Spring break is just about over, and even though I didn't go anywhere fun or do anything cool, it flew by. Actually, this semester as a whole has flown by. So have the past two years, really. I'm coming up on the half-way mark of my undergrad experience and just the thought of ever having to graduate and become a real person makes me want to scream and cry and throw things. I could probably write about 2385785 blog posts about how much I love this place and all the opportunities it has given me, but I'll spare you all.
In the past two years, I've spent most of my time in two buildings in particular: Hopkins and Hayes Hall. They house most of the art and design facilities, one of the campus wood-shops, ceramics studios, gallery spaces, the photo lab, and countless studio classrooms. They are also the stealers of my collegiate all-nighter-virginity and owners of my soul. I have slept, wept, showered, bled, laughed until I cried, cried until I laughed, and just about everything in between in these buildings. Together, these two buildings have witnessed more of the highs and lows in my life than any other person, place or thing on campus. (An honorable mention also goes to the Sherman Studio Art Center out on west campus, as I have probably shed more tears there in one semester than I had in my entire childhood). Any art major, or even anyone who has taken a basic studio class to fill a GEC knows what I'm talking about when I say that the walls of these two buildings can give you so much life and inspiration one day, and then completely suck it out of you the next.
If you have ever taken a class there, you also know what I mean when I say that every time I leave class I feel like I need to shower. Aside from all of the paint, sawdust, clay or other miscellaneous art materials I get on me in a typical studio class, these two buildings are filthy by nature - even the recently renovated areas of Hopkins are coated in dirt and dust. I once brought a non-art-major-friend to the fourth floor of Hopkins and he compared its aesthetic to that of "an abandoned 1950s middle school". I once brought a non-art-major-friend to the basement of Hopkins where the ceramics department is and she described it as looking like "the set of a Saw movie, but scarier. Can we please go now?"
Aside from the overall grime, however, the buildings are filled with hidden gems of artistic influence that only art students could provide. Of course there is the gallery space in Hopkins and installation showcases throughout, but its the sort of unintentional, "accidental" art that is littered around the floors and graffitied on the walls that intrigues me the most.
In the past two years, I've spent most of my time in two buildings in particular: Hopkins and Hayes Hall. They house most of the art and design facilities, one of the campus wood-shops, ceramics studios, gallery spaces, the photo lab, and countless studio classrooms. They are also the stealers of my collegiate all-nighter-virginity and owners of my soul. I have slept, wept, showered, bled, laughed until I cried, cried until I laughed, and just about everything in between in these buildings. Together, these two buildings have witnessed more of the highs and lows in my life than any other person, place or thing on campus. (An honorable mention also goes to the Sherman Studio Art Center out on west campus, as I have probably shed more tears there in one semester than I had in my entire childhood). Any art major, or even anyone who has taken a basic studio class to fill a GEC knows what I'm talking about when I say that the walls of these two buildings can give you so much life and inspiration one day, and then completely suck it out of you the next.
If you have ever taken a class there, you also know what I mean when I say that every time I leave class I feel like I need to shower. Aside from all of the paint, sawdust, clay or other miscellaneous art materials I get on me in a typical studio class, these two buildings are filthy by nature - even the recently renovated areas of Hopkins are coated in dirt and dust. I once brought a non-art-major-friend to the fourth floor of Hopkins and he compared its aesthetic to that of "an abandoned 1950s middle school". I once brought a non-art-major-friend to the basement of Hopkins where the ceramics department is and she described it as looking like "the set of a Saw movie, but scarier. Can we please go now?"
Aside from the overall grime, however, the buildings are filled with hidden gems of artistic influence that only art students could provide. Of course there is the gallery space in Hopkins and installation showcases throughout, but its the sort of unintentional, "accidental" art that is littered around the floors and graffitied on the walls that intrigues me the most.
I can't help but wonder about some of the stories behind these. Like, what ever could have possibly inspired someone to write "DICK CHENEY SHOULD DO POT IN PRISON" in masking tape on the glass of the life drawing studio window? Most of the time, I've overlooked some really cool drawings on locker doors, or some really weird paragraphs and perspectives scribbled on bathroom stalls. I'm not really sure if any of it was ever intended as "art", or meant to be seen or considered at all, but I think collectively, the walls, floors and doors of these two buildings alone definitely have a lot more character then I tend to give them credit for.
So in my attempt to slow down and take everything in this week, I've been stopping to admire some of the cool, intricate, and...interesting wall art and scribbles around the two buildings I've spent the most time in. I thought I would share with you all some of my favorite findings in these two buildings that I've practically called home for the past two years.
So in my attempt to slow down and take everything in this week, I've been stopping to admire some of the cool, intricate, and...interesting wall art and scribbles around the two buildings I've spent the most time in. I thought I would share with you all some of my favorite findings in these two buildings that I've practically called home for the past two years.
