Prompt:

Describe a problem you’ve solved or a problem you’d like to solve. It can be an intellectual
challenge, a research query, an ethical dilemma — anything of personal importance, no
matter the scale. Explain its significance to you and what steps you took or could be taken
to identify a solution.

I prop my phone against folded blankets and deformed pillows so that the flashlight creates a
stream of light that cascades across my sheets and onto the pages of an open sketchbook. My
eyes strain to look at the clock on my dresser as the time reads 2:52 am. It is pitch black outside
with only the warm street lights highlighting spots on the ground and surrounding bushes. Calm
and serene is the space just beyond the glass of my windows and within the walls that I cover in
photos and posters to remind myself of who I am. Silence except for the soft snores coming from
my parents’ room across the hall.

My brain has become a pile of sewing needles, threads still hooked through all of their eyes.
They are moving in all directions, all faster than I can comprehend, and the threads are becoming
more and more tangled. My face contorts as I write superficial poems and phrases in my
sketchbook because I haven't recognized reality in weeks. Smashing the tips of my paint pens
into the paper so that liquid red, yellow, and blue spew out and onto the paper, I smear the colors
across the page to let out my frustration and feel in control. Feel like I’m doing something
important. Maybe if I keep swirling this paint and writing nonsense I will become motivated and
inspired. Two things I haven't felt in weeks.

I am desperate.

Inadequacy shoots through my body, shaking my arms and hands. My lines become less straight
and words jumbled. Selfishly I like the way my panic has made my art look. At the expense of
my mental state, I have created. In a moment so heated the overwhelming urge is too much to
forget this time.

By 3:00 am I have filled three pages of my sketchbook which I now close, paint still wet.
Markers go back in their jars and on the shelf they live on. My breathing has slowed and the
needles in my skull have turned back to jelly. I am satisfied with myself but only for tonight. I
think to myself before I drift off to sleep that I will paint again tomorrow or at least sketch
something new. But I don't. I wake up in the morning and do the same unimportant things I have
done everyday leading up to last night.

No matter how hard it may be, looking into ourselves and contemplating why we do the things
we do is important to moving forward as people. When I think about my lack of motivation and
the events similar to that of which I described above, it is easy to move on without digging at the
root of the problem. Now, I have recognized these habits that I have been ignoring. I am able to
begin working on them so that I can better understand how I function as a person and what I can
do to improve upon my weaknesses. With determination, grit, and perseverance I will push
myself to become a dedicated student and expressive artist. My goal to graduate college and
become an art teacher (and hopefully professor one day) who will inspire the next generation of
artists relies on the important decisions I make now. Every day that I choose to put away
distractions and get my work done, above and beyond standards, is a day that I am working
towards not only a successful future, but also a happy one.