Earning this scholarship and using the funds toward my college career is deeply important to me as a student, artist, environmentalist and curious person. As someone deeply passionate about both fine arts and environmental science, something that makes me genuinely excited about learning is the prospect of merging the two in my education. Ever since I was young, I’ve found that art and environmental science flow fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience. There’s something so special about translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. I believe that my academic drive allows me to develop my creative projects, while my art catalyzes the creativity and problem-solving skills so desperately needed in the science field. I also find that one of the greatest sources of joy in my life is sharing my ideas and interests with others through artistic expression. As a child, I would rush home from school after art class, energetic with excitement over whatever paper maché project or finger painting I had done that day. When I was younger, I wanted validation from people I loved, but I also thrived off of their proud faces—however forced! As I’ve progressed and gained my personal style and expression to convey my own ideas, I’ve found such satisfaction and meaning in sharing it with others, for similar reasons. I’ve had personal struggles with expanding my audience—anxious about the vulnerability of exposing my work to judgment. I think my experience in gaining confidence has shown the invaluable connections art can forge. I recently was a part of a Youth Exhibit at a local Center for the Arts where I had the opportunity to display pieces alongside professional artists. During that week, I was able to talk with several artists and event managers who were engaged with my art and had such meaningful statements. I believe art to be such a vessel for human interaction and chance, and this discourse surrounding their appreciation and insights reaffirmed not only my belief in the transformative power of art but also in the impact art can have as my own personal source of joy. My interest in art, nature and its power of change makes me truly excited about my future, and this scholarship will help me achieve this life long passion.

Earning this scholarship and using the funds toward my college career is deeply important to me as a student, artist, environmentalist and curious person. As someone deeply passionate about both fine arts and environmental science, something that makes me genuinely excited about learning is the prospect of merging the two in my education. Ever since I was young, I’ve found that art and environmental science flow fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience. There’s something so special about translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. I believe that my academic drive allows me to develop my creative projects, while my art catalyzes the creativity and problem-solving skills so desperately needed in the science field. I have been so fortunate as to have been included in several local galleries and exhibitions, including a local Lakewood Festival for the Arts, and during this display, I was able to talk with several professional artists and event managers who were engaged with my art and had such meaningful things to say. I think this is so important because part of the joy as an artist is sharing, learning from and being impacted positively by other artists and their feedback. This discourse surrounding their appreciation and insights reaffirmed the positive benefits I believe come with sharing work and it is in this way that I directly believe my art can bring around positive change, even in bringing happiness to just one viewer. I hope my future endeavors in combining my passions for environmental science and art can continue to inspire others and push them to consider how to preserve our natural environment.

Family holds a deep significance to me, and as part of a culturally mixed German and Iranian family, I’ve found myself drawn to the relationships we form—whether it be with pets, people, or objects that hold memories. The intersection of family, memories, and identity is so nuanced and I believe that the minute details and overlooked fragments can hold the key to understanding personal identity and how we fit into our larger communities. In my work, I explored these themes, centered around how generational traditions can be impactful in one’s youth. I find that art allows me to revisit such moments—some painful, some joyful— and translate them into universal works that have the power to impact others. I have been so fortunate as to have been included in several local galleries and exhibitions, including a local Lakewood Festival for the Arts. During this display, I was able to talk with several professional artists and event managers who were engaged with my art and had such meaningful things to say. I think this is so important because part of the joy as an artist is sharing, learning from and being impacted positively by other artists and their feedback. This discourse surrounding their appreciation and insights reaffirmed the positive benefits I believe come with sharing work and it is in this way that I directly believe my art can bring around positive change, even in bringing happiness to just one viewer. Earning this scholarship and using the funds toward my college career is also deeply important to me as an environmentalist and curious person. As someone deeply passionate about both fine arts and environmental science, something that makes me genuinely excited about learning is the prospect of merging the two in my education. Ever since I was young, I’ve found that art and environmental science flow fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience. There’s something so special about translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. I believe that my academic drive allows me to develop my creative projects, while my art catalyzes the creativity and problem-solving skills so desperately needed in the science field. This interest makes me truly excited about my future, and this scholarship will help me achieve this life long passion. Whether painting portraits while exploring my families history or reveling in our natural environment and feeling inspired to plein air paint, I know that art has a profound effect on my life and my future. I hope to continue my education, studying fine art in college, while continuing to be aware of how connection with my creativity makes me a more complete person.

A brush of crimson, a glint of bronze. A blue splatter, a patch of unnaturally vibrant green. When most people look at a painting, they see only outwardly. They see the obvious subject and obvious colors but don’t take the time to peel back the surface layers to the canvas underneath. For the longest time, that was how I felt the eyes of others on me, and so that was how I saw myself. At 13, I came to the startling realization that I was an introvert. This troubling dilemma was multifaceted but pronounced socially, instilling anxiety I’d never felt before in my youth. As a kid, friends I’d known for years surrounded me, and I could comfortably balance my social life and solitude, but growing up and changing schools proved a significant challenge. I felt awkward in every interaction—surrounded by people with such a natural air of sociability—and the first seeds of self-doubt were sown. It was in this discomfort that I grew up particularly observant. Observing everybody around me was, in a way, a source of comfort. I think this is why it seemed so natural when I started painting. My attention to detail had a purpose, and I found that hours spent in front of a canvas offered me a sense of calm I didn’t find in social spaces. However, as anyone who has struggled with self-doubt knows, intense discomfort can be transformative. In the winter of my freshman year, I decided to submit art to a local competition. Despite my pride in my talent, putting myself out there was frightening. When I found out I’d won, I realized that the very traits that I’d struggled with were what had allowed me to create artistically and, in turn, change the way I viewed myself. Though I still feel occasional spasms of dread in crowded rooms, this moment had taught me that my characteristics—so often a source of shame—were alternately a strength. The limiting fear I had felt didn’t restrict me, and my art was the perfect avenue for opening up and sharing my ideas. The following summer, I entered a professional gallery where I had the amazing opportunity to learn from professional artists and sell my work alongside them—something unimaginable to me had I still been so sheltered in the negative perception of myself. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I think that was a turning point in my perception of the negative traits that I’d allowed my introversion to perpetuate. This seemingly inconsequential event became a metaphor for appreciating the way I was born and the unlikely but inherent talents I’d long overlooked. It allowed me to recognize the quiet strengths that have always been a part of me—my attention to detail, and my ability to reflect—and how they have fueled my creativity. My work now is unapologetically myself, and I am uninhibited in medium, style and subject. I am passionate about diving deeper into myself, painting self portraits and emphasizing family and nature within my work. Through these pieces, I continue to explore my connection with my feelings and express myself through bold color and dancing light. They also represent my passion for family, the people that held me up and supported me. No one thing wholly defines a person, just as one paintbrush stroke may not reveal the whole image. Every painting is made with innumerable brushstrokes no matter the outward appearance, and I will forever credit my passion for art as the catalyst for this realization of self-love and newfound confidence.

A brush of crimson, a glint of bronze. A blue splatter, a patch of unnaturally vibrant green. When most people look at a painting, they see only outwardly. They see the obvious subject and obvious colors but don’t take the time to peel back the surface layers to the canvas underneath. For the longest time, that was how I felt the eyes of others on me, and so that was how I saw myself. At 13, I came to the startling realization that I was an introvert. This troubling dilemma was multifaceted but pronounced socially, instilling anxiety I’d never felt before in my youth. As a kid, friends I’d known for years surrounded me, and I could comfortably balance my social life and solitude, but growing up and changing schools proved a significant challenge. I felt awkward in every interaction—surrounded by people with such a natural air of sociability—and the first seeds of self-doubt were sown. It was in this discomfort that I grew up particularly observant. Some introverts become heightened in their own world; I, rather, found myself stepping back outside of myself. Observing everybody around me was, in a way, a source of comfort. I think this is why it seemed so natural when I started painting. My attention to detail had a purpose, and I found that hours spent in front of a canvas offered me a sense of calm I didn’t find in social spaces. However, as anyone who has struggled with self-doubt knows, intense discomfort can be transformative. In the winter of my freshman year, I decided to submit art to a competition. Despite my pride in my talent, putting myself out there was frightening. My heart thudding frantically in my chest, and my face tight and scribbled a fierce shade of red, I waited for the rotating circle on my laptop to disappear. When the screen lit up with the congratulatory letter, my smile wouldn’t leave my face. The very traits that I’d struggled with were what had allowed me to create artistically and, in turn, change the way I viewed myself. It was an addictive sort of calm—one that I’d never felt surrounded by people. Though I still feel occasional spasms of dread in crowded rooms, this moment taught me that my characteristics—so often a source of shame—were alternately a strength. The limiting fear I had felt didn’t restrict me, and my art was the perfect avenue for opening up and sharing my ideas. The following summer, I entered a professional gallery where I had the amazing opportunity to learn from professional artists and sell my work alongside them—something unimaginable to me had I still been so sheltered in the negative perception of myself. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I think that was a turning point in my perception of the negative traits that I’d allowed my introversion to perpetuate. Pursuing a college degree in art is incredibly important to me, and is a testament to my willpower. Art has allowed me to recognize the quiet strengths that have always been a part of me—my attention to detail, and my ability to reflect—and how they have fueled my creativity. No one thing wholly defines a person, just as one paintbrush stroke may not reveal the whole image. My continued education will continue to help me grow and learn more about my anxiety and how I can manage it. Every painting is made with innumerable brushstrokes no matter the outward appearance, and I will forever credit my passion for art as the catalyst for this realization of self-love and newfound confidence.

Painting with oils has greatly impacted my life as a student, artist and environmentalist. As someone deeply passionate about both fine arts and environmental science, something that has genuinely enhanced my life is the prospect of merging the two in my education and continuing to experiment with oils. Ever since I was young, I’ve found that art and environmental science flow fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience and utilizing the smooth, buttery nature of oil paints. It allows me to take my time, translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. The level of vibrancy I can achieve makes my work come alive in an unparalleled way, necessary in capturing the warmth and life in nature and portraiture. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. I believe that my academic drive allows me to develop my creative projects, while my art catalyzes the creativity and problem-solving skills so desperately needed in the science field. It is through oils that I have been able to enhance my own passion and hopefully am able to impact those in the future. I recently was a part of a Youth Exhibit at a local Center for the Arts where I had the opportunity to display pieces alongside professional artists. During that week, I was able to talk with several artists and event managers who were engaged with my art and had such meaningful statements. I believe art to be such a vessel for human interaction and change, and this discourse surrounding their appreciation and insights reaffirmed my belief in the impact my journey with oil painting can have on others. Truly, I have become much more connected with myself and our natural world since starting to paint, and I credit my love for oils with this newfound yet long lasting passion.

Earning this scholarship and using the funds toward my college career is deeply important to me as a student, artist, environmentalist and curious person. When most people look at art, they see only the obvious subject and colors but don’t take the time to peel back the surface layers to the canvas underneath—a metaphor personal to me. At 13, I came to the startling realization that I was an introvert. This dilemma was multifaceted but pronounced socially, instilling an unease I’d never felt before. It was in this discomfort that I grew up particularly observant. I think this is why it seemed so natural when I started painting. My attention to detail had a purpose, and I found that hours spent painting offered me a sense of calm I didn’t find in social spaces. However, as anyone who has struggled with self-doubt knows, intense discomfort can be transformative. One day, I decided to submit art to an art competition. When I found out I had won, I realized that the very traits that I’d struggled with were what had allowed me to create artistically and, in turn, change the way I viewed myself. Though I still feel anxious occasionally, this moment taught me that my characteristics—so often a source of shame—were alternately a strength. The following summer, I entered a gallery where I had the amazing opportunity to learn from professional artists and sell my work alongside them, something unimaginable to me had I still been sheltered in the negative perception of myself. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but that was a turning point in my perception of the traits that I’d allowed my introversion to perpetuate. It allowed me to recognize the quiet strengths that have always been a part of me—my attention to detail, and ability to reflect—and how they have fueled my creativity. No one thing wholly defines a person, just as one paintbrush stroke may not reveal the whole image. Every painting is made with innumerable brushstrokes no matter the outward appearance, and I will forever credit my passion for art as the catalyst for this realization of self-love and newfound confidence. With this confidence, and as someone deeply passionate about both fine arts and environmental science, something that makes me genuinely excited about learning is the prospect of merging the two in my education. Ever since I was young, I’ve found that art and environmental science flow fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience. There’s something so special about translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. I believe that my academic drive allows me to develop my creative projects, while my art catalyzes the creativity and problem-solving skills so desperately needed in the science field. This interest makes me truly excited about my future, and this scholarship will help me achieve this life long passion.

Earning this scholarship and using the funds toward my college career is deeply important to me as a student, artist, environmentalist and curious person. As someone deeply passionate about both fine arts and the natural world, something that makes me genuinely excited about learning is the prospect of merging the two in my education. Ever since I was young, I’ve found that art and nature flow so fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience. There’s something so special about translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. I believe that my academic drive allows me to develop my creative projects, while my art catalyzes the creativity and problem-solving skills so desperately needed in the science field. This interest makes me truly excited about my future, and this scholarship will help me achieve this life long passion.

A brush of crimson, a glint of bronze, a blue splatter. When most people look at art, they see only the obvious subject and colors but don’t take the time to peel back the surface layers to the canvas underneath—a metaphor personal to me. At 13, I came to the startling realization that I was an introvert. This dilemma was multifaceted but pronounced socially, instilling an unease I’d never felt before. As a kid, I could comfortably balance my social life and solitude, but growing up and changing schools proved a significant challenge. I felt eternally awkward—surrounded by people with such a natural air of sociability—and the first seeds of self-doubt were sown. It was in this discomfort that I grew up particularly observant. Some introverts become heightened in their own world; I, rather, found myself stepping back outside of myself. I think this is why it seemed so natural when I started painting. My attention to detail had a purpose, and I found that hours spent painting offered me a sense of calm I didn’t find in social spaces. However, as anyone who has struggled with self-doubt knows, intense discomfort can be transformative. In the winter of my freshman year, I decided to submit art to this very Scholastic Awards. When the screen lit up with the congratulatory letter, my smile wouldn’t budge. The very traits that I’d struggled with were what had allowed me to create artistically and, in turn, change the way I viewed myself. Though I still feel anxious occasionally, this moment taught me that my characteristics—so often a source of shame—were alternately a strength. The limiting fear I felt didn’t restrict me, and my art was the perfect avenue for opening up. The following summer, I entered a gallery where I had the amazing opportunity to learn from professional artists and sell my work alongside them, something unimaginable to me had I still been sheltered in the negative perception of myself. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but that was a turning point in my perception of the traits that I’d allowed my introversion to perpetuate. I recently read an article in which the audience was asked to stare at a painting for 10 minutes. It was meant as a practice in patience, but I think it really is a lesson in appreciation and reflection—valuing things you may brush over in the heat of impatience. Personally, this practice became a metaphor for appreciating the way I was born and the inherent talents I’d long overlooked. It allowed me to recognize the quiet strengths that have always been a part of me—my attention to detail, and ability to reflect—and how they have fueled my creativity. No one thing wholly defines a person, just as one paintbrush stroke may not reveal the whole image. Every painting is made with innumerable brushstrokes no matter the outward appearance, and I will forever credit my passion for art as the catalyst for this realization of self-love and newfound confidence. From that moment, my passion about studying art flared. Growing up in the city of Portland, I loved the feel of being immersed in an artsy scene, with fairs and exhibitions all around. After winning a few national art competitions and visiting New York City and Washington D.C. for the first times, my love for that type of environment grew, and my passion with it. I think it truly showed me the power of such an immersive art scene as a way to share and be influenced by all the different ideas within each medium and style. As a perfectionist, I didn’t like to experiment with my art but after seeing the way experimentation can lead to transformative pieces, I opened up a lot more and began trying to mediums and styles as well. That has fundamentally altered my style and led me to discover a love of mixed media with paint, colored pencil and gouache. Additionally, as somebody also passionate about environmental science, I’d love to be an artist so I can find new ways to make a positive impact on our earth. I’ve found that even in my daily life, art and environmental science flow fluidly together. When I take hikes and immerse myself in nature, I see art in everything from glittering snow peaks to how the rich orange light slants through fall leaves. It’s something I have acutely noticed—that even in moments of innocuity, my artistic brain doesn’t shut off. Now, as I’ve developed as an artist, I find so much tranquility in capturing what I love to experience. There’s something so special about translating images between the two lenses, each with its own unique interpretation. I am deeply passionate about ecological conservation, and being an avid environmentalist as well as an artist has given me the gift of being able to capture moments that speak to me. One of my future dreams is exploring the world, studying ecosystems and environments while documenting it artistically. This love of both disciplines has strengthened my desire to study art, and artists like Andy Goldsworthy, Albert Bierstadt and David Buckland have inspired that connection. I am deeply excited about continuing my art education in college and finding new ways of learning and influencing others. Art as a form of therapy and relaxation and meditation has been vital in my personal growth and has taught me about the power of reflection and release.

A brush of crimson, a glint of bronze, a blue splatter. When most people look at art, they see only the obvious subject and colors but don’t take the time to peel back the surface layers to the canvas underneath—a metaphor personal to me. At 13, I came to the startling realization that I was an introvert. This dilemma was multifaceted but pronounced socially, instilling an unease I’d never felt before. As a kid, I could comfortably balance my social life and solitude, but growing up and changing schools proved a significant challenge. I felt eternally awkward—surrounded by people with such a natural air of sociability—and the first seeds of self-doubt were sown. It was in this discomfort that I grew up particularly observant. Some introverts become heightened in their own world; I, rather, found myself stepping back outside of myself. I think this is why it seemed so natural when I started painting. My attention to detail had a purpose, and I found that hours spent painting offered me a sense of calm I didn’t find in social spaces. However, as anyone who has struggled with self-doubt knows, intense discomfort can be transformative. In the winter of my freshman year, I decided to submit art to the Scholastic Awards. When the screen lit up with the congratulatory letter, my smile wouldn’t budge. The very traits that I’d struggled with were what had allowed me to create artistically and, in turn, change the way I viewed myself. Though I still feel anxious occasionally, this moment taught me that my characteristics—so often a source of shame—were alternately a strength. The limiting fear I felt didn’t restrict me, and my art was the perfect avenue for opening up. The following summer, I entered a gallery where I had the amazing opportunity to learn from professional artists and sell my work alongside them, something unimaginable to me had I still been sheltered in the negative perception of myself. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but that was a turning point in my perception of the traits that I’d allowed my introversion to perpetuate. I recently read an article in which the audience was asked to stare at a painting for 10 minutes. It was meant as a practice in patience, but I think it really is a lesson in appreciation and reflection—valuing things you may brush over in the heat of impatience. Personally, this practice became a metaphor for appreciating the way I was born and the inherent talents I’d long overlooked. It allowed me to recognize the quiet strengths that have always been a part of me—my attention to detail, and ability to reflect—and how they have fueled my creativity. No one thing wholly defines a person, just as one paintbrush stroke may not reveal the whole image. Every painting is made with innumerable brushstrokes no matter the outward appearance, and I will forever credit my passion for art as the catalyst for this realization of self-love and newfound confidence. I think art has such a transformative power of personal growth as well as reaching others and its necessary for a society to reflect and recognize a variety of ideas. Just as art made a large impact in my life, I think it is essential in others as well. Art allows us to step into the past, not just as passive watchers but as active participants in the tide of history. It brings the past to life, offering us a deeper understanding of the complexities that have shaped our world, and ultimately a deeper understanding of ourselves in the process.