Hello!
My name is Crystal, and this is my entry. I'm sorry for bombarding you with cheesy lines and wannabe poetry, but here it is:
Passion is a very ambiguous word, yet the main use of it is to tell the story of one's strong feeling towards something.
That something, to me, is art. I hold art very dear to me, as it is the gravitational force of my very being. Art manifests itself in many forms, whether it's performances or physical, which is why it's so beautiful. Yet the beauty of art is not the only thing that compels me to rest my head on its arms- that reason is because art is comfort.
I've heard stories of people, bragging that they've done art since they could hold a pencil. Me? I definitely wasn't one of those people. Throughout elementary school, I excelled in math and science. Art was merely a task that needed to be done on certain projects. But people change, as seasons do. I remember going over to a friend's house, asking her what we were going to do that day. She put on Sailor Moon for me to watch. My seven-year-old mind was blown- and I was enrapt in the sparkling rainbow lights of the animation. From that day, I decided that I wanted to be an artist.
Now, I am an artist. My art is a part of me. Try as hard as I can, I can't escape- nor am I willing to- from the fresh scent of a new sketchbook, or the vibrant paints on my hand stretched canvases. I can't escape the urge to create- to leave a part of me on the earth when my body has decayed. I find solace knowing that even when my physical being is nothing more than a forgotten memory, my art will remain as an everlasting piece of humanity. When my mind becomes nothing but a vast, aphotic breadth, art is there. Art acts as a gentle mother, arms open wide. Art allows me to find a safe place amongst the apocryphal war inside of my chest.
I recently applied for CSSSA, a distinguished art summer school. I wanted to attend their animation program to propel myself towards achieving my dream of becoming an animator. I tried to perfect my application pieces, working for months on end. Early May brought application letters, and disappointments. I was rejected. I was absolutely crushed. I felt that- even though I put out my best work and worked myself to exhaustion- I wasn't good enough. After that, picking up a pencil was one of the most difficult things for me to do, simply because I told myself that I was worthless because my art wasn't good enough.
But I did end up picking up that pencil. I did end up drawing those streaks of graphite. And now, I'm awaiting Sunday, where I'm to stand up on a grand stage and accept a trophy for my art.
Thank you for listening to my story.
I am applying for
1. Sunback
2. The Elements set
3. OMGSR Cinnabun