Exhibition

Well, it’s finally done. The piece is complete, and the exhibition has passed. Here was the final result:

Oh happy days. I’m fairly pleased with how it turned out. Of course, if you’ve read my previous post, you know that the goal was to create a piece akin to one of Duffy Sheridan’s, so this is naturally a little poorer in terms of quality (then again, I was aiming to emulate the technique of a living master, so go figure that it wasn’t exactly the same given the four days I had to make this. : \) In any case, the piece incorporates all of the concepts I had hoped to achieve earlier. I had received critique that people could not identify my work’s pertinence to the line; I would have thought that I myself am a very crucial part of the line, but that’s just me. In any case, here is the entire presentation:

And here is a closeup of the ground up materials:

 This project went fairly well, I think. I got quite positive feedback as a general rule, and I feel more accomplished for my efforts. I shall continue to work on the piece until I deem it to be gallery standard, if I can manage to find the time. Whatever the case, the experience was, as far as I am concerned, a good one.

I do believe this concludes the Alfred Foundations section of this blog for this semester! Thank you for reading and enjoy Winter break! Au revoir!

Homework: The Focus

This post entails information concerning the research I conducted for my final project. In essence, I went back and thought more about the nature of time. I believe I may have mentioned some of my thoughts on time in a previous post, but time is without a doubt the most valuable resource we have. We are given a finite amount at the beginning of our lives and NOTHING can ever add another second to our allotment. Therefore, momento mori, despite its age, is still one of the most relevant types of conceptual art in existence; it applies to virtually everyone capable of witnessing it.

In addition, if our time here is limited, then I figured it would be a shame to spend it doing things that I’d rather not if I can avoid them. So, despite the fact that I was encouraged to create an abstract piece (or, rather, discouraged from making a naturalist one) I went ahead and created a realistic rendition of myself anyways; it was important to my piece that I created a naturalist image, not only in the philosophical implication that one should pursue one’s desires with the time one has been given regardless of the opposition, but also for another reason: I wanted my art to capture a moment in time. It captured a moment of my life, freezing in time that one instant where a broad, toothy grin played across my face. That is the ultimate beauty of naturalism: it immortalized a reality. The dust in front of the piece showed a stark contrast between the kind of art I was being asked to do (which was temporal and withered away) and the type of art that I like to do (that which lasts for centuries to come). I like painting in oils mainly for that reason, actually, and I figured that there was no type of art more pertinent to the subject at hand than the type that I already liked. But what finer bonus was there than to thumb my nose at the type of art that I likewise disliked for its lack of lasting value? It was simply ideal!

So, I concluded that grinding the materials I used to dust would illustrate their temporal nature; they had their time and they passed away, turning to dust like all other living things. They would contrast the evergreen moment that I chose to display. How I chose to create that moment was very, VERY important. I chose deliberately to work from a mirror instead of a photo, because while a photo, again, captures a single moment in time, working from a mirror would allow me to achieve what I believed to be a greater sense of three-dimensionality and reality, which was more of what the moment was about than a specific likeness, in my eyes. I used a technique utilized by Duffy Sheridan, a living master whose work inspires me immensely. The true, lifelike rendition his style creates is simply exquisite, and I attempted to make use of that technique as much as I was able during the process. Here is a self-portrait Mr. Sheridan created that I used as another source of inspiration:

As you can see, the lifelike quality in this piece is simply stunning; he has almost recreated each individual hair lining his face, scalp, and arms. I, of course, did not hope for an instant that my piece would reach this level of completion in the time allotted, but I nevertheless determined to put it as near to this as possible before the show. I also decided that I would not make my hair as detailed as this; I wanted it to have more of a Van Gogh look to it. And, of course, the look could not possibly be as three dimensional and developed as this, as I already said. I’m rambling, mostly due to embarrassment that my piece should fall so short of this ideal. Still, my grandfather once told me: “Shoot for the moon; even if you miss, you’ll still land among the stars.” I intend to adhere to that.

So, here is an image of my piece in progress. Again, this is more of a “drawing in paint” at this point, so in comparison to the image above, it stinks. But it’s getting there!

So far so good; the ears are a little off, and my teeth look like tombstones, but outside of that, it’s coming along. Next stop: final product! Here’s the link to the end result.

 

Homework: The Proposal

Finally, I’ve gotten around to working on my proposal post. Due to heavy work in other areas, this post was delayed for quite some time, so sorry about that. My proposal originally stated that I would be creating a mixed media self-portrait, using oil paints and other materials that I used in my previous explorations. The three materials I planned on using were: a. the rose I used in my time lapse exploration, b. the walking stick from my word exploration, and c. the map I used towards the beginning of the semester in my territory exploration. All of them were to be grinded into the paints, metaphorically demonstrating that pieces and experiences of the Line were now “embedded in me”.

I had planned to position myself facing to the viewer’s left, my right, with my head drooping at a slight 20 degree angle. I was to stare out at the viewer. After examining the sketch I drew (which, I’m sorry to say, I do not have photographed), I was shocked to see that it looked startlingly similar to an old self portrait I had made when I was fifteen:

After discussing with one of my instructors some ways to make the painting more expressive and separate from my previous piece, I decided that I would instead be facing towards the viewer (a pose with which I was previously very uncomfortable) and that instead of the dark, forboding background and harsh shadows, I would use lighter, subtler colors. I had determined internally to use the colors of fall, in part because I’m particularly partial to that season and its hues, but also because it happened to coincide with the colors I saw when performing my explorations. I also decided that I would have myself smiling to make the image more expressive and inviting.

In addition, we decided that it would be too difficult to make the viewer understand that there were other materials in the paints or that they had any historical significance if they were mixed into the image. I decided instead to separate the ground materials into three small seed containers in front of the image. In addition to giving it the metaphoric meaning that those materials and experiences inspired the final project, it also made them visible to the viewer. They also entered the viewer’s space more, making it more visually interesting.

So, with that said, let’s take a look at the philosophy behind my new self portrait.

Homework: The Word, Exploration

My word, as I have previously stated, is the word “react”, and to briefly summarize it, react is the process of responding to stimuli. I decided that the best way to document this was to record my reactions with a taperecorder; my hands hardly move as rapidly as my brain, after all. I was able to identify numerous stimuli and thought processes while I was performing my exploration of the line that illustrate the nature of reaction rather well.  I’ll be discussing them individually to avoid any confusion.

Before I begin, it just occurred to me that I should explain why I chose to record myself as opposed to external events or other people. The reason for that is mainly because people unconsiously censor what they say; in my discussion with one of my classmates while performing this exercise, it was brought to my attention that it looks rather bad to go around saying exactly what I think into a recorder. Other people would probably have been very unwilling to express exactly what they think about random people walking down the street in order that they might not seem judgmental; the only true way to gauge an actually legitimit response is for me to respond to the thing myself. It sounds terrible to say that I am the only source that I trust, but I think that accuracy is important in this kind of assessment, so I refused to leave that up to chance in any regard.

In fact, this was one of the things that I noticed first about my exploration; early on in the examination, I censored myself very heavily. I didn’t want to go on the record as sounding judgmental or negative. This is essentially one of the most natural reactions we have; we’re very self-concious. I do classify it as a reaction because it is a response to stimuli around us; we are placed in situations where we feel others’ perceptions about us could be swayed negatively and naturally react to defeat or divert the predicament. So censorship and “thinking before you speak” is essentially a reaction; we immediately react to some situations by refusing to say anything until we are certain that the way in which we plan to behave causes no slight to our own reputations.

We don’t need to know someone by reputation in order to make a judgment about them, however; I formulate an opinion about someone long before they’ve opened their mouths. That initial impression I recieve of other people was perhaps the thing that interested me most about this exercise; I knew that I create first impressions almost as soon as I clap eyes someone, but I didn’t know what factors played a part in that first judgment. I wanted to break down the mental process that occurs in that one second and see why my impressions are favorable or unfavorable.

After examining close to six people, I happened upon one that illustrated perfectly exactly how my brain works in determining first impressions. The fellow I saw was tall, standing around six feet and two inches or so. He had long, greasy, brown hair, oily, waxen skin, a hooked nose, and glasses. He was wearing a gray T-shirt with a cartoon-style image of a chicklet in a tie on the front, a pair of sweat pants, and white sneakers. Despite the fact that I found few of these features to be attractive or inviting upon close examination, I realized that I did not get a negative first impression. Why was that? It suddenly occurred to me that it was because all of the information I had recieved about his appearance indicated that he had just come from the gym. Wet hair and skin, sweats, and running shoes are all good indicators that he had been performing vigourous exercise. What shocked me about this revelation was that I had to piece this together conciously in order to come to the conclusion that he had been working out, but my brain had unconciously taken all of that information together as a whole and jumped to that same positive conclusion without my considering it at all. It had made the “first-impression” in no more than half of a second, whereas it took me close to five minutes to logically determine my hypothesis. I was awestruck by this; our brains work so quickly and efficiently even without our knowing it!

 

Another way in which I react is by listening to music. Sound in general produces reactions in our bodies in ways I can barely fathom. I tried listening to a variety of different instrumentals ranging from “Mary Did You Know” on the Zimbabwaian Array Mbira to a piece by Bach on the Swedish Nyckelharpa, to an original piece by Andy Mckee on the guitharp. They invoked drastically different responses from me. “Mary Did You Know” induced me to feel a deep sense of relaxation; my muscles literally felt like they were coming appart at the seams. Some of that had to do with the composition of the music while other portions of it had to do with the light plucking and soft reverberation of the Array Mbira. Bach, on the other hand, nearly brought me to tears; it wasn’t a sad song, but I felt genuine awe, both at the skill with which the musician played the Nyckelharpa and at something else which to this very moment I still cannot find words to describe. My point is that I had both physical and psychological reactions to this type of stimulus that altered my perception of the line.

Here are two Youtube videos of the songs:

Mary Did You Know

Bach’s Cello Suite 1

Location also has a large part to play in the process of reaction. Lonely, empty spaces such as the wooded area in the Southern section of the line inspired me to think more about God and creation, whereas populated, industrialized areas such as Alfred State and Main Street gave me more cause to think about people and man-made works. The fact that I thought about what I surounded myself with seems pretty reasonable to me. Coming from a Christian household, I was always taught that whatever I put into my head would eventually begin to affect me. For example, if I suround myself with friends who extensively use foul language, I am going to be thinking about swearing more and more often. If I remove that influence from my presence, I likewise am urged to think about it less often. Therefore, this particular realization confirmed ideas that had already been a major part of my ideology.

 

 

Homework: Word Definition

Bang! There is a big, strange, white picture on a brown, wooden background, burning into your eyes as it leaps off your screen. What do you do? Are you shielding your eyes, wincing, blinking, or are you examining the picture and trying to determine its meaning? You are now in the process of “reaction”, the most common, interactive, and under-appreciated function our brains perform every day. Before I ever study any conceptual subject, however, I like to define it a little bit. Here are a few definitions of the word “React”:

 

intransitive verb

1: to exert a reciprocal or counteracting force or influence —often used with on or upon

 

2: to change in response to a stimulus

 

3: to act in opposition to a force or influence —usually used with against

4: to move or tend in a reverse direction

5: to undergo chemical reaction

 

-taken from the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary-

 

 

There are other ways to define the word “reaction”, of course. Reaction can just easily mean “response”, as in: “She had a very negative reaction when she was told that her phone was run through the washing machine.”  A reaction is always a response to an action that affects the individual in some way; it has a kind of challenging feel to it, in my eyes. If I was a parent and my child was threatened by a dog, my reaction might be to go and remove my kid from the vicinity of the animal. Alternatively, if it was attacking, instead of using the opposite reaction, namely fleeing the beast, I could choose to attack it and eliminate it as a threat to my child.

 

As that metaphor demonstrates, reactions do not have to be opposite of their initial prompt. The Merriam-Webster definition, ”to exert a reciprocal or counteracting force or influence —often used with on or upon” is a good example of this.  Just because there is an equal and opposite reaction doesn’t necessarily mean that is the one that is made; if I love someone, that does not guarantee that they hate me in return. That kind of reasoning is just silly.

 

Up to this point, I have only discussed reaction in its noun form. To briefly summarize, a reaction (noun) is the end result of a response. If you hold out your hand for me to shake and I shake it, then that was my reaction. React, on the other hand, is a verb and describes the process of reacting. Again, if you hold out your hand for me to shake, then I have to decide based upon a variety of factors if I wish to shake it or not. Are your hands clean? Do I like you? Is my handshake good, or is it like a limp-fish handshake? Will my social image be tarnished or enhanced if I physically associate with you in public? Is this the appropriate setting for that kind of greeting? The list goes on and on, and our brains can make all of these decisions combined in less than a second! That is what I find fascinating about “react”; it is so complex, and yet conducted with such ease that the process passes most of us by.

 

I do think that reactions are virtually instaneous across the board. Earlier today, I thrusted a piece of paper with the word “react” written across it into the faces of a few of my classmates and demanded a rapid response. Usually, it would take them a moment or two to decide what to do before they responded. Now one could say that because they waited, their reaction was drawn out and not done with the rapidity I described earlier. However, their brain imediately determined that this was a situation that it needed to think through more carefully, so therefore the students did nothing. From that perspective, choosing to take a moment to think out their next decision was in-and-of itself their reaction.

 

It is this decision-making that forms the crux of the word “react”, and that is the area I intend to examine throughout the course of this project. My word ends with a “T”, and I think that it is likewise appropriate to end my investigation of it at the crossroads of decisions rather than where they lead. The reaction is defined by which direction one chooses to go and not by the action itself. When I said “react” and put a piece of paper in people’s faces, what they did was not so important as how they came to the decision that they eventually carried out. Some people tried to make the comical side of the predicament stand out by making a funny noise and a scared face. Why? Was it because they actually found the situation to be funny and wanted to play along, or was it because that is how they blow off uncomfortable encounters? Other people were startled (I could tell because their eyes fluttered and their pupils dilated) and attempted to pass off the situation with nonchalance rather than admit to being taken aback. Again, why? Is it harmful to their image to be startled by something so trivial, or was it to demonstrate that they found my investigation to be annoying or unimportant?  To summarize, I am not so much interested in the end result of the reaction as much as the forces that prompted something to go that way.

Homework: Exploring the Line

(This is a fictional narative/history of the line and a particular soul who examined it. My explorations have been incorporated into the story and shall be briefly explained in greater detail in a future addition to this post should it prove necessary.)

Steward

A finer day of Autumn could scarcely be imagined. No wind disturbed the fair grasses and delicate trees that grew rampantly on the foothills of New York. No clouds dimmed the radiant sunlight that warmed the air and made the trees and glades glow pleasantly. It was in this glorious day that an unfamiliar being formed within the woods South of the place known as “Cohen”. It was crawling barely faster than half a foot per second, and its infantile motions were unsullied by arrogance, worry, or sorrow. It felt its way along the ground innocently and with grasping fingers. The soil and pebbles crunched softly between its supple hands, and it bowed low to sniff the damp ground and it trudged along. A musty aroma rose up to its delicate nostrils, and though the scent was by no means enjoyable, the creature did not reel back. As it teetered and fidgeted about, it happened to stamp on a delicate fern.

“Ouch!” cried young Fern as the creature passed clumsily over her. “I don’t like it! Make it go away, someone!”

“You there! Shoo!” said matronly Maple, sifting the creature to one side with one of her lithe bows. “Unkind little things, aren’t they?”

“I don’t mind them much,” said a nearby road in an offended tone.

“Easy for you to say, Asphalt,” said Maple, exasperatedly. “They made you to endure them.”

The road wrinkled its craggy face but said nothing in return.

“What is it?” inquired Fern, timidly. “If it treads on me again, I’m afraid I might die! ”

“It’s what we call a ‘steward’, Fern. Don’t take the injury personally; stewards always begin a little on the rough side. Sometimes it can take most of their lives for them to mature, come to think of it. Perhaps it will be gentler when it next returns”

“I tell you,” chuckled Asphalt in his gravely voice, “that it’ll come back worse than when it left us; they always do.”

“Keep a civil tongue in your head, Asphalt, or so help me I shall remove it!” snapped Maple, sharply. Solemnly, the three of them watched as the creature tumbled out of sight.

 

Time passed from morning to midday, and as the creature moved Northwards, it struggled to continue its tedious crawling. Its knees were stiffening; it needed to stand. Slowly its crawling became a lope, and its lope became a totter, and its totter became a stumble, and its stumble became a walk. By the time it had reached a building with the words “SCHOOL OF ENGINEERING” written on its front, the being stood fully erect and moved with ease from place to place. It passed over a T-intersection of pavement, through the elaborate complex of a vast art studio, across the street to Cohen, and all in a matter of minutes. No more would this being endure laborious shuffling along the ground! It reveled in its new-found powers; it moved swiftly across the rickety wooden bridge behind Cohen, then across a road and up a steep incline to the steps of Alfred State. Little brick town houses passed it by like the wind, and it continued to accelerate its pace. It passed by a fenced-off construction area, trotted up a set of winding stairs, and slipped by a gymnasium before reaching the top of a wide hill. A vast landscape of brick and mortar was laid bare before the Steward, and he sighed with pleasure at his glorious view and the achievements of his fellows.

Nevertheless, the woods whispered to it to return, and begrudgingly obliged, returning by the route from whence it came. As it passed by the last house in the complex, it hesitated upon the threshold of civilization and rural wilderness before returning to see its place of origin.

Maple swayed happily, Fern blushed, shyly, and even Asphalt managed to crack a smile. But the Steward seemed in no mood to linger. It seemed more interested in “getting a breath of fresh air” than in meeting with its old companions. Even as it walked, it muttered to itself about how it had to get back soon; the town too was calling, with the sounds of many voices talking idly, cars rolling by, and planes soaring through the air, and every sound was carried by the rustling of the wind. “I think I’ve had enough hiking for now,” said the Steward in a self-satisfied sort of way, and he brazenly strolled out of the woods, crushing sticks and brambles that happened to be in his way. Were it to look back, it would have seen nature itself shed a tear of disappointment. “Tread softly, Steward!” cautioned Fern, mournfully. “For you tread on your friends!”

Again, time passed, and the being found that just as crawling had become more difficult, so now walking was similarly less and less easy. It took for itself a walking stick and used it to descend from the forest into the town once more; the gnarled exterior of the stick reminded the Steward of the fallen trees it had so recently stepped over, and it became a terrible momento mori to the creature. It knew that its time was coming to a close. The Steward traversed the college of Alfred State once more, thinking to find solace in surrounding civilization. Instead, it found isolation; its limping, hunched frame drew many awkward stares from passerby, but no-one dared speak to it. Why? What did he do to deserve such isolation?

Downtrodden, the man we have called “Steward” returned to the forest in one last sojourn, his walking stick beating heavily against the pavement as he walked. The sound of it heralded his arrival, and as he approached, he felt the bitter taste of remorse enter his mouth. This was the only place that really accepted him, was it not? The one place that was always there whether he needed it or not; the place of his birth and now the place of his death.  Had he retained his childish curiosity, he might have enjoyed his short life more; as it was, he had wasted nearly two thirds of it in coming full-circle. But nevermind! He was home!

Maple, Fern, and Asphalt looked onwards with delight as the man slowly trudged up the hill, his walking stick barely supporting his weight. “Ho there!” exclaimed Fern. “He looks different; has he sprouted another leg?”

“Perhaps its a magic one?” suggested Asphalt. “I’ve seen them sprout wheels before, you know.”

“Wheels? You’ve been out in the sun too long, old thing,” said Fern, teasingly.

“I’m just glad he’s come back to us,” sighed Maple. “After all this time, I was beginning to think that he wasn’t coming.”

As the man trudged onwards, his walking stick pierced an old log that lay strewn across his path. The bark crumbled from its surface, looking more akin to dirt than wood, and centipedes crawled out from within its confines. The man stared at the dirt for a moment, his mouth scarcely moving as he whispered under his breath. Then he smiled, and the wrinkles of his face penetrated deep into his folds of skin. “For you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” said the man, not so much to the forest as to himself. Maple nodded, sagely, and with the wind empowering her, she beckoned him to her bosom, and he came without question. He slumped to the ground and his prophecy came to be so; the old man finally passed away in those woods, and the leaves and roots of many trees covered him until he was no more. His body became like the dust of the earth, and his form became like chaff in the wind, blown away without a trace by the passage of years. For him, it was indeed the END OF THE LINE.

Personal Territory Tour

Introduction/Images of Territory: It is now time to examine my personal Territory Tour! For this project, I chose to explore the river that runs across Alfred University. I’m enchanted by rivers; they are a profound metaphorical representation of time to me. They are constantly flowing, they never form in the same way twice, their contents are precious, and their course is very difficult to stop. Once water slips through your fingers, you can never get that particular bit of water back; it’s gone without a trace, and it is immediately replaced by new water. Such is the consistent, fluid motion of water, however, that we cannot identify a single drop from another when they are all set in motion. The list of similarities goes on, of course, and I won’t touch upon all of them here. For more details on my thoughts about time in general, you can examine a previous post  I made concerning an exploration from “How To Be An Explorer Of The World” which deals with the subject.

Here are some pictures of the river I chose to explore:

The Fifty Things: There were fifty things I noticed about my personal territory:

1. The pathway down to the river is very overgrown.

2. As I step out onto the rocks, I notice how smooth and slippery they are despite the fact that no water runs over them. They must have been affected by the water when the river rose earlier this year.

3. The water is significantly colder than the air around me.

4. The walls of dirt and roots containing the river are heavily worn away by erosion save for the pathway down to the riverbank.

5. The bridge that allows passage over the waters is roughly 15 feet above the river.

6. There is a small cluster of large rocks that creates a miniature waterfall-type effect, but rather than slowing the water’s progress, it only increases its rapidity.

7. The foam never falls in the same way twice.

8. Most of the pebbles in the river are about the size of my pinky nail.

9. The trees surrounding the river bend inwards to create a cavern of foliage over the stream.

10. The light is not dimmed terribly by the shade of the trees.

11. The water comes up around my ankles quite frequently.

12. The rocks are terribly slippery.

13. It is raining lightly, almost like a mist.

14. I can hear cars from the street.

15. People occasionally walk over the bridge, but seldom does anyone bother to look at the river. Few people see me.

16. The visible area from both ends of my territory stretches approximately 100 feet.

17. There are no areas that are easily traversable save for the pathway into the river.

18. There is a surprising amount of green foliage despite the lateness of the season.

19. There is a large yellow bush near the end of my boundaries that catches my eye.

20. I can hear the rain falling into the river.

21. The water slows after it passes beneath the bridge.

22. I cannot see or hear any birds or other wildlife.

23. The bridge is made of concrete.

24. There is a large, unnatural-looking rock with swirls across its surface embedded in the dirt near the entrance.

25. Upstream is composed mostly of dirt and silt.

26. Downstream is composed mostly of rocks and pebbles.

27. The shoreline on the right-hand side facing up-stream is approximately 7-8 feet in width.

28. The shoreline on the left-hand side facing up-stream is about only 4 feet wide.

29. The water seeps through the bottom of my shoes fairly slowly.

30. There is occasional moss on the rocks.

31. The r trees have numerous small branches low down on their trunks.

32. The roots of one of the trees on the right side of the river facing up-stream are gnarled and twisted.

33. Water pools around the roots but does not actually engulf them.

34. There is a wide variety of different species of plant life nearby.

35. One cannot really see “the Green Monster” staircase from where I am sitting.

36. The water seems laced with mud; when I withdraw my pants, they come up filthy.

37. The wind isn’t’ channeled through the gorge as much as I thought it would be.

38. The air is not as bitterly cold near the water as it is outside of the river bed.

39. The air smells fresh and has a certain marshy quality to it.

40. The air is (naturally) very moist, but by no means thick.

41. Even though I place my feet on the jagged parts of the rocks to get a footing, they cause me no pain.

42. The leaves are wet and dripping with moisture.

43. The river is too wide at most points to jump across.

44. It is easier jumping over to the right side of the river facing upstream than it is to jump back.

45. Leaves float easily downstream after they pass over the mini-fall.

46. The moisture  permeates my clothes and leaves me feeling clammy and chilled. 

47. I’m leaving now;  the sunlight has become noticeably dimmer.

48. The thin branches of the bushes softly stroke my hair as I exit the riverbank.

49. The branches bend back easier coming out of the stream than coming in.

50. The climb off of the banks of the stream is much more technically difficult than when entering.

Explorations: Exploration #25: Water. This exploration seems quite appropriate given the subject matter involved. It also encourages me to get involved with the river itself despite the bitter weather. I altered the exploration slightly so that the participants would attempt to physically alter the water themselves, slapping it with their hands, stirring it with sticks, and anything else that might produce something visually interesting or recognizable.

Exploration #31: Found Sounds. Again, the bubbling of the stream made this one seem ideal. It really encouraged me to listen hard in order to hear over the noise, and it motivated me to move around in my territory to find a place where the noise was less powerful. I was surprised by how much I could actually hear from the banks of the river; cars from the street, the rustling of leaves in the wind, the sound of rain, and even a football practice were audible over the rushing of the water. It helped me to become even more aware of my r and get into the project. It was also a nice chance to dry my feet off a bit and warm up after splashing around for so long.

Exploration #37: Time Observation. I really liked doing this one on my own, and I wanted to develop it further by actually performing an observation of time instead of just thinking up ways to do it. Watching various objects of different densities travelling downstream at different rates illustrates to me how our perception of time isn’t necessarily always accurate. It was also showed more clearly the speed and movement of the water, something that can be difficult to gauge simply by examining its surface. Lastly, it was a really calming way of ending a rather intense, inquisitive, and unpleasant-feeling adventure, and it brought about the logical conclusion of my perception-of-time study, namely that there is no perfect way to tell time outside of counting it, but there are many ways to appreciate its passing. How we recognize that time is fleeting affects our appreciation of its value.

The Tour Guide: My guide was deliberately kept simple because of its final function: it needed to be able to float down stream to end the last exploration. To that end, I wanted it to be light and biodegradable so that it could float and so that it would not harm the environment when it found its final resting place. After a little thinking, I concluded that plain old paper was the only material that seemed really suitable. In order to spruce it up, I painted the paper in watered down coffee and dabbed it with a wetted tea bag in order to give the guide an aged, weathered look. I also tore at the edges while the paper was still wet to achieve the frays along the sides of the page; by the end, it looked like a letter from a bygone time. I picked my font to look like it was made by a thick pen, and I made certain to italicize everything to emulate the appearance of handwriting. Here is an image of the final product:

Overall, the entire project was pretty unpleasant, much in part due to the fact that I chose my spot poorly given the cold weather. I didn’t plan on spending as much time in the water as I actually did, and while the chilliness of the water wasn’t intolerable, it certainly made concentrating more difficult. Oddly enough, it wasn’t so much the water from the river as it was the mist from the air that got to me; I was simply drenched when I crawled out of the banks and went up the Green Mile. I seriously recommend water-resistant gear and shoes with good traction for anyone attempting my tour; it will make the experience much more enjoyable.

Exploration #43: Found Paper

Paper is a substance that I usually take for granted. It’s always around in reasonable quantities and whatever type or quality it is rarely matters. But here at Alfred University I’ve been made aware of the many types of paper and their unique specialities and functions. So I went and collected 8 diffferent “specimens” of paper from various areas for examination. Here they are:

I love these. They illustrate two of the many ways in which paper can be used. The first set of samples I picked for their practical qualities. The cardboard pieces have advertisements and propoganda imprinted upon them, causing them to be “practical”. Likewise, the notepaper and the bill are both meant for recording information, and that again puts them in the practical category.

In stark contrast with the first set, the second set of samples is used simply for its inherent aesthetic value.  The top left has no practical use; it’s too dark to write upon and too flimsy to make much out of. Instead, it could be used to adorn other paper or as a scrapbook material, both of which fall under the category of visual appreciation. The bottom left could be used for writing, but such is the fine make of the paper that it is just as interesting without anything written on it at all. Interestingly enough, the two on the right are both paper towels! So sometimes paper’s use is what we make of it, regardless of its intended use. Clearly simple paper is of far greater use and interest than we might credit it at first glance.

Exploration #37: Time Observation

As soon as I saw this exploration idea, my eyes lit up; for I realize full well that time is the most valuable currency in our possession. God grants each of us his or her own allotment of time, be it great or small, and no monumental effort or courageous act can grant one of us another second. The only variation between people in this regard is how well we choose to spend it.

It seemed appropriate to me to find some ways of documenting the passage of time and bring to one’s mind the unsettling fact that even now we are hurtling towards the grave with the rapidity of a fast-accelerating sports vehicle. By the end of the exercise, I had come up with ten ways of tracking the passage of time from my seat at my desk in my dormitory, many of which I am certain I use unconsciously on a daily basis. They are:

1. Examine the decay of the rose head on my desk.

2. Watch the sunlight move across my floor as it travels along its path through sky.

3. Listen for when people go to meals.

4. Listen to people’s greetings (good morning, good night, etc.).

5. Feel the gesso on my canvas drying (I was working on a painting when I did this exercise).

6. Smell my body odor grow progressively more powerful (it’s gross, but true).

7. Feel my hunger/thirst increase.

8. Taste my gum become less flavorful as I chew it.

9. Watch my face grow more haggard as the night wears on.

10. Feel my eyes grow sore after weeping for a time.

These exercises are not necessarily pleasant or easy. It might be more convenient to examine a clock and watch the seconds pass by. The problem with staring at a clock, however, is that it doesn’t capture the reality of that feeling when you begin and end a day and wonder where the time went. I can use these methods in the act of going about my daily routine. A remarkable, remarkable lesson to be sure!

Awakening

I was awakened from my sumptuous midterm break by the continuation of Alfred Foundations 1 this semester. Now that B Block has arrived, I hereby submit this blog as requested by my professors. Hopefully it shall be as great a source of enlightenment to other students as it shall be to me.

Nathan Wood - October 20, 2011.