Posts Tagged ‘Jacky’

Photo Observation #6

  1. This is a photo by Rick Anderson found at http://www.centralpark.com/guide/activities/picnics.html
  1. HAPPY!
  1. Somewhere in Central Park, a joyful and fun-filled day is coming to a close. The sun is still bright; it soaks the park-goers in a warm glow of friendship, relaxation, and happiness. Both the leaves from the trees and the balloons from the picnic are saturated with the sun’s powerful radiance that creates a map of colors across the grass. Slowly, the light is fading away, but the happiness of the day will linger when it is gone.

Light Observation #5

  1. Walking past Colonial Square looking towards the towers at 6:30 pm on Tuesday, February 28
  2. It was nighttime and there was a great deal of fog, so you couldn’t see the towers at all. You could only see the lampposts and outdoor lighting and the vague glow of windows from lit up rooms in the towers.
  3. In the dark sea of fog, each of the lampposts created an orb of color, some orange, some yellow, some white, some blue. They were a show of strength against the cold mist that clouded over all the buildings and cars, leaving only the faint suggestion that there was life underneath the big, ominous purple sky.

Photo Observation #4

2. This photo came from a storm chaser blog at http://www.harkphoto.com/may251997.html

3. Mysterious

4. Though the sky is dark, the land is submersed in a strange yellow glow. The green of the grass is unnaturally bright: it is screaming for help, but the storm has already taken hold of the sky, taking the sun away and filling its place with darkness. And soon it will wreak havoc on the land as well. Where does the yellow haze come from and how long will it last before everything becomes dark?

Light Observation #4

  1. February 21 at 3:30pm on Oak Bridge in Central Park.
  2. The sun had not yet begun to set, but the sky had gotten a bit darker since midday, and the sky was white and light grayish-blue. The sky shone through the trees and reflected the city skyline onto the ripples of the water in the lake below.
  3. The sky seemed tired as it slowly faded into a melancholy blue and gray. But it still had enough energy to peer through the dark, gnarly and barren trees and to breathe life into ripples of the water below. The city skyline calmly watched itself in the slow, even movement of the lake as blue and gray and purple and brown and white melded together in a dry winter afternoon haze.

Light Observation #3

  1. February 16 at 3:00 in a classroom in the basement of Breslin Hall.
  2. Bright fluorescent ceiling lights were the only source of light in the classroom; there were no windows for natural light.
  3. The artificial blueish white light shone harshly on the sleepy, bored students. In the dark concrete abyss that is that basement of Breslin Hall, the forceful lights made it look and feel like a prison cell—like we were trapped and time was passing slower and slower each minute.

Photo Observation #3

2. This photo came from the blog of Dr. Guy C. Clark, a dentist in Albuquerque. http://clarkdds.com/blog/?p=126

3. Night Life

4. Only a dark and mysterious silhouette of the two owls can be made out in front of a dark, dull gray-blue sky. The flash of the camera reflects a bright red, menacing glare from their eyes, giving a sense of uneasiness to an otherwise tranquil scene and sending chills up one’s spine. The owls stare, unmoving; they aren’t threatened by anyone or anything, because once the sun sets, the woods belong to them.

Light Observation #2

  1. Thursday, February 9 at 12:30pm sitting in my bed in Hague house in the Netherlands Complex.
  2. The lights in my room were off and the blinds on the window were shut, but the bright white light from the snowy scene outside shone through and lit up the room.
  3. I woke up to find that the midday sun was shining brightly, enjoying itself and having fun bouncing around in the newly snow-covered world. Its happiness was contagious as the sun reached through my blinds, saturating my room with a bright white glow. My sleepy eyes adjusted as the vivid colors of my room were illuminated by the cheerfulness of a new day.

Light Observation #1

  1. Tuesday, January 31 at 7:45pm outside Spiegel Theatre, looking at the path leading towards the weird statue.
  2. By this point in the night, it was almost completely dark, so pretty much the only light was coming from the lampposts and reflecting off of the snow that covered the ground.
  3. This moment felt very calm; the darkness was heavy but the soft balls of light provided a sense of hope by illuminating the natural beauty of a fresh coat of snow over the trees and the grass. The light also reflected the slick wet pavement of the pathway through these trees—this told me that though the storm was over, it wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon.