The art piece I've chosen to write about inspires me in a peculiar way. I care little for the actual composition of the piece, although it is beautiful, for it isn't my style. What inspires me about this piece, Irises by Vincent Van Gogh, is the story behind it. Many know of Van Gogh's famous works, and some even of his stay at an asylum. But not as many know his full story. His life was sad, without any kind of happy ending. His mother threw out his art, he never found love, and he suffered from physical and mental illness. Van Gogh didn't become famous until after he had died, from suicide nonetheless. This piece in particular, one of his most famous, was seen by Van Gogh as a simple study, not even worth attempting to sell. It was one of the paintings he made in the asylum, hoping to keep himself from succumbing to insanity through his art. Despite the melancholy tone of Van Gogh's life, it gives me hope. Hope that even after a lifetime of failure, my legacy can prevail, my work can live on and inspire those who come decades after me. It inspires me to keep painting, even if I can't seem to sell a single piece. Looking at Irises, remembering what came before and after it, inspires me to continue trying, even when I can't see tangible success.

I'm sure most people's books they'd designate as the most inspiring ones they've read have much deeper, more exciting, more dramatic contents than Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins. Nonetheless, this book is my favorite. I reread it frequently, and am left with an indescribable feeling every time I finish it. The plot of the book can barely even be called a plot. There isn't really a rising action, a climax, or any of the expected elements of a story. Just statements of facts, an account of a realistic time in a few teenagers' lives. In this way, Lynne Rae Perkins' story is unique. This uniqueness, this deceptive simplicity, gives the book the power to make you reflect. The focus on little pleasures of a normal, even boring experience repaints your entire perspective. Fresh bread from a bakery, reading in the summer air of your backyard, looking at the school yearbook with your best friend. Normal things that we take for granted, yet this book cherishes. That is what shifts your worldview, more than any big tragedy or heroic tale could ever. Despite its plain subject matter, I am left with an indescribable feeling every time I finish Criss Cross; a contemplative feeling, a feeling that inspires me to live more deeply, to take in every little piece of my life, to appreciate every crumb of good I get. Criss Cross inspires me to love not just the thrills in my life, but the breathing, the walking, the smell of my perfume, the wood floors beneath my feet, the spring feeling you only get in March each year, the laughter and talking and tears. It inspires me to live, to completely, fully live every single second.

At my first audition for a school play, I sucked. Looking back, I interpreted the character completely wrong, and did a horrible job acting it out. I received a (rightfully chosen) spot in the ensemble. That was almost three years ago. Now, I'm the Creative Arts Director of my school's drama club, a Student Director, and have played large roles such as Ebenezer Scrooge in Patrick Barlow's "A Christmas Carol", Yetta in Matt Thompson's "The 146 Point Flame", and Una in Laura Lundgren Smith's "We Are The Sea", receiving excellence in acting awards as Yetta and superiority in acting awards as Una from the MIFA at State and Regional competitions. This seems to be a particularly large jump, but it wasn't all at once, and it wasn't easy. As I said, I did not start out as a very impressive actress. I was, however, a determined one. After receiving nothing past ensemble positions during my first year of high school, I spent the entire summer practicing my acting. I played musical theatre nonstop, lip-syncing and practicing my facial expressions in the mirror, pacing my room delivering made-up monologues for hours on end. And it paid off. I started receiving only lead and lead-supporting roles from my sophomore year onwards. But I didn't stop striving for better. Still, I listen to that music, analyze my facial expressions, pace in my room. The only difference is that now the monologues aren't made up, they're ones I've earned. The facial expressions aren't in the mirror, they're in videos of me pouring my heart out on the stage. All that is to say that one of my best skills is my acting, second only to my dedication to it. My passion is what drives me to be better, to reach, indefinitely, for perfection.