"I don't see why everyone is so afraid of this" Part II.

      My friend Rob (seen in Bored with a camera) called me up the other day. He explained to me that he had seen my post "I don't see why everyone is so afraid of this" and told me about how he and half of the people from his dorm went outside in a rainstorm down in PA, and he thought of me. I was delighted. Little did I know, however, that I would have my own experience similar to his, only magnified by a MILLION.

      Rochester had yet another torrential downpour, and since it was so much warmer than the last time, I ended up frolicking in the buckets of rain pouring from the sky with half of my dorm building. I thought of Rob (I plan on calling him later today to tell him). When most of my friends decided to go back inside, I wanted to stay out and play some more. There was a hill next to the dorms which proved to be an amazing mud-style slip-n-slide. Eventually I and the group of strangers around me were covered head-to-toe in mud. When a public safety officer told us to cut it out, we simply migrated to another mud source: a knee-deep "puddle" next to the dining hall (I can't say I've ever been swimming in a mud puddle before this, and I will gladly do it again). After the puddle, we walked across campus to another rumored source under a bridge. We attracted a few spectators, but soon we realized that we preferred to slide down muddy hills. We went back to the slip-n-slide despite our warning and had an amazing time. After that, we decided it would be a fantastic idea to walk around campus asking people for "free hugs" since it made so much sense to spread the muddy love (and the shirt I wore that day said "FREE HUGS", how perfect!). Needless to say, people were rather apprehensive about a couple of muddy people racing to embrace them, but I did get about four willing and two unwilling participants.

     At the end of the day, we were absolutely coated in delicious dirt, sticks, grass, and who knows what else. We parted out ways at sunset to shower and continue our lives, now forever connected by a puddle.

I love college. I love life. I love mud.

Little Squishy Snail.

The littlest things are what really make me happy... like... playing with a snail. Everyone else was grossed out by your icky little trail of slime, but not me. I poked your face and you squirmed until you looked decapitated. I talked to you like I talk to my sea monkeys, with delight and weird noises. I let you leave your goo all over my hand and arm, and then I took pictures with you because you make me happy, little squishy snail. I love you for who you are, and you loved me too.

Dirty & Clean.

      I had an assignment in my photo arts class to create two portraits: one "dirty" and one "clean". While a few of my classmates took it to a more sexual and moral level, I decided to keep my subject matter literal. It took me a lot of time and thinking to decide what I wanted to do to portray my models as "dirty" and "clean". While traipsing about the grocery store in my hometown, I decided that using food would make for interesting portraits. But what food to use...?
     Before I had decided on the props to use, I already had a friend volunteer to model. I used him for the "dirty" portrait. I was surprised that he was willing to model for me before he even knew what I was going to do to him... and that's probably a good thing.

Uhm. Yeah. I'd say this is pretty dirty.

   Well, I guess I'll just let the photos speak for themselves. I hope you like them as much as I do! I'm actually thinking about submitting my "clean" portrait into RIT's honors show. Let me know what you think.

Refreshing, right?!

 

"I don't see why everyone is so afraid of this."

      Last night, there was an intense thunderstorm. The lightning was insanely bright and the thunder was absolutely piercing. The patter of the rain pounding the pavement outside was so calming and exhilarating at the same time. I accompanied two of my friends on their laundry run, but once we stepped out the door (my good friends will understand this next part) I demanded that my friend hold my cellphone and I darted out into the heavy downpour in my fuzzy slippers and no jacket. I tilted my head back and squealed with delight. There were a few guys standing out there already with raincoats on, hoods up and umbrellas deployed. Across the quad, one whistled at me and another called me crazy. I didn't care. I was in bliss. It was freezing, but it was amazing.

       I spun in circles letting the near-frozen drops pelt my face when a young man appeared from the dark wind tunnel. His body language hinted that he knew me, but I had never seen him before. I soon realized that he was a complete stranger just happy to see someone as excited about the rain as he.

      "I don't see why everyone is so afraid of this," he said as he nearly walked past me, but backed up a step, watching another lightning bolt stream across the orange sky.

      "Me neither; it's so beautiful!" I exclaimed, watching with him.

      We stood there not saying a word, just taking in all that the storm was giving to us, complete strangers united by one enormous surrounding factor. He laughed as he realized that I was out there in my fuzzy cheetah-print slippers, kicking at the three-inch-deep puddle in which we were standing. I explained how excited I was to see such a wonderful storm, and I wasn't planning on coming outside, but I couldn't help myself when I got to the door. He seemed to share in my impromptu joy with a smile. He began to depart, but stopped himself. "Aw, what the heck?" he said and opened his arms taking another step toward me. I accepted his damp embrace, and he jogged off into the dark abyss from which he once emerged.

      I love strangers. I always have and I always will.

 

I was super-excited to be drenched in rain. I absolutely love the rain.

The storm was so bad that the tunnels flooded. Cool, right?

                                                                      

I'm not too fond of my combination lock.

I don't think it's too keen on me either.
Just once I wish it would open within the first 13 tries.

If only she knew . . .

      To keep my mom with me wherever I go, I like to wear a necklace that reminds me of her. I'll wear one she gave me, a locket with her picture in it, or the cross pendant her best friend gave me before the viewing.

      Today, I ventured alone to Gracie's dining hall at RIT. The lady who swiped my ID kindly commented on my necklace. I thanked her and said that my mom bought it for me because it matched my eyes. She looked at me and said "Wow, that's so meaningful!" 

What she'll never know is how meaningful it really is....

Thinking of you. ♥

      I'm not one to doodle hearts all willy-nilly. The only exception in the past year was when I had a strong relationship with my boyfriend at the time. After we broke up, I quit the hearts and doodled random swirls, which were more normal for me. However, after my mom died, I found myself sitting in lectures thinking about her and drawing my tattoo -- "xxoo♥♥" -- over and over again. The more I drew it, the more I just started to draw simple little hearts with her in mind. Now, I find myself picking up a pen no matter where I am or what my surroundings are, and I think of her.

Brandon says "some".

      I took my friend Brandon (notorious for his "detergent oopsie") to the studios for a few hours of creative entertainment. Having a better knowledge of the studio strobes, I was able to fabricate better set-ups than ever. We had a lot of fun, and we plan on going back again soon!

>>> Facebooking <<<

Environmental portrait.

This is my first attempt at on-location strobe-lit portraiture.
It was a pain in the butt, but I do like it.
A friend took one look at it and muttered "Photoshopped." I assured him that it was indeed all fancy lighting, while beaming with pride myself.

oops.

      I was just about to step in the shower when the stupid fire alarm started blaring. I pulled on my pants and scurried outside into the cold. About a half-hour later, I returned the bathroom only to realize that I left the shower on the hottest setting. My bad.

Spring is here. Fo' real.

      I've come to realize during my time here at RIT that my photos look so much better (at least to me) when I am thrown into an environment, rather than when I have to create my own set. I had to fabricate some environmental portraits for an assignment, and I found it to be very frustrating and not entirely too much fun. However, later in the day, the RIT community began taking advantage of the gorgeous weather and emerged to play four-square, longboard, run around and just hang out. Music systems were brought outside, and fire throwing skills were displayed (until campus security showed up). I had my camera and a fancy lens I borrowed from the school. I melted into my surroundings, I laid on the ground, I climbed onto concrete walls and structures, I knelt in dirt, I ran around, and I got amazing results. After this experience, I had an epiphany: I am meant to be a photojournalist. I mean, I already knew that, but this absolutely confirmed it. I knew for years that I was meant to have a camera in my clutch, but now I know that I am meant to be submerged into the world and its antics, unaltered, completely random, and beautiful. Here are some of my favorite photos from this deciding moment in my life. I'll post the Facebook link below.

>> CHYEAHH <<

Jamal.

My friend Jamal asked me to take some pictures for him for Facebook and whatnot. Since it was such a beautiful day, we decided to shoot outside. I borrowed a fancy lens from RIT and we ventured out to the roof of  the photo building. We took photo after photo until the sky started to fade to orange and yellow, and then we took advantage of the sunset and got some amazingly warm-toned pictures. Here are a few of our favorites; I'll put the link for the rest of them below!

PS: Jamal made the pretty heart design. ♥

>>> Like I promised. <<<

A fortress and a face.

Mark (top) amused himself by victimizing Cole. 
I was promptly summoned to document the defeat.

Ryan's creativity is never hard to find.

This apple looked uncomfortable.

... So I put it out of its misery.
Delish.