By Bradley Johannes

Everywhere we go, whether it be across campus or downtown, the spaces and areas we pass through can feel far from lifeless when filled with people. However, even when no one is around, they carry evidence, whether it be scuffs in the sand, rain on a bench, dirt paths carved by those who walk there, that something or someone has been there before. Ever since I was younger, I found myself to be someone that notices really small details, and combined with an active imagination, almost everything around me had the ability to come to life. Trees didn’t just grow, they would watch. Benches don’t just have people sit there, it holds them people up when they’re tired. Paths remember those who walked there by the footprints. Almost anything, if not everything, can be personified.

Each of these entries are meant to be given a voice to the stationary when possible if you simply stand still long enough to be able to hear it. The volleyball courts humming from the aftershocks of old games, the drillfield echoes the past, present, and the future of students walking to class, the bands rehearsing, and the events that take place there. A lot of these become more than just architecture and scenery, and more about the relationship with the people. They hold memories, remind us that the environment is not static because they respond, absorb, and reflect the actions of those who were there.

The key takeaway is this. Places are never just places. They have the ability to become characters in a story, in a memory, holding emotions, history, and echoes of our time there. By noticing these things, we are able to open our eyes to the world around us a little bit better.

V is for Volleyball

Prompt 2.08 Sporting Event; Photograph and Text

Figure 01. Sand court near the Owen’s lot (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The volleyball court is never truly empty, even when no one is playing. The sand carries the memory of movement in scuffs and shallow potholes. The net flows with every gust, as if still reacting to the last serve. I catch soundless shouts and echoing slaps. I remember the first week of college during move in week. No classes, no worries, no stress. It’s a different kind of gravity here where people jump off the ground for a second, only for the sand to pull them back down to reality.

B for Bench

Prompt 2.05 Texture Archive; Photograph and Text

Figure 02. Rain-soaked bench under streetlamp glow at around 1:00 am in front of Squires (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Making the image black and white is possibly the best way to communicate this entry, truth be told. The bench, all alone in the rain. During the day it’s just another part of the landscape, an outdoor furniture set aside for small stops and simple exchanges. In the night, it’s splashed by the harsh light of the streetlamps, its wet wooden slats and cold iron arms are given a kind of shine. Water pools in the grooves like clutches of suppressed breath, then flows silently away. Clearly, no one is sitting, but the bench appears to be taken by the traces of those who used to sit there. The students waiting for a ride, friends relaxing in the shade, a person tired after a long walk. The bricks appear as shattered glass at night , the walkway next to it capturing the lamplight in long, fractured brushstrokes. All the reflections seem almost deliberate, drawn by the unpredictable rain patterns of a storm. The wind is carrying the scent of damp mulch and wet pavement, an odor that suggests stagnation and aftermath.

D for Drillfield

Prompt 2.06 Talking Along the Drillfield; Photograph and Text

Figure 03. Drillfield mid-day (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The Drillfield always feels like a pause in the middle of a sentence. The empty space in between the residential housing and the academic buildings. No matter which way you enter, the space stretches out before you like an ellipsis, urging you to fill in the blank. Last year, my first walk across it felt endless with my backpack digging into my shoulders while everyone’s voices rose and fell everywhere around me. No matter where you looked, it was always full of people holding something, whether it’s conversations, backpacks, food from the dining halls after a class. I had convinced myself everyone was watching, being the self conscious introvert that I am, measuring the clumsy rhythm of my steps. They weren’t, of course. Rather, they were too busy tracing their own silent diagonals through the grass. Now, when I stand at the edge, I can almost see those earlier versions of myself flickering in and out: one sprinting to make class, another lost in headphones, one enjoying Gobblerfest or other events. The Drillfield collects all of them, holding them in invisible layers that thicken with each passing semester with each and every student that walks across it. Sometimes, when the light is low and less people are around, it’s easier to imagine those layers overlapping, and the people walking now brush shoulders with people from past times. Oddly enough, the more I thought about it, you kinda carried your own ghost across the grass, and for a moment, I had a realization that the field doesn’t just belong to you. It belongs to every step that’s ever crossed it.

L for Light post

2.03 Sounds Archive; Photograph and Text

Figure 04. A couple walking home in the rain downtown around 11pm (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The rain floats as much as it falls, thin strands drawn by the streetlights’ glow. Every drop of it reflects light before getting lost in the street, devoured by reflections that pursue one another in the brick pavement. In front of them, a couple walked, one umbrella bent over them. The noise of their feet is quiet and soft, the drops of water that gather around their shoes covering the sound. The lamplight shines on either side of their shoulders, making them seem like extensions of the night itself, half-there, half-mirror. The light turns green, waves of green and red scatters in puddles before disappearing into the quiet. The baskets droop, dripping with rain, petals dulled but bright in the damp air. I stay still for an instant, seeing how the light makes all this happen, makes everything have this beat, this sense that downtown breathes differently when it’s nighttime. There’s something peaceful about it, something intimate, delicate, and ephemeral. The sort of moment that can’t be fabricated or searched for, only observed before it dissolves into the next thought.

F for Flower

Prompt 3.12 Five Senses; Photograph and Text

Figure 05. A bee hovering near small white flowers at dusk (Original photograph, Bradley J)

In the noisy area in front of Dietrick Hall, a small hum between the petals adds to the students talking. The sweater weather of Fall where it’s cold enough to wear a sweatshirt but still warm enough with enough sun and luckily, warm enough for the bee. The setting sun lets small bits of yellow pierce through the leaves while the bee pollinates. Watching the bee work only brings me joy remembering the sweet taste of honey it produces. From this viewpoint, the world seems so small yet so peaceful.

C for Costume

Prompt 3.07 Observational Portrait; Photograph and Text

Figure 06: A friend wearing her Halloween costume, becoming a portrait of the moment (Original Photograph, Bradley J)

The costume, a dark angel, almost takes on an otherworldly quality from the harsh light from the lamp behind. The dark wings, a soft texture with a sharp contrast to the bright stone behind her on the right and the dark night on the left. The light crowns her with a bright halo, turning the costume of what was a simple outfit into something more dreamlike. She sits quietly, hands folded, paused and posed for the camera. The backdrop says less about being subtle and brings the costume to life.

E for Empty

Prompt 2.18 A Wish for Something to Be Different

Figure 07: A barren tree wishing to be full of color again (Original Photograph, Bradley J)

The branches reach out quietly, like hands, thin and waiting. Scattered leaves cling to the branches, flowing back and forth in the wind. The ground below, covered in what once was a beautiful red and orange scene. Now, it looks like everything was paused. The sky gray, the tree barren, the space between trees seeming to grow making each tree lonely. Just one of those days of the Fall where even the emptiness of leaves on a tree seemed full for a breath, holding what’s gone and what’s still falling.

T for Trail

Figure 08: The walk back from the academic side to Duck Pond overflow lot (Original Photograph, Bradley J)

The walk back to Duckpond Overflow Lot is a long one, but at the same time, it’s only a slight 10 minutes from car to class. However, within those 10 minutes are sometimes the best thought-provoking moments with nothing to do but walk and think. Each bend on the trail is sometimes a new train of thought, whether it be about the sports that I played as I pass the golfers swinging their clubs or reminders of my own dog when I see the ducks swimming in the mini ponds.

A for Archway

Prompt 3.05 Drawn and Repelled; Photograph and Text

Figure 09. The archway creates a push–pull feeling, drawing me into its shade while repelling me into the light that bursts on the other side. (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Passing through the arch is like crossing a portal every single time, even when I am simply on my way to class. The stone chills the air within its boundary, holding shade and resonating the footsteps within. Outside, everything lights up suddenly with bright trees covered with the light of the afternoon, and the sidewalk curves toward open grass. A person wanders along beside the doorway, unaffected by the juxtaposition. The world appears to be set up from this vantage point, an unwitting lens carved out of stone and time.

I for Intrigue

3.05 Drawn and Repelled; Photograph and Text

Figure 10. A couple sharing a moment together atop War Memorial (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The sky is filled with some sort of in-between light, soft and amber with thought of leaving as the sun goes down.  On the ledge of the war memorial chapel, a couple sits in the warm evening watching as the world goes by around them. Their feet suspended, nothing below their feet alluding to the fact that there’s nothing that disturbs their moment together. One points at something unknown, trying to direct the other’s attention. The motion, suspended between curiosity and storytelling. What was it? Who knows but those two.

U for Upwards

2.22 Stairs Vs Elevator; Photograph and Text

Figure 11. The stairs at Pamplin Hall (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Painted in red and orange, there’s a couple motivational words on the stairs inside Pamplin Hall. It’s where I go almost every Monday, Wednesday, or Friday for public speaking class. Sometimes I look at it wondering if anyone actually takes any time appreciating the effort put in but then again, I barely do as I normally recognize it as nothing more than a set of stairs. My class is up the stairs and to the right, but ironically, coming from the main entrance below, I don’t even pass the elevator.

W for Wonder

2.07 What even goes on in there?; Photograph and Text

Figure 12. One of the entrances to Williams Hall (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The tall stone walls and brick lines frame the entrance where the trees almost seem to stand guard. The direction of this entrance causes it to always be encased in shadow creating a serious, dark atmosphere. Currently, I’m simply a passerby, looking at the covered windows. Just about everything and anything inside becomes an enigma, hidden from the outside world. It’s the type of academic building where, looking in, one figures what type of department could be left out based on sheer size. Shrouded in mystery, one can only wonder.

G for Gratitude

2.10 Favorite Tree, A Note of Appreciation; Photograph and Text

Figure 13. The tree closest to the road next to Duck Pond Overflow Lot (Original photograph, Bradley J)

This tree stands tall and strong amidst the weather and golf balls. Squished in between the Duck Pond Overflow lot and the golf course, it offers students some protection from the wind on the windy days, and the scorching sun on the hot days. The chain fence in between the path and the tree makes it seem like it’s on display at times. Always unnoticed by students, it somehow has the playful personality of dropping a fruit on an oblivious person who walks under its branches when it feels ignored.

S for Stagnant

2.16 Waiting in Line; Photograph and Text

Figure 14. Waiting in line at Chipotle (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Every time a new person walks in, the line forms and reshapes itself, again and again. Each person stands in their own personal bubble, some people isolated in their own world when looking at their phone. Others choose to look at the menu when in reality, it’s simply Chipotle. Most people who go to Chipotle already know their orders by heart and really just look up to see if there’s anything new or a price increase. The air, warm and smelling like seasoned chicken only makes the waiting feel longer.

N for Nighttime

2.03 Overhead at Time of Day; Photograph and Text

Figure 15. Walking out at 11 pm, snow is falling (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The snow drifts down gently, illuminated by the streetlights, specks of gold and yellow littering the space. A thin coat of snow covers the cars, freezing to the touch. The air, sharp and stinging like needles on my face and skin. The night shapeshifts the world into a small, dim corridor as everything beyond the light fades into shadow. The falling snow gives the scene more suspended and dreamlike quality, setting a slow pace to the brief walk. A moment is created where the night is close enough to touch.

H for Hazard

2.14 Signage; Photograph and Text

Figure 16. Hazard sign next to Duck Pond (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The bright yellow sign sticks out against the blue and brown background as drivers approach it around the bend. “When Flooded, Turn Around, Don’t Drown” is oddly satisfying because of its nature. The phrase turn around, don’t drown, almost rhymes drawing a whimsical tone while contrasting its completely dark meaning. Most days, the road is dry making the warning almost seem out of place. However, it carries the memories of days of rainstorms and rushing water, the cold water overflowing, where the pavement and roads become one with the pond. 

P for Path

2.17 Desire Path; Photograph and Text

Figure 17. One of the dirt trails on the way to the Duck Pond Overflow Lot (Original photograph, Bradley J)

A thin strip of grassless dirt stretches across the ground next to the sidewalk splitting the path. Nothing fancy as students prefer practicality over comfort, walking on the dirt vs the paved path. The shadows cast by the sun and tree reach over as if they’re thinking the same way. The desired path speaks out about something simple and honest. Design shows intention but movement shows truth and it goes to show because this short trail, albeit only a couple feet, exists from students without ever speaking to each other.

N for Neglect

2.24 A Meditation on Garbage; Photograph and Text

Figure 18. A receipt found on the ground outside my apartment (Original photograph, Bradley J)

A receipt, found on the ground, resting after being blown by the wind, possibly out of someone’s hand or their grocery bag. Seeing as to how there’s a Food Lion nearby, that’s probably where it’s home was before it found it’s way into the grass, neglected by those who walk nearby and not picking it up. It could have been here for hours. The receipt, a reminder as proof of purchase, also becomes the reminder of our own environmental impact, proof of the neglect of those who care about our surroundings.

Q for Quiet

2.19 Duck Pond; Photograph and Text

Figure 19. Someone sitting at the picnic tables observing the ducks nearby (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The scene almost seems surreal in person. The slightly cool weather, brisk enough to wear a light jacket, but enough to wear it doesn’t make it uncomfortable. The sun, shining bright during the mid afternoon casting a reflection on the pond, illuminating the ducks swimming happily. Several ducks swim closer to him, hoping he’d feed them some bread. A person sits at the picnic table nearby, taking in the calm, quiet view. The peaceful splashes of the duck’s feet, the light quacks give the mind ease and a quietness unmatched.

M for Materials

2.23 The Things You Carry; Photograph and Text

Figure 20. The things I carry in my backpack not including the keyboard and monitor (Original photograph, Bradley J)

As one who likes to be efficient and doesn’t carry unnecessary things, I keep my bag to a light minimum. As such, my laptop and tablet come first, allowing my to do my studies and assignments wherever. The keys, to drive me wherever my heart contents or needs to be. The charger, giving my devices life so I don’t remain disconnected from an online world. The humble pencil and eraser, for writing new ideas and solving problems, and to erase the mistakes so that I have the ability to improve.

J for Journey

2.32 Shortest Walk; Video and Text

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fEhhtK_hVneXtwJpmWp6IcI2VKe3lOwy/view?usp=sharing

Video 1. A short 10 second video from the door of my apartment to my room. WordPress would not accept the video for unknown reasons. (Original video, Bradley J)

It’s been a day. Late into the night. I want to rest. From door to room. My feet move quickly. The warm temperature embraces. I close the door. Replacing the cold air. The lights guide me. My room so close. I hear the music. The deep bass pumping. The guitars strumming loudly. Country music and RnB. Fighting over filling space. Smell of pumpkin spice. What a refreshing scent. Makes me feel hungry. Instead I skip eating. Too tired to eat. I open my door. My ambient room opening. Finally back.

O for Opaque

2.12 Indoor Walk; Hand drawn map and Text

Figure 21. A hand drawn map of a portion of my apartment (Original drawing, Bradley J)

Opaque: In Latin opacus, it translates to dark or shadowy. As odd as it sounds, when it comes to early and later hours in the day, without lights, the house can seem opaque. Several steps from my bedroom to the kitchen, the hall becomes a narrow tunnel of darkness from lack of natural light. With the direction the apartment faces, there is never direct sunlight going through the windows, giving the house a dark, desolate atmosphere at certain times. With such a closed floor plan, light seems bounded by walls.

Z for Zoom

2.18 A Wish for Something to be Different; Hand drawn map and Text

Figure 22. A drawing of the area surrounding Duck Pond Overflow Lot and Duck Pond Lot with an added road connecting to I-81 (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Duck Pond Overflow Lot was made to accommodate the amount of students that parked on campus when Duck Pond Lot was full. As it stands, I find that both lots are often filled very quickly in the morning hours when I arrive for classes. Apart from parked cars, there’s often cars that would seem parked on Duck Pond Dr. from the volume of people trying to leave at the same time. Something I wish to be different is an alternate route that takes you straight to I-81 from the lot.

X for Xeric

2.02 Shoe Portraits; Photograph and Text

Figure 23. A photograph of my custom Nike Air Force 1s that are a few years old (Original photograph, Bradley J)

These shoes had crossed lands far from home, from the beaches in the US, the hot cities in Europe, the mountains during the summer in Japan, and the burning streets in Indonesia. Dust and dirt cling to the shoes making all those trips unforgettable memories. What once used to be a bright red swoosh now is a faded mark with each scuff shown worn proudly of all the conditions it’s been in. Xeric: a word that can be used to describe something as adaptable to harsh, heated conditions and environments.