Arts education has shaped my life from the very beginning. When I was around three or four years old, my grandmother, who loved drawing herself, enrolled me in a children’s art class. I was so young, but something clicked. I remember how natural it felt to sit down with paper and colors and just create. My grandmother recognized that spark in me early on, and without her support, I might not have realized that art was something I could truly grow with. In elementary school, art class was always the part of the day I looked forward to most. I loved the hands-on projects, painting sessions, and the simple freedom of making things. Even back then, it gave me a space to express myself in a way nothing else could. Those early experiences made art feel exciting and limitless. I didn’t worry about being “good” or “bad”, I just enjoyed the process. I think that sense of play and exploration really built the foundation for how I still approach creating today. As I got older, access to formal art classes became more limited. For a long stretch, I had to rely on self-teaching. I turned to books, online tutorials, and lots of trial and error. While it was challenging at times, I learned a lot about my own work ethic and how much I cared about improving. Teaching myself allowed me to explore different styles and figure out what kind of art felt right to me. It wasn’t always easy, but I kept going because I couldn’t imagine giving it up. Eventually, I entered college and began majoring in art, and that changed everything again. Being surrounded by other artists, getting real-time feedback, and learning from professors who are passionate about what they do helped me level up in ways I couldn’t have on my own. Each semester, I see growth in both my technical skills and my creative confidence. I’m learning to take risks with my work, dig deeper into the “why” behind what I make, and trust my instincts more. Art is no longer just a hobby or an escape, it’s a path I’ve chosen to walk on purpose. When I think about who inspired me the most, I always come back to my grandmother. She didn’t have access to formal training herself, but she had a love for drawing and a belief in me that never wavered. She was the first person to encourage my creativity, and I carry that with me every time I sit down to make something. Her support, especially in those early years, planted a seed that has continued to grow. Art education, whether it was in school, self-taught, or now in college, has impacted me in every stage of life. It gave me an outlet, a sense of purpose, and a way to connect with others. It’s shaped how I see the world and how I see myself. I don’t know exactly where this journey will take me, but I know I’ll keep creating, learning, and growing, because art has always been a part of who I am.

For most of my life, I believed I had to choose between stability and passion. I was raised to value practicality, and for a while, I convinced myself that putting art aside was the responsible thing to do. I followed an academic path that felt safe on the surface, but the more I distanced myself from art, the more lost I felt. Eventually, I realized that choosing security at the cost of purpose was unsustainable. I didn’t just want to create—I needed to. So I made the decision to return to what mattered most to me. Pursuing a BFA in Drawing and Painting was a turning point. It wasn’t just about making art again—it was about finally choosing to live with purpose. I’ve always been a visual thinker, someone who pays attention to small gestures, quiet moments, and what’s left unsaid. Now, I’m using those instincts to build a body of work that reflects both personal experience and cultural memory. A large part of my artistic drive comes from a desire to celebrate and share culture, specifically, Chinese culture, which has always felt close to my heart. There are so many stories, symbols, and ways of seeing the world that get overlooked or flattened in the mainstream. Through my art, I want to give space to those perspectives. That might look like incorporating traditional Chinese ink techniques into modern narratives, or drawing inspiration from mythology, folklore, and lived experiences. Sometimes, it’s as simple as representing the quiet rituals of daily life or the feeling of being in-between cultures and learning how to hold both. One piece that holds special meaning to me is a traditional ink painting of my pet brown anole, Crepe. It was inspired by guo hua techniques but also influenced by biological illustration. Crepe became a subject not just of observation, but connection, reminding me that even the smallest life can have meaning, presence, and story. That piece was later accepted into my university’s undergraduate art journal, and it marked a turning point for me: a moment when I began to trust that my voice was worth sharing. My long-term goal is to create work that invites curiosity and encourages people to explore cultures beyond their own, not in a distant or academic way, but through human moments. Whether that’s through narrative art, illustration, or installations that draw from both tradition and contemporary life, I want to create pieces that help bridge understanding. I’m also committed to learning deeply—from technique and structure to historical context—because I believe that honoring your influences means truly studying them. That’s why I’m currently focusing on mastering anatomy, life drawing, and storytelling structure while also expanding my visual vocabulary. I want to carry the richness of Chinese visual traditions forward, but also give them room to grow, change, and speak to the present. Art has helped me reconnect with my own identity, and I hope to use it as a way to help others do the same—whether they share my background or are just beginning to learn about it. The impact I want to make isn’t flashy; it’s about creating moments of recognition, connection, or wonder that stay with someone quietly after they’ve walked away. You can view some of my work here: https://mersyna.com/

My greatest achievement so far has been rediscovering and fully committing to my passion for art. For a long time, I convinced myself that pursuing art wasn’t realistic. I took a more conventional academic path, focusing on courses that were considered safe and practical. But even as I tried to move forward, I felt disconnected. There was always a lingering sense that I had left something meaningful behind. Choosing to return to art was not a sudden or easy decision. It was a quiet, persistent calling I could no longer ignore. What made it an achievement wasn’t just the shift in my academic focus; it was the internal work it took to overcome fear, self-doubt, and the pressure to meet expectations that weren’t my own. I had to confront the voice in my head that said I wasn’t good enough or that it was too late. Since making that decision, I’ve learned that committing to your passion, especially when it feels uncertain, is an act of strength. As I immersed myself back into drawing and painting, I quickly realized how much work lay ahead. I wasn’t just trying to express myself—I was learning how to see again. Studying light, form, and anatomy gave me a new language through which I could understand both the external world and my inner one. A pivotal moment was when I completed a realism piece for a “drawing in the dark” assignment. It challenged my technical skills and made me slow down and trust the process. That experience built my confidence and showed me that growth isn’t always linear, but it is deeply rewarding when you persist. This journey also taught me that passion alone is not enough. You need discipline, structure, and humility to grow. I’ve pushed myself to work on pieces even when I’m frustrated or tired, to learn from critiques without taking them personally, and to be patient with my progress. At the same time, I’ve started to embrace what makes my perspective unique, especially in how I incorporate elements of fantasy, Chinese culture, and personal symbolism into my work. Looking forward, I want to become a technically skilled and expressive artist who can work across mediums. My immediate goal is to master figure drawing and anatomical studies, which I believe form the foundation of many art forms, from traditional fine art to animation and visual storytelling. Eventually, I want to take on more ambitious, large-scale projects that allow me to build immersive narratives. Whether I’m working on personal series, gallery exhibitions, or collaborative visual projects, I want my work to tell stories that feel honest, emotionally resonant, and culturally grounded. I’m also deeply interested in how art can be used to create social commentary and emotional connection. Through my recent stop-motion project, for example, I explored the issue of human trafficking and exploitation by using metaphorical objects like tomatoes and juice packaging to convey a difficult reality in a more accessible way. Projects like this make me excited about the power of visual storytelling to shift perspectives and create meaningful dialogue. Earning this scholarship would support my journey in a profound way. It would allow me to dedicate more time and resources to refining my skills, taking creative risks, and continuing my education with focus and purpose. More than that, it would be an affirmation of the path I’ve chosen. This is the path I once feared, but now feel proud to walk. I’m not chasing art because it’s easy. I’m choosing it because it’s the one thing that makes me feel most like myself, and I’m ready to see how far I can go.

Art has always been my way of making sense of the world. Since I was a child, I knew it was more than just a hobby—it was my purpose. I’ve always believed in the power of art to tell stories, evoke emotions, and connect people across different experiences. Through my work, I want to create pieces that resonate on a deeper level, blending fantasy, culture, and personal meaning. Art can make people feel seen, spark conversations, and bring awareness to important issues. I want my work to do just that—to inspire, to provoke thought, and to leave a lasting impression. Whether it’s through fine art, illustration, or storytelling, I hope to contribute to the creative world in a way that is both meaningful and impactful. Beyond my own practice, I also believe in uplifting others. I know what it’s like to struggle with self-doubt and uncertainty, and I want to support other artists in finding their voices. Whether through mentorship, collaboration, or simply sharing my journey, I want to help others believe in their creativity and pursue their passions. In the end, I want my art to matter—not just to me, but to those who see it. If I can create something that makes someone feel understood, inspired, or moved, then I know I’ve made a difference.