Posts Tagged ‘Lowe’

Light Observation 4

1) Feb 12, ~2:20 PM; Lowe 106

2) Light coming through window blinds

3) Before our movement class, a few friends and I were running around and warming up in the space. It was very cold, but we knew that we would be warm soon after we began our class so we chose not to turn on the heat. The light that was laying diagonally on the studio floor was warmer than the rest of the floor, so I chose to stand there to warm up my toes. I looked down at my foot and the lines that were created from the light that missed the blinds were rounded up on my foot. It felt jarring and almost gross to look at my foot this way– to see the curves and skeleton of my foot. It was jarring because the light moved along my foot but I did not feel anything– like a ghost sensation. I felt the need to move my feet so that the lighting could lay flat on the ground, but I also felt intrigued by the sort of character I had created with the shape of my foot.

Lighting Moment

1)2/28/14 1:15 AM Outside Emily Lowe

2) Two custodians stand around the corner of Emily Lowe near the parking lot.

3) Though leaving Lowe late at night is not a new experience for me, I rarely encounter other people. I was startled to see two large men standing just behind the corner of Emily Lowe. Their features were obscured in shadow and most of their bodies reduced to hulking masses. The streetlight in the distance lit them from behind, amber light against blackness. Their cigarettes glowed briefly, illuminating their faces only briefly.

Lighting Moment #3

1. 2/12/14, 12pm, Outside Emily Lowe

2. Stepping outside from interior lighting into broad daylight

3. ¬†Having been inside for the better part of four hours, my eyes were well adjusted to the fluorescent lighting of Emily Lowe’s all too familiar hallways and classrooms. However, I was unprepared for the blinding light that was waiting for me outside. I stepped into the blustery air, and was met by brilliant sunlight filling every corner of my vision, reflecting off of the snow and awakening my eyes to the world around me.

Light Observation 10

1) 4/8/13 11:30 A.M. Outside Emily Lowe

2) The bright sun on the first nice spring day.

3) For the first time since my time being here I saw people on the quad outside Lowe. There were people everywhere. For the first time I didn’t feel like the campus was full of individual students. Instead it was a group of kids together in a single community. We were all celebrating the glorius spring sun after a cold and windy past few weeks. My friends were doing acrobatics, laughing talking, just spending time together, and I loved every second of it, all because of the sun we hadn’t seen in a while.

Light Observation #8

1) 3/19/13, 4:30pm, Girls’ Bathroom on the second floor of Lowe.

2) The sun in the West was shining through the frosted glass window in the bathroom.

3) The sun shining through the frosted glass made the world feel bright and sunny, like summer, and I was immediately happy. Well, briefly happy. I quickly remembered that this was a dirty lie, as I had just run through the cold, biting air to take refuge in the studio. It seemed a strange phenomenon that this frosted glass could disperse the colder, starker, should-not-be-wintery-but-is sunlight and make it seem so warm, inviting, and beautiful. I stood in the path of the light for a minute, until I realized how ridiculous I looked, and came to the conclusion that the studio should just be made up of entirely frosted glass windows.

Light Observation!

8 February, 2012
South Campus, outside Lowe
Around  7:30 pm

I’m walking north just before the ramp to Lowe. Gold light of the mid-setting sun covers the south side of one of the trees outside the building.

I’ve come to realize that I spend a lot of time looking at, speaking and thinking about trees – and I think I’m okay with that. The settings changed drastically for me when I moved coasts for school, and one of the most noticeable differences (besides the flatness of Long Island) was the trees. There aren’t nearly as many evergreens here as there are at home, just as there aren’t many non-evergreens at home like there are here. So naturally, I notice trees quite a bit. This particular instance really struck me because it was in the middle of the sunset, which is something I typically associate with the beach, if only because of how many I witnessed on the Puget Sound. What hit me most was the pure gold of the sunlight, and how that was visible even in the murky brown of the bark. It was also pretty contrasting, as the natural grooves and pockets in the bark were cast in shadows, giving them even more dimension with dark on one side and gold on the other. The tree was tall and scraggly and devoid of leaves, which in my mind collided with the gold of the sunset in a way that spring and winter really don’t. There’s usually more of a natural fade from one to the other – maybe with some freak snow storms every so often – but seeing these two examples of seasons so drastically converge startled me to an extent. You never really think of the seasons as being separate, rather cyclical, but at their heights they can be severely different.

Lighting Observation 1 (Week 3)

Wednesday February 16th, 11:00 Outside Lowe Hall (cigarette pit)

2) The light is very orange. It is relatively dim. There is a dark shadow blocking out most of what is visible, and some light spilling on to the side of the building from a window right outside. The light from the window is bright white. There is very little visibility.

3) The light is foreboding and creepy. The orange seems other worldy, and the butts of cigarettes scattered on the dirt are only illuminated enough that they can be seen and not distinguished. The light spilling out the open window is cut off by the dark shadow cast by the railing and by the side of the ramp. It looks like jumping down, even though it is a small drop, would be very unpleasant.