almost done with apps

1/2 hour: Act 1. Life is established.
Then, First Plot Point: Life is changed.
1 hour more: Act 2. Rumble Rumble of plot.
Second Plot Point/Climax: Point of no return
1/2 hour after: Act 3. Story ends where a Life is established.


I still have to read the first chapter of Reave's story.


This is a college essay I wrote. The question was 'in 500 words or less, describe why you would like to be a visual artist', or to that effect. It's exactly 495 words.


I want to do art so that I can help people deal with their own problems, like art helped me deal with mine. In middle school, I was extremely confused about the world. I could observe and I could observe, but I didn't understand the people around me. And then, I started doing art. Only drawing a little, at first, but it grew into a preferred pastime.
The drawing became a way to express what I could never have verbalized. I feel like that is the point of art. Words and labels limit the expression of emotion in a way art is seldom limited. The artist creates something that, in some way, discusses feelings that cannot be spoken about. And through this art, the artist can express his or her feelings. And through this art, the observer of it has the opportunity to understand these unspoken ideas. And perhaps, an understanding can be found. There is a new outlook on life. The observer has a conflict resolved. And so does the artist.
I am part of an integrated arts program called STAC, Student Television Arts Company, and although we do not work with television, we are truly a young arts company. There are 30 teens from all grades, and we come together every day for two and a half hours of integrated arts.
One of the most important aspects of our artistic journeys is the understanding of myth and storytelling. Last year, we read A Short History of Myth, and spent time recognizing Paleolithic myth with the Hunter, and Neolithic myth with the Mother Goddess. This year, we went further with the topic, understanding our own holidays as extensions of older celebrations.
Recently, we had our own Rebirth festival. Fall is technically the season of death, but since we are on a school schedule, it feels more like a beginning than an end. We toasted to 'better fortunes'. As a community of artists, STAC 'sacrificed' pop-tarts to be 'reborn' (according to custom in religions across the world). And we wrote on a giant paper, thirty feet long and six feet wide what we don't like about ourselves, and what we will do to be better. One giant piece of art, with feelings, designs, leaves, paint, and all the feelings we can't find words for.
It helped us understand that we weren't the only ones feeling certain ways. It helped us put out what we were trying to work out for ourselves, our own conflicts and ideas about life. And most of all, we each pledged to do better.
A rebirth into the second quarter of our schoolyear.
That is why I would like to be an artist. We could have just had a party. We could have just pledged to be better people. But, we put ourselves out there and learned from other people's expression. I want to be an artist so that I can help other people understand themselves. And maybe, I'll understand myself.

Soppy ending. I think I've written it for at least two essays.


Also, War of the Worlds, 1953, is amazing.