Learning to See
I have always been
taught to value the little things.
When I was younger, my dad and I used to collect interestingly-shaped
rocks. And like my grandfather,
who always comments on the Ònice contrast of colorÓ between the foods he eats,
I also enjoy noting the details in the smallest things that are often
overlooked. For the first thirteen years of my life, I spent an incredible
amount of time looking at only details.
It wasnÕt until the seventh grade, when I got glasses to correct my nearsightedness,
that I could finally see a wider scope of things. I remember being amazed at my ability to distinguish between
the individual leaves on trees, to see peopleÕs facial expressions from across
the room. At night I could
actually see the stars as distinct points of light rather than foggy
blurs. However, I continue to find
importance in my attention to little things, looking at them close up. While Hopkins had to learn Òto Ôlook
close,ÕÓ to see Òmany aspects of nature he had been blind to before,Ó [1]
I have always looked at the world through the same eyes, in the same way; this
attention to detail leads me towards the desire to create in a variety of
mediums, from traditional art to design and print media.
This
desire to create has been spawned by my perception of the world around me. My
vision—the way I see the world—makes up a great part of who I am.
From an early age, I have been involved in artistic endeavors. I was always
busy drawing pictures while watching cartoons or sketching trees in the
backyard. Also, the way I think and solve problems is always visual; I find my
self Òimaging: seeing an imaginary picture with [my] mindÕs eye.Ó [2]
I have grown up with artistic grandparents and remember almost every trip to
their house involving some sort of project, from decorating Easter eggs to
doing my first oil paintings. My grandmother first explained the concept of
right brain thinking to me, where Òthe right hemisphere, or Design mind,
constantly thinks in complex images;
it
patterns to make designs of whatever it encounters, including language,Ó [3]
and she loved to get me involved in anything artistic. I was constantly exposed
to art through visiting museums and spending time in my grandmotherÕs studio.
Through
these experiences and my innate attention
to detail, I saw the world as a limitless series of artistic visions. Even at
home, my father is constantly creating; he is often in his workshop building
sculptures, furniture, and light fixtures. Growing up as part of this creative
family has shaped the person I have and will become.
During
the beginning stages of my creativity as an elementary school artist, I
remember being asked by my classmates ÒHow do you draw like that?Ó and I would
answer, ÒI just draw what I see.Ó Drawing realistically from observation has
always made
sense
to me and is something I have done since a very young age. According to Drawing
on the Right Side of the Brain, ÒThe right
brainÉseems to regard the thing as-it-is, at the present moment of the present;
seeing things for what they simply are, in all their awesome, fascinating
complexity.Ó [4] As a
Sensing/Feeling person (according to the Myers/Briggs test), I Òlike to explain
theory in concrete terms—audio visuals,Ó and am Òpresent oriented.Ó [5]
This defines the way I approach problems, both in my learning style and the way
I go about creating. Perceiving the world with all its minute details defines
the way I see, the way I create.

It
wasnÕt until high school that I found myself being pushed creatively, having to
further shape my personal vision. I became involved with Yearbook, Photography,
and Art classes inside and outside of school. Two of my best friends since
middle school, Kate and Veronica, were always in Art with me. As we approached
our senior year, and inevitably, the senior Art show, we began to worry: could
we really do this? Were we satisfied with our work? In the senior show, we had to display ten to fifteen
projects, compose an artist statement and concentration, and give a lecture
about individual pieces and our journeys as artists to a seemingly humongous
audience. We were stressed about
having enough impressive pieces to show the entire school and started working
like crazy. Together, we began taking classes from my grandmotherÕs Òart
friendÓ Liz. What started as a month-long oil painting class became a large
part of our lives. We continued the lessons through the school year, meeting in
LizÕs upstairs studio every Saturday—a place where we could brainstorm,
expand our portfolios, and work on our concentrations.
My
concentration, or theme for my work, centered around growth, specifically the
growth from adolescence to adulthood. As I Òsuddenly grew older,Ó [6]
I found most of my work reflected the struggle of saying goodbye to my
childhood. Liz helped me improve my vision—she taught me how to look at
the world from an artistÕs point of view, how to see
both the big picture and the seemingly
insignificant details.
Sharing
this growing experience with Kate and Veronica taught us to inspire each other,
taught us to push ourselves. Our lessons with Liz evolved to be more than a
time for art; Liz constantly reminded us of how special our friendship was, how
we must keep in touch and never let our
unique bond disappear. While I was learning to solidify my friendships, I also
learned how to work creatively with others, to Òbounce ideasÓ off of my peers,
to become stimulated by being with people.
While involved
with traditional art—painting, drawing, and photography—I also
became increasingly passionate about Yearbook in high school. The combination
of writing, design, color, and photography excited me. Senior year, as editor,
I was thrilled with the challenge to transform our book. After attending the
Columbia Scholastic Press conference in New York City my junior year, I became
dedicated to creating the best possible book. After seeing so many incredible
layouts and spending time with creative individuals, I realized how much better
our book could be—I wanted to take it to the next level, to push the
boundaries creatively. As we looked at slides of magazine layouts at one of our
classes at Columbia University, I developed an interest in the design and layout.
Afterwards, each time I picked up a magazine, I wasn't just reading, I wasn't
just looking at the pictures, I was picking apart the layout, looking at the
fonts, brainstorming about what I could apply to our
book.
I will never be able to simply "flip through" a magazine again. My
experience at Columbia changed the way I look at publications and gave me a
desire to learn about and become involved with them for the rest of my life.
My goal is to
continue to create, to tell and expand my story as I follow the road towards
self-discovery. My experiences in high school,
especially in Art and Yearbook, pushed me towards discovering what I want to do
with my life. I want to be involved in publications because it is a way that I
can combine all of my strengths—writing, art, organization, and computer
graphics. This form of creativity Ò[focuses] on communication between
the left and right sides of the brain,Ó [7]
a communication I hope to master as I learn and grow.
Finding unity
within myself, my goals, and my past shapes how I communicate with the world,
and additionally, how I can find meaning in all I do. Through the process of
making art, whether in a painting, photograph, or layout, I have found even the
smallest part of the process contributes to the work as a whole. According to Silverman, ÒTaken all
togetherÉthe various components of a painting or a photograph contribute to
the
pieceÕs effect.Ó [8] For this
reason, even the details have great importance; though they cannot stand alone,
they are beautiful in their simplicity. Together as a unified piece, these
details tell a story, the story of my journey as an artist and as a human
being.
My journey as a creative individual may not directly
change the world, but I know I want to use my passion to make a difference. I
feel my calling in life is to continue to create, to experience the joy of
making something and sharing it with others on a regular basis. This is the way
in which I strive to communicate with others, to add unity to our slowly
fragmenting world. When I was applying to different colleges and
programs, I never considered being a flat-out Òart major.Ó I have always
enjoyed drawing and painting for myself, but I realized in high school that I
could never devote the rest of my life to being a traditional art student. Silly
as it sounds, I feared that pursuing a fine arts degree would prevent me from gaining
a secure job once I graduated. I also wanted a strong academic background in
which I could learn to create and express myself beyond the art room. Thus, I
found myself applying to Communications schools and wanting to get more
involved with print media—art in which
people can actively participate. According to Silverman, Òart resonates
with us in ways other media donÕt and perhaps canÕtÉwe are visual creatures. We
see millions of things every single day and in so doing rely heavily on our
sight.Ó [9]
I want to impact what people see every day. I hope to achieve this goal through
playing a part in the creation of print media—the magazines, photographs,
advertisements people see regularly, the Òthe collaboration between the
talents
of the two hemispheres, but in their proper sequence and in their proper
interplay.Ó [10] Print media
is important because print media is art. So much effort goes into making it visually
attractive that it is both a science and an art form. This field of study and
work excites me because of the challenges it presents—the challenge to
create, to develop an idea and project it to an audience; to make people stop,
look, and have an experience. As Bump says in Manual Photography: Hopkins,
Ruskin, and Victorian Drawing,
ÒRuskin believed ÔTo be taught to see is to gain world and thought at once.Ó [11]
I hope to someday find meaning in the way I view the world—to discover
myself, to be remembered, to make a difference.
Total Word Count: 1736
-Quotes: 146 words
Word Count: 1590
(10 worlds eliminated)
[1] Bump, Jerome ÒManual Photography: Hopkins, Ruskin, and Victorian Drawing.Ó in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 586-612, p. 608.
[2] ÒDrawing on the Right Side of the Brain,Ó in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 230-237, p. 232.
[3] ÒWriting the Natural WayÓ in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 191-204, p. 192.
[4] ÒDrawing on the Right Side of the BrainÓ in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 230-237, pg 231.
[5] ÒTeaching/Learning StylesÓ in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 132-134, pg 133.
[6] Hardy,
Thomas in Bump. Jude the Obscure. in Composition
and Reading in World Literature, ed. by
Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 648-659, p. 653.
[7] ÒDualism VsÉÓ in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) p. 189.
[8] Silverman, Jonathan in Bump. The World Is a Text. in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 238-248, p. 246.
[9] Silverman,
Jonathan in Bump. The World is Text. in Composition
and Reading in World Literature, ed. by
Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 238-248, p. 246.
[10] ÒWriting the Natural WayÓ in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006) 191-204, p. 193.
[11] Bump, Jerome, ÒManual Photography: Hopkins, Ruskin, and Victorian DrawingÓ in Composition and Reading in World Literature, ed. by Jerome Bump. (Austin: JennÕs, 2006)_-_, p. 609.