Posted on March 03, 2013

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I've been passing the posters for UMass Night Out for a few weeks; every semester, University Programming Council arranges for a Friday night of activities in and around the campus center.  Since  all the events are free and I've been practically living in the campus center for the past few weeks, I decided drop in for some welcome relief from schoolwork in the form of free entertainment.

I popped in and out of events, from the Not Ready For Bedtime Players performance in the basement of the campus center to the free movie screening in the Cape Cod Lounge, before grabbing free popcorn and ending up in a room with a playing card covered floor.  While I had evidently missed the first magician performance, I was just on time to catch Michael Kent's comedy magic routine.

Lucky for the audience, and at the misfortune of the poor souls who volunteered to be a part of the show, Kent struck a good balance between legitimately surprising tricks and the sort of public embarrassment that consistently got laughs from the crowd.  After a day of running around, it was a perfect, and free, way to catch my breath and usher in the weekend.

Posted on February 18, 2013

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This was going to be a story about my 21st birthday.

It was going to be a tale of the glorious weekend when my years would accumulate enough to turn my vertical New Jersey license horizontal, allowing me to loiter inside Atlantic City casinos without getting kicked out or order that strawberry daiquiri I've always been curious about.

Alas, this is not a post about my birthday, at least in those senses. Instead, what began as such became a chronicle of the weekend when two photographers came together to, perhaps accidentally, document every last second of their time together.

I had been looking forward to my big sister coming to visit for weeks.  For awhile it was iffy; too much snow and too much work threatened to postpone the celebration I looked forward to.  Despite the odds, she showed up this previous Saturday with four film cameras and one digital in tow.

The weekend as I remember it was a lot of fun; we spent the morning hanging out with my boyfriend, wandered into a Northampton sushi restaurant with a friend, went to Amherst Brewing company for a beer sampler, and explored the streets and shops of Amherst.

The pictures I took don't quite reflect the weekend I remember; in the grand majority of the 250 I shot, my sister is holding a camera or setting up for a photo.  Some people argue that a photographer is never truly in the moment, always seeing life through the lens rather than the eyes.  Having lived a weekend like this, where cameras were always present but always an afterthought, I can't say I agree.  Observing through a lens didn't disconnect me from the situation at hand, but brought me closer to the people I was spending that valuable time with.

Posted on February 09, 2013

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After a snowfall of about one and a half feet of snow, the students of UMass are out enjoying the drastically changed landscape. Despite campus being closed, there were still people all around lobbing snow at one another and shoving each other into snow drifts. I went with two friends to walk around campus and document the fun being had.

Outside my dorm, on the hill in front of Baker, there were many sledders, skiers, and snowboarders. I heard shouts of "Go!" when it was safe at the bottom for the next person to speed down the hill. A jump had been set up for those that had the guts to take it to the next level.

Posted on February 09, 2013

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As someone who never liked the cold and would really enjoy snow if it were only  50 degrees warmer, going to school in Massachusetts was a bold choice.  While Massachusetts sat snowed into a state of emergency, I donned my parka, knit fingerless gloves and camera and took to campus by foot to photograph the ever-accepted half-snow day. 
While I got plenty of the deserted campus shots I expected,  I also ran into a handful of others outside braving the blizzard.  Some were walking back up the hill toward Van Meter after a late lunch or wandering off through the otherwise desolate pathways of campus, destination unknown. I ran into others, suited up in clothes for the weather, waging snowball wars outside of Orchard Hill or skiing down the hill. 
Hours later, I'm warm and ready for bed as the snow still flakes down outside my window.  My shades are drawn, but the sound of snowplows circling the building continues to make the weather evident.  With my birthday and other plans later this weekend, I have to be thankful for the constant drone outside, without which I would surely be snowed in come sunrise.

Posted on February 04, 2013

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One afternoon, I decided to garner all of the physical evidence of being a UMass student I possessed. I wanted to see what it looked like all in the same place. I found the free towel I got at the summer orientation before my freshman year. I found the water bottles I received from the dining hall and the advising office.

I remembered all of the free T-shirts I'd gotten from various events and activities. I bought one for myself but soon realized that they weren't too difficult to acquire. Simply going to a sporting event, joining a club, or being active around campus would bring you into contact with many free-stuff opportunities.

I collected my textbooks; surely they would be proof that I was a student. Some of the books from past classes I found interesting and wanted to keep for future reference. Some were written by my professors and all were carefully selected.

Looking through my desk I found some old newspapers from the past semester. Some I kept because my photos were featured in the issue and I wanted to have a printed copy, others I kept simply because I had been planning on reading that day's paper and I forgot about it.

After looking some of them over for a few minutes, I remembered all of the events I went to last semester on campus and looked for the ticket stubs. I found only some of the tickets from the many places I went last semester. I went to the movies many times with my friends, I went to concerts on campus and in the local area, I even saw Noam Chomsky speak about the political climate of our time. Obviously, after looking over all of this I thought about what really made me a UMass student-the people I know. Looking back at all of the physical evidence, I can really see how much of an impact UMass has made on my life. All of these things wouldn't have happened if I hadn't come to UMass.

Posted on January 26, 2013

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On Friday, anyone driving past the horseshoe in Southwest would have a hard time ignoring the mountain of snow piled up on Southwest Beach.  Previously called the Metawampe Stompe and located near the Campus Center, this year's Rail Jam drew skiers, snowboarders and onlooker alike to the island of grass on the southern edge of campus.  As someone who can neither ski nor snowboard, I took my place in the latter of the three categories, lining up along the barrier to appreciate the competitions jumps, tricks and, yes, wipeouts.

Posted on January 25, 2013

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Starting a new semester is always such a strange feeling. On one hand, when I climb the usual three flights of stairs to my room or habitually cut through the Student Union on my way to the library, the familiar sights and sounds from the soul of the campus make me feel like I never left.  On the other, the energy brought about by thousands of new schedules is almost tangible, presenting itself as the students who comb corridors in search of their next class, or my friends who tell detailed stories of their first days.
A second semester junior, I was almost surprised by how quickly I fell back into the swing of things.  The names Herter and Morrill aren't quite as alien to me as they were two years ago, and I feel at home passing time between classes in the basement of Bartlett, the building that has hosted the grand majority of my classes since freshman year.
Though I feel like I know this campus like the back of my hand, I started this semester with something very much outside of my routine: I attended my first UMass basketball game.
When I was picking colleges, one thing I considered was school spirit.  I come from a high school where no one but the players were excited about school sports, and I wanted to find a community supportive of our school name and athletics.
Why, then, have I never been to a game? Freshman and sophomore year, it just never seemed like the right time; it always seemed like either my friends were busy or I was.
The right time would eventually come the Saturday before winter semester was to begin.  My friend Evan, who I was visiting before moving into my dorm on Sunday, his parents and I made it to the Mullins Center around 3:30. Of course, we weren't going to see just any basketball game; this special game against George Washington would see Marcus Camby's number retired from UMass basketball during a halftime ceremony.  When the NBA player spoke, he received a standing ovation from the maroon-clad crowd surrounding the floor.
As far as first games go, this one was a pretty good choice.  Although we were ultimately closely defeated, the game was a tight one that kept me rooting on the edge of my chair.
Posted on January 21, 2013

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Yesterday I walked over to Gorman Dorm to help my younger sister move in. She had brought most (probably all) of her clothes home for the break and it was time to bring them back. My mother had also taken her to the grocery store to stock up on all varieties of snacks. It seems that if my parents weren't feeding her anymore she would be fending for herself (it's called a meal plan). After a couple trips up and down the stairs it was time to say goodbye until the next long weekend.

Posted on January 18, 2013

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It's been a good winter break.  I say this both objectively and in comparison to the past few.

I suppose, in retrospect, it isn't hard to trump my time at home freshman year, a chunk of which I spent in bed recovering from wisdom tooth removal, or sophomore year, which I spent mostly camera-less.

Still, I feel like I spent time this break creating memories, rather than just looking forward to new ones.  Over the past few weeks, I danced with flashlights in the middle of the night, caught up on my reading, saw a great film or two, turned into a tourist in the streets of Boston and became a guide through the townships of northern New Jersey.

After visiting Amherst, Alexa and I headed southeast toward my boyfriend Gabe's house.  Once there, we had one request: we wanted to go to the New England Aquarium.
I've only been to Boston a couple times before; last summer, I spent a memorable rainy night huddled under a tarp on the banks of the Charles River, watching 4th of July fireworks among a crowd of thousands.  Four years before that, I skimmed the city with two busloads of my choir colleagues on the way to a singing competition.  Our schedule, which did the best it could to mesh performance and sightseeing, was tight, and it wasn't a surprise when the planned trip to the aquarium became a race back to the busses.  I always wanted to go back, and now seemed like the perfect time.

Gabe, being a wonderful boyfriend and a good sport, humored my urges to go on the most stereotypically touristy excursions in Boston.
That day, I fumbled with my Charlie Ticket while entering the T station, ate overpriced food at Quincy Market, gazed at cuttlefish and seahorses at the aquarium, and enjoyed every moment of it. Camera constantly in hand, there's no doubt I looked like the definition of a tourist.  This truth didn't bother me; it would only be another day or so before the tourist tables turned.

The last night at his house, I watched Gabe buy a train ticket for the following Saturday: Newark, NJ to Providence, RI, one-way.
After the long drive back to Jersey, we dropped Alexa off and I started brainstorming locations of interest. The following days were filled with musical museum visits, tea drinking in Montclair, street exploring in the heart of Morristown and searching far and wide for a 17th birthday present for my little sister.

Day-trips are fun, but introducing someone from far away to my hometown is equally fulfilling.

“There's the diner we go to at midnight,” I point out as we drive down the streets of my neighborhood, “Oh, there's the summer camp I used to work at.  There's my old high school, and see that stream? That used to be part of the Morris Canal. I pass it every day.”

I've gotten very used to seeing the old section of the Morris Canal daily, whether I'm headed to Shop Rite to pick up milk for my mom or driving over to route 10 on my way to Alexa's house.

Now that I'm feeling familiar with my hometown, it's time to shake that all up again.  Right now, my room is a mess, clothes and dorm supplies haphazardly thrown into various semi-piles across my floor.  By this time tomorrow, I'll be packed and prepared to head back up to Amherst.  Dorms don't open until Sunday, but I'll be heading up Saturday to stay with friends.

This semester will certainly be an interesting one; between my investigative journalism class, my final semester of spanish, all of the photography I'm involved in, and dipping my toe into the world of writing for the Collegian, I know I'm going to need to get back into the swing of properly budgeting my time if I want to stay on top of my work.  Still, I have a few more days before I can actively confront my new schedule. For now, I can only breathe in the last few days of break with an excited eye toward next semester.

Posted on January 11, 2013

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A month never seems that long on paper; It's living the month of break that makes it feel much longer.

At the beginning of break, I had trouble dropping the feeling of running on a tight schedule, and now, a week before I head back, I'm trying to remember what it felt like to plan my weeks in advance.  It's only been a month, compared to the three UMass has off for summer break, but the feeling of a new year, and coming of a new semester, is in the air.

I can't lie: I'm looking forward to getting back; when I visited my friends last week, we ended up at one point perusing my pictures and reminiscing about the year.

I decided I wanted to share some of my favorite moments from the past year with you, as well as what I'm looking forward to in the coming two semesters, in chronological order.

#10: Hiking in the Holyoke Range
No one could say Sabrina and I weren't prepared.  The morning we decided to head toward the mountains for the first time, we made sure to stock up at CBS on our way to Mt. Norwottuck. Between us, we had a can of bug spray, four pints of water, countless fruit and granola bars, a bag of almonds, and a roll of toilet paper, all shoved into our two bags.  Of course, the wikiHow pages we read in preparation of going hiking were more than likely meant for those intending on descending into the wilderness for the greater part of a day, if not longer, but a newbie mistake that over-prepares is better than one of not preparing at all.
I don't remember very much of the hike up, only that we kept stopping, at my request, for a break or photo on the side.  Once we made it to the top of the mountain that we thought, at the time, was Mt. Norwottuck, but later discovered to be its neighbor, we dropped our bags on a rock and looked out over the Valley.  We had made it to the top in a little under an hour, and had, luckily, completely overestimated our need of toilet paper.  The view this sunny morning was glorious.
We headed back about 45 minutes later, after we had gotten our fill of the gorgeous view from the top.  As we approached Route 9, Sabrina asked if she could make a pitstop at a hair supply store, which brings me to...

#9: Spur-of-the-moment hair dye decisions
I had just finished my work for the night when I heard the familiar knock on my wall. With two quick rasps from her side, Sabrina wanted to know if she could come in.  I opened the door for my neighbor, who was holding a new bottle of hair dye.
"Hey, I'm about to bleach my hair, you want in?"
At the time, my hair was, once more, colorless.  I didn't really know how to dye my hair freshman year, but I certainly gave it my darnedest.  The summer before sophomore, I told the stylist that I wanted to get my hair cut and, really, cut off as much of the embarrassing blueish greenish tips as you like.
"Yeah, definitely."
I remember donning an old night shirt for myself and giving one to Sabrina before we headed to the sinks.  We bleached our hair and waited several hours, saying we'd dye the next day to let it settle first.  Predictably, we give up on waiting and globbed on the dye, hoping it would still work.  Sabrina came out with pink bangs, and I wound up with several dark blue strands of hair that I'm still holding onto.

#8: Long-exposure photo shoots
As a photographer, it feels appropriate to include at least one act of taking pictures on my top ten list.  I had been promising some friends a photo shoot for ages and, having found a night when we were all free, sent out a text about it.  The plan was simple: Meet me in my room around 8. I'll supply the music and the lights.
Long exposure photography and I go back years and years, to my sophomore year of high school when I was trying to explore new photographic techniques.
Beyond the camera settings, there was very little technical about this shoot.  I handed my friends finger lights, glow sticks, and anything stuffed with LEDs.  With a longer shutter speed set on my camera and the flash on, I caught both my friends' faces and the tracks of light made by their accessories.  The shoot went on for hours and yielded a batch of new profile pictures, as well as some of my favorite shots at the time.

#7: Route 9 Diner trips
Every town has that place: the 24 hour coffee shop or restaurant that holds a sort of midnight charm, drawing groups of students at late night hours to consume early morning food.  For many of us, that place is the Route 9 Diner.
The first time I was there was mid-winter freshman year; being freshmen, two of my friends and I decided to, as we called it, go on an adventure at 2 a.m.  We wandered through campus and ended up on route 9, heading in the direction of Northampton.  Our final destination was the Diner, an event I only partially remember due to sleepiness.
Since then, the Route 9 trips have only been able to happen when certain conditions are met: a group of friends must all be willing to a) go out in the cold b) to buy food c) at some strange hour of the night.  This has only happened a few times, but each one sticks out to me.

#6: The Peace Pagoda
The hills of Leverett were possibly the last place I would expect to find a Buddhist stupa, yet the New England Peace Pagoda sits atop a mountain in the forested town.  It's only a short drive away, but it certainly doesn't feel like it.
Evan and I had both been there before, though that didn't make finding the cite easier.  We got a little lost on the roads there, but finally arriving was worth it.  That afternoon, we watched insects crawling around by the pond and wandered around the stacks of balanced rocks on the silent grounds.  The Pagoda in the woods continues to grab my attention and hold my respect, as it is probably the most interesting and peaceful place I could spend an afternoon.

#5: Humans vs. Zombies
I know, I know, quite a quick jump in subject matter.  First of all, no, I didn't play Humans vs. Zombies, and, yes, like everyone else, I always wondered what exactly they were doing.  I started covering the game for a multimedia class project.  I went in expecting to cover a glorified game of freeze tag, but came out with an understanding of a game based around strategy, with a unique plot, characters, and missions.
Covering this game definitely changed the way I viewed it; when I saw a NERF-clenching bandana-wearing student sprinting ahead of an organized group of zombies, I now wondered where they were headed, if a mission was going on and where the plot was.  Humans vs. Zombies administrator Chris Kimball told me the best part of the game was that "you form a special bond of friendship over a silly game with NERF guns,” and isn't that all that really matters?

#4: Puffers Pond
Like the Peace Pagoda, I've never gone to Puffers Pond to get something done; rather, I go there to remove myself from the bustle of the day and the stress of classes.  One warm day last fall, I got a text from Sabrina.
"Tommy and I are going to Puffers Pond. Come on."
I was done with classes for the day and ran outside to meet them.  As far as nice days go, very little can beat the smell of crisp air, the chill of cool water, and the feeling of wandering through the woods with friends.  We parked on the street and spent the rest of the day just sitting on the banks and talking about our day.  I've been back there since, both on my own and with other people, but this perfect day is still my definitive representation of the pond in my mind.

#3: Halloween Weekend
My friends and I are not expert planners.  Yes, we could have gone to a Halloween show or one of the many seasonal events in the area, but the weekend before Halloween at my friends' house was shaping up to be "let's put on costumes and play video games in them."
As a photographer, I wanted very little more than to have something cool to take pictures of; I was really hoping my friends would find something to do so I could get some shots of people masked and glittered on the one day it was socially acceptable.  When I thought I was out of luck, Evan came through.
We decided we would go walk around Northampton dressed in our costumes.  He donned a green army jacket and became James Sunderland from Silent Hill II, while I threw together a red dress and a basket and became little red riding hood.  We drove out to Northampton; certainly people would be walking around in their costumes, right?
"Shaina, nobody's in their costumes. I told you it was too early."
Oops.
We wandered through Thornes and got coffee looking only slightly out of place (pictured above) before we decided to explore streets we had never been down before.  This exploration yielded the knowledge of a new record store, the discovery of a goblin-themed art exhibit, and many cool pictures, which can be seen here.

#2: Election night
I was excited both as a journalist and an American.  Last November was the first time I could vote in a presidential election; I hopped off the bus to the fire station and cast my vote among a throng of other UMass students.  As soon as I got back, I slipped of my civilian hat and threw on my journalism one.  Whatever happened, I was there to get reactions.
My night was filled with runs down to the Collegian office, back up to the Cape Cod Lounge, over to a Dining Commons and back down again.  I live-tweeted, I instagrammed, I photographed my way through what seemed like the longest wait of the year.
The announcement that President Obama had been reelected hit subtly at first, then exploded.  It was announced mid-newsfeed while I was in Berkshire Dining Commons, and seemed to go unnoticed for a minute or two.  The realization rolled slowly over the crowd and soon I was snapping pictures of hugging, yelling and crying.  I had covered my first election.

#1: Seeing stars
I ran into James on the bus. Last year, I wrote a story about his interest in astronomy and his history of watching meteor showers with his father.  It seemed almost fate that I should run into him the night the Leonids shower was going to begin.
James left the bus a stop before me, promising to text me when he was heading out to watch the showers.
When I got the text around 12 that night, Evan, Sabrina and I were halfway through watching Silence of the Lambs for my politics through films class. We paused it, grabbed our coats and headed to the car.  Minutes later, we arrived at James's house, a two-floor dwelling with a garden outside and a baseball diamond across the street.
From the bleachers of the field, the nigh sky was notably clear, and the light pollution as reduced as we could get it. The air was freezing, and I depended on the mug of tea I clutched to keep my fingers warm.
We were out there until the early side of 3, by which time I had counted 4 shooting stars.  Evan dropped me off at my dorm building, where I sat until 4:30 a.m., scanning through my pictures of the starry night.

Looking through my old pictures always manages to energize me about the semesters to come.  Next year's going to be a busy one without doubt, but this doesn't stop me from creating a list of goals for the coming twelve months.  As of now, the top five are as follows:

#1: Bike to Northampton. I've always wanted to follow the bike trail to NoHo some early morning.  I got close last year, turning back right before the bridge over the Connecticut River.  This year, I want to finally make it across.
#2: Hike Mt. Tom. I always see the road signs indicating the exit for Mt. Tom, and I'm always so tempted.  This year, I want to finally plan, get up early enough, and hike the mountain.
#3: More photo shoots.  I finally feel like I'm getting a handle on portraits and want to experiment with what I can do with them.  I'd really like to try more planned photo shoots this year.
#4: Write more.  Whether for work or pleasure, I feel like I've fallen back on photography over the years because I feel comfortable with it. Before I became a photographer, I had dreams of being a writer or author of some sort.  While those goals have shifted, I'd really like to write more on the side, as well as give writing for the Collegian a shot.  This is more of a resolution than a goal; I always say I'm going to start writing, then put it off further.
#5: Internships!  One of the most-stressed aspects of journalism is experience.  I've shot for the Collegian since freshman year, but it's becoming time to get a little more experience out there in the big, scary, real world.

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