From my position on my back in the corner of the classroom, I took in Lawton Hall’s presentation with a sense of appreciation. He is one of the few people I have met to have not only stayed in Wisconsin post Lawrence, but to also advocate staying here. I think he understands that this to do exciting and creative things here, one needs to take initiative; take the first step in creating what you want to see instead of waiting for chance to fly your way, like it might in a more populous area. I enjoyed this particularly because Wisconsin – Appleton especially – is an easy target for bashing amongst Lawrence kids. It seems like a universal conversation starter amongst the student body; whether it be a go-to if the conversation takes a turn for the dull, or a scapegoat if the clusterfuck of anxieties in ones life manifests itself as an aversion to Appleton. Either way, Appleton - and its offerings - are stepped on casually, liberally and happily. Beyond that, it gave me hope to see such a young alumni having the success he is so soon out of Lawrence. I though it was quite funny when I realized that many of his friends (those in ‘Holy Sheboygan’), were in fact my friends as well (Julia, Cameron and Cary). It made me start thinking of the projects I could do with the talent close to my life; with the friends around me now.

After several plans falling through and many shifts in topic, I decided to finally settle on representing the ritualistic act of walking to my mother’s house from my dormitory at Lawrence. As a 'townie', the divide between my hometown and my college experience has always been a thin one. I see there being advantages and disadvantages in this – namely showering in a place that doesn’t make me feel like I need flip-flops (and seeing my mother, of course).

The route that I take back to my home has been one that I've taken since attending Edison Elementary. It is ingrained in my memory and has become representative of the transition back to the familiarity of my childhood home. Feelings of warmth and nostalgia become stronger with every step I take. The walk itself is often times a blur. I have taken that exact route so many times that no trip stands out in particular. Especially today, the trip home delves my mind deep into a meditative state – as corny as it sounds – as I subconsciously prepare for the shifting of worlds, from the social world of college to the domestic world of my childhood home. I count my steps, notice minuscule changes in the scenery around me and enjoy the change in the seasons as they come. The walk goes from a task that needs to be dealt with, to a welcome respite from the menial chores of the day. In this sense, the walk from ‘home to home’ transcends the mundane, instead acting as a necessary, medicinal aspect of my day-to-day existence.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Yve9mZyknM 

Project no. 1 thoughts:

I recently put some time into thinking about the raw, honest wonder of children reacting to the world around them. In the process of growing up, there is no incentive to hold onto this simple fascination as societal pressures, worldly things and the passing of time begin to numb us into a sense of unquestioned monotony. I hope to capture this fleeting feeling using video of interaction of a friend of mine and his young daughter, whose curiosity about the world continually reminds me to appreciate small things.

silience

n. the kind of unnoticed excellence that carries on around you every day, unremarkably—the hidden talents of friends and coworkers, the fleeting solos of subway buskers, the slapdash eloquence of anonymous users, the unseen portfolios of aspiring artists—which would be renowned as masterpieces if only they’d been appraised by the cartel of popular taste, who assume that brilliance is a rare and precious quality, accidentally overlooking buried jewels that may not be flawless but are still somehow perfect.