The Best College Essay Ever

Apart from surface manifestations altogether, this realm was simultaneously one of austere simplicity and aesthetic intricacy, of departure from realism and immersion in reality, of intense emotion and uninhibited expression.It was the realm of lines that could tell stories, of colors and figures that meant nothing and everything.Indeed, not only does this essay document Bobby’s development from child to young adult, but Bobby’s art also matures from something orderly and superficial to something abstract and deeply meaningful.

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I suppose this is strange, as the rest of my life can best be characterized by everything the studio is not: cleanliness and order and structure.

But then again, the studio was like nothing else in my life, beyond anything in which I've ever felt comfortable or at ease. My carefully composed sketchbooks—the proportions just right, the contrast perfected, the whiteness of the background meticulously preserved—were often marred by the frenzied strokes of my instructor's charcoal as he tried to teach me not to draw accurately, but passionately. But thus was the fundamental gap in my artistic understanding—the difference between the surface realities that I wanted to depict, and the profound though elusive truths of the human condition that art could explore.

It was the difference between drawing a man's face and using abstraction to explore his soul.

But thus was the fundamental gap in my artistic understanding—the difference between the surface realities that I wanted to depict, and the profound though elusive truths of the human condition that art could explore.

While my grandfather describes the horrors of his experience in a forced labor camp during the Cultural Revolution, I could only grasp at fragments to comprehend the story of his struggle. As a child, visiting China each summer was a time of happiness, but it was also a time of frustration and alienation.

Running up to my grandpa, I racked my brain to recall phrases supposedly ingrained from Saturday morning Chinese classes. ” (“Hello, grandpa”), however, I struggled to form coherent sentences.No, it was not so clean and not so white and not so nice.But I have drawn—rather, lived—in this studio for most of my past ten years.Unsatisfied, I would scamper away to find his battered bamboo flute, and this time, with my eyes, silently beg him to play.Although I struggled to communicate clearly through Chinese, in these moments, no words were necessary.Indeed, it was the realm of disorder and messy studios and true art—a place where I could express the world like I saw it, in colors and strokes unrestrained by expectations or rules; a place where I could find refuge in the contours of my own chaotic lines; a place that was neither beautiful nor ideal, but real.No, it was not so clean and not so white and not so nice. ___ REVIEW Perhaps the most prominent facet of Bobby’s essay is the use of imagery.Throughout the rest of the piece, Bobby’s use of imagery brings his essay to life, with “black fingerprints and smudges” and “unsoiled whiteness” being used to describe his art.He also uses imagery to illustrate the contrast between his organized, type A persona and the abstract art he eventually creates.With the top applicants from every high school applying to the best schools in the country, it's important to have an edge in your college application. Because to me, there was only one "it," and "it" was a little less than two thousand miles west, an unassuming little office building located amidst a cluster of similarly unassuming little office buildings, distinguishable from one another on the outside only by the rusted numbers nailed to each door.These are 10 Harvard application essays and profiles from students who made it in. Inside, crude photocopies of students' artwork plastered the once white walls.

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