The calm aura of this photo because of the pastel colors of the sky says “happy” to me. When I see this picture, i think of the people living in the beautiful houses, washed in a low, placid sunlight at the start of the day. The balance of domicile life and natural beauty seems peaceful and gives a feeling of contentment.
1) 2/24/14, 7 pm-ish
2) Lights in the top floor windows of Enterprise
3) I don’t know if anyone else has noticed this, but the towers on the residential side of campus all have faces. At the top of each tower, the way the windows are positioned on the uppermost floor and the floor just beneath it make the buildings look like they have two eyes and a mouth. I don’t really know how to describe this. Picture two narrow rectangles for eyes and a wider rectangle (one bigger window beneath the other two) as the mouth.
Every time I’m walking back from the gym and those lights are on, the residential buildings turn into a colony of giants with stoic faces. Normally it’s Enterprise that catches my attention. The geometric features of its face (rectangle mouth with clenched window pane teeth) don’t lend themselves to a smile or a frown. The giant just looks like its face hurts, as if it accidentally injected itself with too much botox and is stuck. Or it’s just sick of bracing against the cold winter wind. If it could speak it would probably say “HNNNNN!”
When the lights are off, the botox-infused, winter hating giant is sleeping, I’d guess. I think these giants are nocturnal, because next to sunlight, it’s hard to tell whether those lights are on or off, and it looks like they’re asleep. Against the black night, the eyes and mouth of the stone guardians stand out because they’re so full of light. That is when they’re awake. I feel camaraderie with these buildings. They’re night owls, like me.
1) 2/26 , 11:30pm, Outside Hofstra USA
2) Moonlight reflected on ice on ground.
3) I was walking home from a late night in the studio when I looked up in the sky and noticed a bright white moon shining down and lighting the path ahead of me. However, the most remarkable part of the walk was that every time I walked by a pool of ice, it would reflect up the light from the moon. Near Hofstra USA there was one particular patch of ice that was really big. When I walked by it, the entire thing illuminated in a shiny white light. We’re not used to seeing light coming up from the ground below us, and it was like I was standing on a sea of light.
Photo taken by Peter Charney
DESCRIPTION: This is a photography of lanterns that lined the beach during a wedding I photographed a few years ago. However, I try to separate the idea of the picture representing a wedding, from the feeling that the image evokes on its own. To me, the combination of the cool colors of the lanterns against the warmer color of sand is incredibly peaceful and balanced. There is a sense of stillness and serenity, which translates to happiness in my eyes. The pattern of colors shows order and is very relaxing to look at. The colors themselves, are beautifully saturated and pleasant to look at. This photo definitely says “happy” to me!
1) Feb 24, ~7:00 PM; my room
2) My lamp reflected on my wall
3) Both my lighting observations are in my room this week, but what can I say? It’s all I’ve seen since I’ve been sick. It was dark and I had turned on all of my artificial lights in my room (not the overhead lights because I, too, hate fluorescent light). I was on my bed reading when I noticed that, interestingly, my floor lamp made an interesting image of itself in a pseudo-reflection on the wall. The lamp has a gray base with five white shades. The light from bulbs was bright against the wall, and their light causes the base to cast a shadow against the wall. The colors of the light and the shadow match that of the actual object, and so mimic a reflection. I had to get out of my bed and observe the wall to see if it was actually reflective (it’s not)– it was an interesting optical illusion!
1) Feb 26, ~2:00 AM; my room
2) My roommate’s and my pink Christmas lights.
3) I woke in a daze when my roommate returned to our room in the middle of the night. I was very confused and don’t remember why I got out of bed, but I do remember seeing the room entirely in pink light. My roommate and I both have pink Christmas lights strung across our room so that one can sleep while the other can see. I remember that everything was pink–my roommate’s face and clothes were both pink. In addition, we have a lot of pink objects in our room that popped and were enhanced from the entirely pink light. We have two large rugs on our floor that are deep pink. It was disorienting; in my sleepy daze I wasn’t sure which way was up. The lack of differentiation between the floor, walls, and ceiling did not help.
One of my happiest memories took place on the morning after a sleepover at my grandparents’ house when I was very young. My two cousins and I slept on an old foam mattress that converted into a couch. We slept huddled together with a fuzzy peach blanket. Some time in the early morning, I woke up while everyone was asleep. I looked above the TV at a window covered in a thin sheer curtain, and I could tell by the soft blue light coming in the window that it was morning. I was filled with energy and life, but there was also a quiet, slow, gentleness in the moment that I think this picture captures well. The room is dark and easy on the eyes, but the window lets through a soft notice that the day has begun and there is potential for adventure.
I don’t typically think of the ocean as a happy place. The beach? Sure. But the ocean itself is a habitat of mystery and fear. It’s not somewhere human beings belong. If it weren’t for the way the light accents the image, I think this would evoke a darker emotion. But it makes me happy.The thought of gliding along the sea floor and looking up at the surface brings bliss. The main burst of sunlight and all the little pockets of light in the sand and sun ripples create a sense of wonder and make me feel at home under the water, almost as if I could enter this environment and still breathe. It reminds me of films set underwater, where we can live through a mermaid or a clown fish or a blue tang without giving thought to the fact that if we were actually there, we’d drown. The light welcomes me in.
Photo taken by myself
Seeing beams of sunlight always makes me happy. Moments like when you see a beam of light coming through a break in the clouds feel heavenly to me. All of the warm feelings that are associated with sunlight are enhanced by the visual of beams of light. The moment in this photo is a happy moment; a couple on a nice walk with their dogs. The beams of sunlight, the highlights on their figures and the red/warm lens flare amplify the happiness of the moment. The light says happy.
2/19/15, 6pm — some hole-in-the-wall store in the Garment District
I might have been in the fourth dimension last Thursday night. Michael and I had gone into the city to see a show, but before the show, he had to pick up some fabric for a dress he was making. It was seven degrees outside and we were getting around only by foot, so we chose the first fabric store we found in the Garment District.
There were tens of thousands of rolls of fabric — few of them looked new and clean. Most were old and dusty. The dust from these fabric rolls, combined with the fluorescent lighting, cast a strange white haze over the whole store. It was reminiscent of the lighting used for a Heaven scene in some comedy movie. And then there were the many, many colors from the fabrics on the shelves. More colors than on Joseph’s Dreamcoat. In warmer incandescent lighting, these colors would have been a welcoming rainbow of sorts. In this lighting, they were ultra-tacky and ultra-wacky. As I wandered the shop with a Penn Station beer in one hand and our tickets to the show in the other, passing by rolls of plush faux fur and of hideous shag carpeting, I wondered if I had entered the Twilight Zone.