Do you know the band “The Cinematic Orchestra”? They gained quite a bit of popularity within the past couple of years. Their music is featured in commercials and TV shows. One of their songs is very special to me. One single line from their song “To Build A Home” helped me to describe the feeling I always had while travelling around the world, but which I just could not put into words. Let me explain to you what that one line means to me and how it is important to describe myself to a certain extend:

“Home is a place where you don’t feel lost.” So why leave home? Why expose yourself to the lostness?

In my eyes, the lostness is somehow calming. It’s fulfilling. Whoever is lost is compelled to find himself again. I get the feeling that I need that sometimes. Similar to people who try to schematise their life through the idea of continuous shifting in prosperity and dolorousness, I have to lose and find myself.

To lie in bed at night, knowing that every person you know, you like, you love is thousands of miles away may seem like a nightmare to some but to me it’s a feeling I wouldn’t want to miss for the world. Sentimental music and the dim lights of a far away city on the dark horizon of the night add to that feeling. To have nobody, sometimes is more satisfying to me than to have somebody.

When I return home, my travels usually appear quite austere. They make me appreciate what I have at home. But one question will always remain: What would I miss more: Having a home or having no home?

PS: Remember to be the weirdest you can possibly be.

On Monroe in a quad that evokes a mystical feeling,

You’ll encounter a library for students in law.

Let your eyes drift from your paper and up to the ceiling,

And you’ll find yourself astounded in awe.

The enchanted wooden shelves

And the ceiling ornate with flat dim lights on heavy chandelier

Are only a representation of their past selves,

For they are more magical than they appear.

Before calamity when things went tragic

There were pretty witches and warlocks who practiced some spells not to be found

Such beauty that roared with magic

Now screams without a sound.

In years past on the street called Monroe,

There was a superhuman haven that no person ever saw.

Into here stumbled a young wizard who had potential to show,

He with a name of Yim Yarbaugh.

Wandered the boy into a gala of potion

Where he was expected for a surprise just for him

In this place illuminated by fireflies in lamp and surrounded by portraits in motion.

The only being destined to find this world was young little Yim.

A vigilant dragon stayed on guard all through the day and all through the night

To protect the inhabitants from human discovery.

One day, the fairy of sleepiness robbed the dragon of conscious sight.

What happens next exceeds any hope of bringing the haven back to full recovery

On his way to a football game, a student in law encountered this camp.

What once was an enchanted encryption

Is lost forever and left were the spells and lightning bug lamp

To be replaced by bulbs and records of jurisdiction.

To say the team was undefeated would make the score keepers contradictors.

To the big house, young Yim he took

In hopes that his magic would lead the losers to become victors.

Is he a savior or is he a crook?

Maybe these ideas will touch that brilliant mind of yours.

Or maybe you will ponder these words with utter mental confliction

As you realize no one mentioned them on the campus tours.

I must tell you most of this story is only fiction.

College is a world unto itself. It has unique rituals, food, and even clothing. We revel in our culture, coming together every Saturday in a ceremonial march to the Big House, our common temple, and raise our fists into the air in unison. “HAIL!”, shout a hundred thousand voices. “HAIL TO THE VICTORS!”. Young or old, we are together. And when, not if, we win, we celebrate in thousand little nooks and crannies in Ann Arbor. On Saturday evening, no matter how cold, you will find a welcoming party awaiting. Even outside of those special days in the autumn months, there is a sense of unity among the student body and all the staff on campus. When you don’t know what to say, you ask about school. When an awkward silence strikes, you complain about class or the dining hall food or the lingering hangover from the raging fraternity party last night. There are endless branching references, but all come back to the University, to the thing that connects a million strangers from all over the world to this one special place. When you are on campus, it seems like the outside world ceases to exist and that this little bubble is everything.

Stepping out of that bubble during Thanksgiving break was a shock. It was a shock not only borne of the lack of overtly friendly squirrels (although that was certainly one factor), but also of the sudden lack of structure. Abruptly I was cut off from all the little things that had come to dominate my schedule. Math homework was safely tucked away. Backpack was left sadly abandoned beside the bed. I didn’t even need to hurry to the dining hall at certain times or make sure to attend a club meeting. And I realized, as I did during every break from school, that I had nothing to do with the free time that I had been so eagerly anticipating. School has been a part of my life for more than 12 years now. I may have graduated from one grade to another, but I have never outgrown the mindset. Always, it’s the next short term goal, the next assignment. I think Thanksgiving is most important because it reminds me more than ever that as overwhelming as school seems at times, there are truly more important things than homework (No, it is not binge watching the latest TV show).

So as I sat watching TV, surrounded by friends and family, I still could not help but think about homework. I don’t think I will ever shake that off (I’m a perfectionist by nature). But if I have learned anything over the course of school it hasn’t just been calculus. No, it’s been the friends and community I’ve gained along the way that has made school important to me. It’s coming to the classroom and smiling at the teacher beaming back. That is what I’m going to miss most.

Looking through the lens of a camera, a photographer can capture anything they see in their own perspective. An everyday object can be photographed in a way that makes it completely unfamiliar. Ten photographers could take a picture of the same flower or table or person and each picture would turn out different from the others, even in the slightest way. In doing this, a photographer displays their view and personality to the world.
As an “aspiring” photographer, I’ve noticed this in my own work. I look at whatever I’m photographing and decide what is the most important part and how I want to show it in my photograph.
When shooting portraits, people often focus on the model in the photo. But the photographer behind the photo is just as important as the person being photographed, as they can capture feelings that that person might not even be aware that they are expressing. One of the privileges of being a photographer is having the chance to capture someone’s raw emotions. An outsider can see someone in a way that they could never see themselves.
Because of this, photographers are often the type of people that prefer to be behind the camera instead of in front of it. While there is an understanding and appreciation for the subject of the photo, most photographers are more comfortable expressing themselves through the lens. Personally, I find it extremely difficult to be the focus of a photo, but the second I switch positions I am at ease.
In addition to the artistic side of photography, there are extensive technical aspects as well. Learning how to manipulate the camera and its settings- working with the aperture, shutter speed, focus, and exposure- is a complicated feat that takes intense practice to master. I appreciate photography more now that I know what goes into capturing a photo. As I continue to learn about photography, I work towards the goal of mastering the settings so that I can manipulate them without hesitation, allowing me to capture an image exactly as I want it.
So the next time you see a photo that you really like, think about the photographer behind it and what they did to capture that image and what they are trying to show you.