"Writer's Statement"

There was never a time when beauty, truth, nor goodness poured forth from the hands of a creator without deliberation. For what purpose would an artist devote years of his life to his work if he did not also get to take pleasure in the beauty of the final product? One simply would not—artists create with the intention of seeking personal growth, so that they may find beauty in what they love.

Although it had been three years prior since the trip to The Walter’s Art Museum, reflections from viewing the magnificent pieces came flooding back to mind during an attempt to conceptualize the perfect topic for a college essay. The difference this time around, however, was that instead of gazing upon renowned works of art, I was facing a blank Word document, with a spacer blinking back menacingly at me. Although my canvas was blank, I had the pastel oils, the tools to create the masterpiece I wanted—I was stagnant. And yet, my mind kept nagging: “Just put the words down. It does not have to be overthought, just list what you have to say. Even though it may not be the story you want to tell, it may not be perfect, it is still important.” And yet, this scared me all the more.

However, I had not yet recognized this challenge as a gift—so in the moment of brainstorming for a simple college essay, I sat there incompetently, doubting my ability to present something captivating to a college administration. After all, I have always struggled with articulating all I have to say. Unlike many of the other students I have known, who had the ability to automatically print their thoughts onto paper into a perfectly formatted paper within a class period, I am not a printing machine. Instead, I consider myself an artist, one who carefully anticipates each stroke of their paintbrush, thoughtfully deciding where each word will be placed on my canvas. As an artist and storyteller, the goal is to illustrate for readers; to allow all who read to gracefully glide along the bends of my artwork—immersed in the beautiful experience I have curated for them.

After hours, days, and weeks of rewording, revising, and several emotional breakdowns, I had come up with a piece I felt was only subpar. Yet, as I read over it now, I can appreciate it, as it communicates how far I have come—as a reader, writer, storyteller, artist, and person. And though it exposed my vulnerability, it is a part of my story—of how I haven’t let dyslexia define me, but allowed myself to see how that gift has enabled introspective reflection on true beauty in my own narrative.