MR Studio - Ghaziabad

Amaging photography...lovely

Nice

Nice click and editing Nice all work like pre wedding Wedding ceremoney and all other works

Excellent piece of work Nice pics clicking Nd More attractive work

Excellent photography and all pic and video making are very nice Nice work doing this studio And all the best

The Crimson Brand Studio Successful Harvard Application Essays 10 Successful Harvard Application Essays With the top applicants from every high school applying to the best schools in the country, it's important to have an edge in your college application. These are 10 Harvard application essays and profiles from students who made it in. sponsored by  Bobby State: California, USA High School: Private boarding school, 100 students in graduating class Ethnicity: Asian Gender: Male GPA: 4.0 out of 4.0 SAT: Reading 750, Math 750, Writing 800 ACT: n/a SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, Biology E/M, Literature Extracurriculars: Nonprofit director, Editor-in-Chief of student newspaper, Senior Editor of literary magazine, Art Prefect, varsity baseball player Awards: Williams Book Prize, National Merit Scholar, AP Scholar with Distinction, Scholastic Art and Writing Regional Gold Key Major: Government Sponsored by The Brain Domain: A Houston-based academic preparation business with glowing feedback and global operations, The Brain Domain features college counseling, test preparation, and one-on-one tutoring tailored to students’ unique learning styles. ESSAY Bold white rafters ran overhead, bearing upon their great iron shoulders the weight of the skylight above. Late evening rays streamed through these sprawling glass panes, casting a gentle glow upon all that they graced—paper and canvases and paintbrushes alike. As day became night, the soft luminescence of the art studio gave way to a fluorescent glare, defining the clean rectilinear lines of Dillon Art Center against the encroaching darkness. It was a studio like no other. Modern. Sophisticated. Professional. And it was clean and white and nice. But it just wasn't it. Because to me, there was only one "it," and "it" was a little less than two thousand miles west, an unassuming little office building located amidst a cluster of similarly unassuming little office buildings, distinguishable from one another on the outside only by the rusted numbers nailed to each door. Inside, crude photocopies of students' artwork plastered the once white walls. Those few openings in between the tapestry of art were dotted with grubby little handprints, repurposed by some overzealous young artist as another surface for creative expression. In the middle of the room lay two long tables, each covered with newspaper, upon which were scattered dried-up markers and lost erasers and bins of unwanted colored pencils. These were for the younger children. The older artists—myself included—sat around these tables with easels, in whatever space the limited confines of the studio allowed. The instructor sometimes talked, and we sometimes listened. Most of the time, though, it was just us—children, drawing and talking and laughing and