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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.
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.
Just as Bobby the new artist’s “lines began to unabashedly disregard the rules of depth or tonality,” so too did art slowly—from the playful light of Monet’s Impressionism, to the square faces of Picasso’s Cubism and the complete abstraction of Pollock’s expressionism—care less and less about how realistic it was and more about the message it conveyed.
In Bobby’s words, “It was the difference between drawing a man's face and using abstraction to explore his soul.” Disclaimer: With exception of the removal of identifying details, essays are reproduced as originally submitted in applications; any errors in submissions are maintained to preserve the integrity of the piece.
My young adolescent ears drank in the raw, chaotic beauty, an echo of the pain of the past. I was neither, which automatically deemed me “uncool.” I had a few close friends but never felt like I was part of a whole. I listened to a wider variety of music, even the kind that wasn’t 100% hardcore punk. I revised my punk philosophy: Do as you like—whether it fits into the “system” or not.
The thrashing, pulsating vitality of the instruments painted a picture, connecting me to the disillusioned kids who launched an epic movement of liberation some 40 years ago. Aggressively contrarian, they advocate for the other side—the side that seemed smothered silent during the post-Vietnam era. Then came the punk philosophy, for the outliers, for those who were different. Instead of trying to conform to my peers, I adopted an anti-conformist attitude. The Beatles’s “Revolution” lyrics sum it up well: What I think Lennon was getting at is questioning everything does not entail opposing everything.
It is first utilized to bring the reader into the piece and make the introduction pop, with “Late evening rays [...] casting a gentle glow” and “the soft luminescence of the art studio” becoming “a fluorescent glare.” Immediately, the reader knows what the essay will generally be about: art.
Still, in the beginning of the essay, a lot of information is left out, leaving the reader begging for details to contextualize the mental images Bobby leaves them.
Though I did point out that its origins trace back to jazz musicians of the Harlem Renaissance. I insisted I didn’t care what people thought of me, which was true.
Also that one of the greatest guitarists of all time—dear Mr. My devotion to punk rock began in seventh grade, when Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” came up on my i Tunes shuffle. Yet if I base my actions almost solely on their behavior, how could I deny their influence?