. They are the art that nobody can control. I strive to be just like the marshmallows in the sky. Eternally there for people in the happiest moments in their life, as well as the most unfavorable of times. I want to be there to warn my friends of the storms that are beginning to brew as their lives start to turn grey. I want to be there when the new day flowers and the vibrant hues can shine through and light up their lives. My admiration of the arts and the people I care about made me realize my purpose in life is to find a way to help others. I was fortunate enough to have the resources and motivation to get through rough stages in my life. However, I understand that there are many kids that are not as lucky. I want to bring those resources to underprivileged kids that don’t see their lives getting better. I want to show them that there is a way out and that they will be ok.

People. People are the reason I do what I do. Whether it’s the grace of the human form or the moving spirit of one’s soul, the casual beauty never disappoints me. I love the challenge of trying to capture someone’s external and internal beauty in my paintings. I use my art to try to show people the beauty they hold. It is hard for many individuals to appreciate or even notice their own mesmerizing reflection. I utilize my art to show people their worth. I will use this scholarship to improve my skills in capturing living forms in my paintings and open up a world of possibilities. I hope to find the perfect career for me in college and find a way to help people using my art. This scholarship will help me pay for college where I can meet more people, explore new career pathways, and open the doors to new programs where I can help in the best way I can.

The Art that Nobody Controls All I have ever wanted was to swim in the clouds. I can put in my earbuds and just let the music overwhelm my ears and inflate my chest with emotions until I sail away. If I close my eyes hard enough maybe one day I can fly through the bright patches and dance on the fluffy canvas. In the clouds, there is no stress, no work, no reality. It is the place I can not exist and the place I have been dreaming of since I was a little girl gazing up at them in my favorite little field by my house. The clouds are the only thing that I can continuously count on. The casual beauty never disappoints me. On the cloudiest of days, the sky creates a blank canvas. The entire sky is filled with a blanket of grey. I feel as if I can take my paintbrush and splatter bits of color from one end to the other. When the sky is saturated with fluffy pillows, hugging the sky, I feel as if I can lay hidden in the comfort of the clouds' soft embrace. When the clouds become cumulus, they form gentle little beds that break apart the sky. Sometimes I dream of being able to skip from cloud to cloud until they decide to change once more. They are the art that nobody can control. I strive to be just like the marshmallows in the sky. Eternally there for people in the happiest moments in their life, as well as the most unfavorable of times. When people look at my art, I want them to feel the way I feel in the clouds. I want them to feel like they can get away from the world and have a sense of calmness. If they can find a sense of peace in my art, I will have found my purpose.