<p>Hi!
<p>^ oh. that’s funny?</p>
<p>Here’s another, from my book:
*The fourteen candles were blown out and smoke was rising above the cake. The acrid smell always reminded me of birthdays. As my mom moved the cake away to cut it into pieces for all of my friends, I turned to the pile of presents on the chair next to me. Everyone gathered around as I picked up the first one, the largest, wrapped not in the frilly paper that all the others had, but in a simple tan monochrome wrapping with a frayed cord that had been tied into a bow knot. I noticed that it was from my older sister. My friends laughed at the sound of ripping paper as I hurried to see what it was. I was a little confused when I saw the large sketchpad and the set of pastels and charcoal. What was this and why was my sister giving it to me?</p>
<p>It was almost six months later when I thought of the gift in my closet. I was busily drawing on the cover of my textbook. I pulled out the sketchpad and pastels and opened to the first blank page. The whiteness and the texture of the sheet were much more inviting than the book cover, but I was afraid to start. No matter what I drew would ruin the newness of it all. I put it all away.</p>
<p>Later that afternoon I brought it out again, determined to start something in it, a way of breaking the ice between me and that sketchpad. I still remember the drawing I started, trying to capture the face of an old Barbie doll I had from when I was younger. I was only halfway through when I decided it was horrible and scratched through it with the black charcoal. I turned the page and was met with another white canvas inviting me to try again. Another terrible attempt, but I didnt scratch it out. Maybe my next one would be better. And I could compare it and see where I needed to improve.</p>
<p>That sketchbook lasted a while, and I needed to go out and buy other ones. My art classes in school took on more meaning and I did get better. But I still treasured that first sketchpad as a documentation of my starting point, no matter how bad those first attempts had been.</p>
<p>My sister knew me better than I did. While I was originally disappointed in the gift, it became my closest companion. I can see in that sketchbook my initial evolution as an artist. Each page shows how I developed abilities to sketch not only the world which I could see, but also express the world of emotions inside me. I didnt know it at the time, but it became the best present I ever received. It gave me a new passion in my life that is only growing stronger.*
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<p>–Robert Cronk, author of [Concise Advice: Jump-Starting Your College Admissions Essays (Second Edition)](<a href=“http://www.amazon.com/dp/0974386723 ”>http://www.amazon.com/dp/0974386723</a> )</p>