As part of applying for VCU ive been asked to write an essay based off of the prompt pg. 87 of your auto biography. Im looking for constructive opinions/critiques. Please take into consideration the fact that this is a personal essay and very important to me. ...through the night’s deep velvet undertow, resurfacing every morning to trudge through the monotony that was a child’s lazy summer, devoid of responsibilities and true freedoms, subject to the whims of parents and gas prices alike. The sun was moving, glaring underneath my visor. My horse was moving, flexing under my saddle. My mind was moving, counting her strides under foot. My sweat steadily beading and succumbing to gravity as I breathed deep, the smells of late summer afternoons mingled with the dusty comfort only a barn could instill. As I rocked to the rhythm of her stride I felt the familiar sense of focus that my body developed during a particularly instense training session. I was never more content in my life than I was in that short span of seemingly inconsequential heartbearts. I’ve never understood why that moment, on that nameless day, was imprinted in my mind- why I’ve chosen to remember those thirty specific seconds of my life as if they’ve been captured by a camera, and replayed in my head no matter the length of time between each recall. What I have come to understand, is that that memory is one of the most important I posses. It is a blissfully innocent moment of focus and quiet strength, filled with a beauty that can only be found in a clean partnership between two living beings. For those thirty seconds, part of my mind was being shaped- the beginings of my character quietly being laid into the rhetorical bedrock of my soul. * * * * As my memory serves, it was only a few months later that I was thrown into a jump during a show, resulting in a dyslocated shoulder and a doctor’s mandate stating that I wasn’t to ride for at least four months unless I wanted to risk re-injuring myself and possibly doing permanent damage. Unfortunately, by the time I was finally allowed to get back in the saddle, my fear had grown to such an irrational size that I cowered under the weight and fled, hanging up my helmet and half-chaps for good. Later in life I would find myself a malcontent of many subjects. Never finding the satisfaction that others found within themselves in day-to-day happenings. Oh, how I envied them for it! To find peace in a bubble bath, on a park bench, in the face of a loved one…but I digress. My point simply being that since that moment, at the tender age of 14, I have never again found the muted rapture that is elemental focus. With this obvious dysfuntionality now explained, the remaining years of my high school career and much of my early collegiate experience will probably seem less… for lack of a better term, pell-mell. And so we move through and past a rather uneventful freshman year of high school. I say uneventful only in hindsight, because if I were to give credence to everything I used to consider important, I would never move past the age of 16. I fell in love, I fell out of love, and I came to know the pungent sting of jealousy and the curdled taste of bitterness. I know it sounds like something out of a bad love song, keened by a singer wearing too much make-up and not enough clothing, but what echos I do remember are nothing more now than a cacophony of emotions, condensed together and drawn into a jumbled mass of experiences that capture the essence of my first love. So the echos I keep, and the...
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 09:00:38 +0000
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