For the final project for this class, I plan on writing about the crossroads between art and medicine. So much of my life has revolved around learning some form of art. As a child, I grew up with a strong appreciation for music, a form of “sound art” as well as a penchant for building various gadgets and toys, which I consider a form of visual/3D art.
Two zodiac animals that are among the minority in our class are the Rat and the Monkey. According to the Chinese zodiac, the Rat was awarded first place in the zodiac ranking due to its quick wit. Setting off very early to give itself maximum time to prepare for the race, the Rat was stopped by a river.
As someone born on January 2nd, 2001, but before the start of the lunar cycle of the Snake which usually begins in February, my zodiac sign is usually characterized as a Dragon. I’ve also been told that my zodiac sign is more along the lines of a snake with the tail of a dragon, which I thought was interesting. To look into this, I researched both the Dragon and Snake zodiac signs via the Hox Zodiac page.
As a musician, I have experienced firsthand how sound affects our lives. From a young age, I’ve been very much in touch with the sounds around me. I grew up learning the piano and violin, and I studied not just what sound was at its core, but also how it made us feel and what it made us imagine via the art of music performance.
For this week's in-class activity, I drew a map representing the major ideas that we had learned this quarter so far. We started off with learning about the unique social and cultural makeup of pencils and even exploring its molecular composition and how this molecular identity could be interpreted and applied to various different things. This led us to our section on Quantum Space, which talked about the uncertainty and serendipity of various aspects of life and experiences, which stressed the idea of interpretation as well as broadening our horizons with free exploration.
Standing with both feet planted on my backyard patio, I breathed in the fresh air and began listening to the audio provided by our professors, trying to calm myself into a meditative state. As I wiggled my toes in my shoes, I could feel the soil pushing up on my feet, a subtle reminder that we were built and supported from the ground up (pun intended).
I approached this project from the perspective of someone who had very little experience with baking in general—I had only baked a cake in the past, which was much more akin to taking a relaxed step back and mixing chemicals in a beaker. Rather gullibly, I thought that making bread would be the same kind of experience. How hard could it be? I wondered.
I was a little uncertain how to approach this assignment at first, wondering how I could somehow discover something so surprising and eye-catching without being intentional in any way whatsoever. This was made especially daunting as my family had been isolating for the majority of the pandemic, and thus I was limited to the reaches of my own backyard to uncover objects that I had supposedly not seen or experienced before.
I was immediately drawn to this lecture because of my preference to use traditional wooden pencils in my day-to-day life compared to the more mainstream ways of writing such as ballpoint pens and mechanical pencils. I find they are so efficient and agile, and have their own sort of quirky elegance that is absent in their plastic-encased modern counterparts. However, today's lecture really made me consider avenues beyond what I could hold and see normally as I had done for so long.