1. April 30th, 2:15 pm, Calkins Hall
2. It is raining outside and it is very cloudy and grey out.
3. As I stand at the door of Calkins hall beneath the overhang, I mentally prepare myself for going into the rain. The grey clouds hang low in the sky unleashing their burdens on Hofstra’s campus. Everything is a bleak and dreary and it’s difficult to motivate myself to step out into the rain.
1) 4/30/14 8:59 waiting for class to begin.
2) The light against the water droplets on the window in class.
3) The barely visible light coming from the clouds just barely made it into the room, shining through the window, but not before hitting the droplets of water on the window. It was really cool to see each individual droplet shining differently. I noticed how the light gave the droplets dimension and made it easier to see the form of each individual droplet.
1. Sunday, April 20, 8pm – Jamaica Air Train
2. I was coming back to Hofstra from Buffalo (taking the Air Train to Jamaica Station so I could get back) and the sun was on its last leg of setting.
3. As I was exhaustedly leaning against the pole of the Air Train, I turned to look out of the windows as we left the Airport towards the train station. The sky was dark with the oncoming night, but there was a thin strip of bright orange light softened by softer fading red light. It was altogether a small line across the horizon. It was almost sad – light the sunlight was doing anything it could to hold on just a little bit longer before succumbing completely to the night.
1) 4/20/14 2:00pm @ My Grandmother’s House
2) The fluorescent color of the ceiling light being affected by the fan just below it.
3) I always thought that it was strange the way the lights in the ceiling were directly over the ceiling fan as if the fan was an afterthought. I finally realized why they usually but the lights as part of the fan, below the propellers when I felt myself getting annoyed by the constant shadows of the fans propellers passing the light and creating an almost rhythmic appearance of a shadow. At first I was very excited about this lighting moment but found it to get extremely annoying after a few minutes.
1. Colonial Square middle gate, Saturday, April 19, 10:00 PM
2. Light from the flood lights on the building is hitting a blossoming tree outside of my dorm.
3. Earlier that day I had noted how lovely the sunlight looked filtering through the pink blossoms. Now it was much later at night, and the scene was completely different. The sky was a deep blue/black and amber/orange light from the floodlights on the building filtered through the branches instead. The tree itself looked menacing, and the blossoms were no longer the pink blush but instead a sickly and dim orange. It was a completely different scene that was chilling and beautiful at the same time.
1. April 8th, 4:30pm
2. I was walking home from physics and it was sunny. I actually had to squint.
3. I don’t know if the light was so beautiful because it feels like forever since there has been direct sunlight, or if it was because I was out of physics class, or if the sun was really just that lovely. It was euphoric. Everything about my surroundings emanated joy. The sun was bright and yellow- enough to make you squint but not quite bright enough that you needed sunglasses. It was the perfect light. Everything was clear and looked just that much happier basking in the glow of the miracle that is the world.
1) 4/7/14 8:50
2) The sunlight coming in from the window in the classroom.
3) The light that shined from the window hit the panes just right to create a perfect gobo-like paneling on the wall. It looked like the type of gobo that I might use for deathtrap in order to reflect what’s going on outside. It would be perfect for indicating the moon while in the room.
1. Saturday, April 29, around 2pm
2. It was raining all day so the light outside was very overcast and grey.
3. I just happened to look outside my window because I’d noticed the light in my room hadn’t changed all day, and it was like time stopped. If I hadn’t looked at the clock, it could’ve been any time of day outside. The rain was falling and everything was just… there. It was overcast, so there was light from the sun, but the sun was nowhere to be found and all of the golden hue that’s usually present from its rays were gone, replaced by a flat grey light. It was an odd sensation, this feeling of timelessness, and even beauty. Even though it wasn’t the typical wonderful sunny afternoon, this sort of gloom didn’t feel at all gloomy. It felt more like a murky peace, or like that place between sleep and awake.
1. April 1, 2014 12:45 PM Outside Roosevelt Hall
2. Light filtering through branches onto cobblestone plaza
3. The intertwining patterns created from the tree hanging above me were mesmerizing as the wind softly shook the branches. The sun shone brightly, making a stark difference between the the distinct pattern of bare limbs with budding leaves and the hot sun that promised spring was on the way.
1. Sunday, March 23, Emily Lowe room 11o, approximately 7:15
2. Light from the setting sun hitting the top of the playhouse
3. After being fully engrossed in my draftings, I took a moment to gaze out the window. At that precise moment, the setting sun hit the playhouse in such a way that the building turned pink. The darkening blue provided a stark difference between the two colors.