I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a large bearded man in footy pajamas, a man in a wheelchair, a black musician, and two dogs in sweaters. Regardless of my expectations, I walked into the Rose Common Room and sat down at a table with construction paper and some markers.

Nicholas Carbonaro, the presiding artist, told us that this was an experiment, an experience in being present and noticing things with our senses in the moment. He spoke on the idea that in our current day an age, we notice things only through our screens- while we are walking out in the world, we mostly have our heads down with our eyes locked on our phones. When we notice something in the actual world worth looking away from our phones for, we immediately capture it- through our phones. We Snapchat it or Instagram it but we rarely appreciate beauty without using a technological medium.

And so Nicholas made us put our phones away. He made his friends (the group I described earlier) gather in the center of the room and move around. And he made us observe them in any medium we liked- drawing, writing, writing music- but no photos. No phones.

I’m a huge people watcher. But I do it with a sense of shame. I find immense beauty in strangers and beholding them and wondering about the possible complexities of their lives, but when I get caught staring, I, of course, feel strange (a feeling I’m sure fellow watchers share).

But there was this moment, when the man in the wheelchair did a handstand on his handlebars, and it was such a beautiful and intimate thing- I gazed at him and just lost myself in the wonder of his movements. Then, suddenly, that shame snuck in: “stop staring!” When I remembered that it was OK to stare, I felt this huge sense of relief and liberation. I could fully take in the beauty of his form. And that was a super cool feeling.

Last Sunday, I went to my first art workshop (I think?). I used to spend much more time on my artistic endeavors, but have cut back greatly in the past few years. I was even considering taking an art class at Cornell to get back into creating art on a more regular basis, something I had done for years up to a certain point in high school, when it ended kind of abruptly. My experience at this workshop was definitely unexpected.

I had attended the art reception at the beginning of March for House Fellow Nicholas Carbonara’s art in the Rose dining hall, where he talked about the asymmetries of people on the subway. At the workshop, he spoke some more about his experience working with the details of hair and the importance of experiencing things not through the lens of a digital device. While there was colored paper and markers provided, Nicholas encouraged those who weren’t comfortable with drawing to write about their observations. He told us to not just focus on the models, friends and dogs he had brought along him, but to other people in the room and how they react.

Once the music started, we were left to our own observations. I think it took a few moments before anyone actually put something down on paper, but the models were in their element and moving around. The first thing I sketched was of the fluid motion of the models moving to the music, but was then quickly drawn to the various resting positions the models slipped in and out of. I hadn’t considered the variety of positions in which someone can look relaxed, but I filled up a decent amount of space with different relaxing body positions.

I then started to focus more on the hands, especially after one of the models clapped loudly, slightly startling all of us who weren’t expecting such a stark break to the scene. Hands themselves can capture a lot of emotion and I started to fill up another page with sketches of different hand positions – hands holding things, hands tensed up, hands reaching, hands pushing, hands supporting. This made me think back to an old friend’s AP Studio Art concentration portfolio about hands in during different memorable moments. Before I knew it, an hour’s time was up and I had been able to release myself from my everyday worries.

The session ended with some very insightful conversation about just life in general. One big thing was about engaging with other people. The model who was in a wheelchair talked about his experience with a sort of offensive-defensive approach people have when they look at him, something I definitely felt but tried to fight during the session. Your physical appearance commanding attention is powerful and a good way to start to engage with people. Along with this was the fact that kids are innocently authentic, and do things that we find outrageous, only when we look at things hypercritically. This bled into something another participant brought up about trying to get to a relaxing mindset because of all the daily stresses we experience at Cornell and how taking too long to relax can also be stressful. One thing that was suggested was to take even the short moments walking between classes to be self-centered – to take back that moment and place yourself first instead of obsessing over other things.

Artist Nicholas Carbonara hosted an interesting workshop that was centered around the idea of simply observing your surroundings and essentially meditate while drawing. It was an unconventional experience that I didn’t expect and I really enjoyed. He briefly touched on the current societal trend where everyone tries to take pictures of every single event, primarily for archival purposes. It is an interesting cultural habit and I think that is rather problematic because personally I feel that while in certain situations you may want to capture moments, i.e., a baby’s first steps, I would argue that you should rather just experience the event and engage your senses. You may not be able to visually recollect the memory down the road in your mind but certainly the sensations that you felt, like smells and sounds, may be more prominent. When looking back at photos in the future, you lack context and it just becomes a collection of pixels on a screen. Depending on certain sounds or smells, memories from that past with that smell could be triggered spontaneously but you lose this capability if you focus more on taking photos. Do you think people should reprioritize engaging their senses over primarily taking pictures for each new experience?

Regardless, I enjoyed simply staying in a room with relaxing music and a few unique models and enacting different poses and actions. I can’t say I drew anything of substance; it was rather scattered and reflected my shifting attention across the room to different objects and people. There wasn’t really any much thinking going on in that period and it was a wonderful experience. I would love to engage in this type of workshop in the future. Take some time to do some people watching or simply sit on a bench and draw for 15-30 minutes. I think it would surprise you how enjoyable and pleasant the experience will be.

When I was five I attended art classes, an effort my mother made in order to prevent me from drawing on walls. I also was enrolled in swim class, music class, and a dance class. I quit piano in first grade but picked up violin from fourth to tenth grade. I sang in the chorus in middle school. Between six and eight grade I used to read on average five books every two weeks.

Sometime in my high school years, I stopped it all. I quit orchestra because it conflicted my morning practice schedule. I stopped reading for fun because I didn’t have time due to schoolwork. I stopped making art due to my reallocation of free time to spending it with friends and there wasn’t art class to force me to make things.

Last summer my aunt, an artist, asked me if she could present one of my work when I made when I was younger as part of a National Taiwan Family exhibit. I agreed. I attended the exhibit and felt really out of place among professors and experts of art. However, my duck that I painted when I was four was placed proudly in the second floor corner, far away from the main highlighted pieces. Yet in the end of the summer, I had a call that I had a buyer. My dad didn’t want to sell it so our family still owned it.

What is interesting is that I have been away from creating anything of artistic nature for at least five years. Last weekend was the first time that I drew a drawing, and not just simple doodles that I made on top of my class notes. I was surprised at what I drew. I created an image about a person who was daydreaming. About a world in which every person’s identity and perspective is built upon their perspectives and experiences on life. About a city that was built upon the lives and blood of those who came before them. My art has became surprisingly…dark.

This experience has taught me that art and the courage to give yourself one hour to break free of the rules of the world can reflect how your personality has developed over time, how you have come to realize the world. In its own way, it is a method of self discovery, your consciousness portrayed externally in a way that you may not always be able to express in words, transcript reports, or athletic medals.

Today, I had the wonderful experience of creating art at a workshop hosted by Nicholas Carbonara. My original thought of what this workshop would be was Nicholas drawing something live while we, as the students, would copy and interpret onto our own canvas. However, this experience was so different.

Nicholas allowed us to draw or write whatever we liked in a period of time with a few models in the center of the room and music playing in the background. It was very interesting how the different models changed poses and the movements they created to inspire. They danced along to the music, played with the dogs (two of the most adorable models), or just relaxed. Personally, I spent the time drawing using markers. My art was based on lines and circles. After I felt it was complete, I played with his dogs and even held one.

At our discussion at the end of the session, he really pressed upon the notion of using this as a relaxation technique. Spend a bit of time everyday to reflect and enjoy your memories rather than try to capture them on your camera. Take 10 minutes everyday to just relax and draw a bit on whatever you feel inspired about. That was a great message to end off the workshop. Thanks!