One of my favorite things to do on campus is to take pictures. It helps that I’m co-editor in chief of our school’s yearbook, "the Nassau Herald," and that I am always searching for fun and interesting photos to include in the book. But my passion for photography has stemmed from when I was little. Just ask my parents. There are hundreds of photos floating around my house and in every one, there is a giant smile plastered across my face, because I am terrified of being documented in the family albums with a frown or weird look.

Although there is something to just living in the moment, there is also something truly special about being able to look back at those special moments in your life that you always want to remember. I remember that day I got into Princeton, changing into the only orange shirt that I owned at that time (don’t worry I own tons more now), and eating the tiger cake that my family made for me to celebrate.

I remember coming to Princeton Preview and taking the obligatory photo on the steps of Nassau Hall in my brand new Princeton sweatshirt. I remember taking a photo on move in day with my mom before I headed off to Outdoor Action (OA), a pre-orientation program. I remember the first Lawnparties and dressing up in the preppiest outfit I had ever worn. I remember the first day it snowed (I’m from Arizona, snow is a big deal) and taking a picture to crystalize the moment in my mind. I could go on and on about all the amazing memories I have stored in my mind and depicted all over the walls in my room. But instead, frosh, to help you begin your own special photo collection I’ll give you the start of a very long list of photos you should take during this exciting time in your Princeton career.

1. A photo with your class banner
2. Nassau Hall steps – enough said (you’ll want this for the before and after thesis photo)  
3. Matching family photo on tiger steps (yes, you should all be in Princeton gear for this)
4. First day of school (your parents will want this one)
5. All Lawnparties
6. Outdoor Action /Community Action/Fall athlete program
7. One of your first sporting events
8. Any Broadway trips
9. Fall!! The trees here are beautiful. Take tons of pretty photos
10. Halloween (or Princetaween, as we call it here)
11. First snowfall (not optional for west coasters, negotiable for east coasters)
12. Orange and Black Ball
13. First Dean's Date, a pre-exam deadline for papers and projects
14. Any trips you go on through Princeton
15. Semi-formals and formals
16. Noteworthy visitors who come to campus

In this (almost) last blog, a recap on my last days at Princeton!

My last class until who-knows-when was ENG 358: Children's Literature, a course where we studied books like "Alice in Wonderland," "Where the Wild Things Are," and the Harry Potter series. It was a good way to go.  

But still, at the end of lecture, standing up with my friends from those wooden lecture-seats in McCosh 50, chatting as we zipped up our bags, knowing it was the last time I would do so as a Princeton student was pretty bittersweet. After all, this has been a place of incredible friendships and growth ... 

...and a place of compelling academic rigor. 

A place of incredible artistic opportunity, like illustrating a grizzled elephant for Pulitzer Prize-winning author Paul Muldoon's spoken word group, Rogue Oliphant...

...and a place with awesome platforms to share my experiences (like writing for a certain admission blog for three years, perhaps?).

This school has been a home like no other. But like most school experiences, it ends!

Oh, but how Princeton ends.

Reunions and Commencement

I wish I could describe how my last few days of Princeton were all weighed with a sense of gravitas, of perfect goodbyes, sweet and full realizations of what we were leaving behind.

But really, they were a whirlwind of orange: dancing, cheering and saying "goodbye" at Princeton Reunions, where thousands of Princeton alums from all years flock back to campus for a few days of reliving the glory years with renewed spirit.

For me, Reunions were a crazy few days of running into people who, for the past year, had seemed to disappear from their usual haunts around campus. But then here they were again, sitting around you in the Quad Library, loudly complaining about finance or messing with the suit of armor, just as if no time had passed!

Reunions was dancing under the tents. And late into the night, it was jumping on a half-deflated bounce castle with a group of friends and losing each other, laughing, in the enveloping red folds. 

It was walking behind people with a secret happiness, admiring the the Class Jacket you designed for 2016.

It's was the sweaty craziness of P-Rade, when all the alums from class years parade down Elm Drive, which ends with the members of the Great Class of 2016 running onto Poe field. 

Then there is Baccalaureate and Class Day, where you listen to speakers extol the excitement of graduation. It's also where you play games with your friends. For example, whoever complains about the hot temperature in the Chapel first gets to be lovingly and viciously pinched by the others.

There also was getting proposed to by your best friend and the guy you love most in the world. (That gets its own section in a follow-up blog post!)

You attend award ceremonies and receptions with brownies and strawberries, and before you know it...

...you and your friends are passing around bobby pins, trying to pin these fancy hats to your hair.

Finally, you are lining up with the other fancy hats, bobbing in a sea of people who you know are your classmates, but who also just make you realize how in four years, you only scratched the surface of meeting fellow 2016-ers.

You're sitting under the little shade of a tree (lucky you!), enjoying the speeches of your classmates and faculty, getting pinched or pinching your friends occasionally, craning your head to see if you can spot your loved ones on the sidelines, and then realizing you sat on the wrong side of the lawn. (But don't worry! You'll see them soon enough.)

Your mind is on the tall black gate just behind you--the FitzRandolph Gate. You walked in through the main gates as a freshman, wide-eyed, a little skinny and awkward, but ready for what Princeton held for you. And in the years since, you've bought into the legend that if you pass through the center gate before you graduate, your chances of actually graduating are doomed.

So for four years, you've used the side gates with seeming nonchalance, but really with steeled determination.

And then your University president says a closing phrase in Latin and a flock hats go up in the air. People are standing. The music is triumphant You and your friends are laughing as you are pushed in the waves that bring you closer and closer to the Gate.

You share a last few moments on the Princeton side, shouting happy, silly things at your friend, who is recording and narrating the moment you pass right under those gates.

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I guess you've graduated!   

You loop back into campus, hug your family, pick up your diploma and eat some food.

You say goodbye to those friends you love so well, at least the ones you can find before they leave. You ask your mom to take pictures of you with them, and find later she's taken pictures of your last hugs as well. 

Your room is packed in boxes, your car is heaving away from Princeton with the weight of your things and memories. 

And when you wake up the next morning in a house instead of a dorm room, you remember your friends are scattering to the winds already. And there's a strange feeling in your chest. I went to Princeton. It's past tense now, like a dream past!

But what a good dream it was. 

Part 2 of senior year blog catch-up: the VIS (visual arts) thesis show! 

You might remember from a past blog, my senior independent work did not end with an English thesis. Two weeks after I submitted "In a Style Entirely New," I dove into the work needed to finish my VIS show that was scheduled to be up two weeks later.  

And what was the show, exactly? A story, made by placing sequential paintings around the gallery.

I've been forever interested in exploring childhood, time, memory and what it means for my own life to be part of a larger narrative created by an artist. These themes (hopefully!) played out in the story of two people entering a subway. The daughter is separated from her mother, ages through the journey...

...really, the best way I can explain the art and storyline is to show it to you. I've dedicated a page on my portfolio site to a digital version of the show, so feel free to check it out! The online version is not the same experience as seeing it in person, but I hope you still enjoy. 

A quick rundown of how the actual show went down:

Planning and thumbnails

I knew pretty early on in the year the gist of the story I wanted to tell. Some of the earliest steps included sketching the panels of the story on paper, then cutting and pinning them onto foam core.

I had roughly drawn the architecture of the room on the boards, so I could move pieces and plan how the story would unfold. My ideas developed through sketching and revising, plus conversations with amazing faculty, including my primary adviser Eve Ascheim, and my secondary advisers Joe Scanlan and Kurt Kauper! 

Drawing

Most of the process boiled down to hours and hours of drawing during the year. Well, especially in the last few weeks before the show, but also during the year.

I used Photoshop to draw on my personal computer, but I also worked in Princeton's New Media Center, which has giant gorgeous monitors and super fast computers. Once I knew what I wanted to draw, it was a matter of blocking out the sketch then going back and refining:  

This went down for 90+ panels.

Printing, printing, printing

Major shout-out to Rick and Steve for their help and patience in ordering paper and suppling ink! 

I used the 24" printer all the way on the top floor of the art building, and the 44" printer down in its dark bowels. Quality takes time, which means these quality printers are kind of slow! I spent some long nights drawing in the pockets of time between printings: jumping between the two printers and setting off jobs, correcting measurements I had messed up, trimming edges, and hoping that a printer wouldn't die on me in these precious days before set-up.

This is definitely a stage I'm happy is over, but there was also a lot of joy in seeing the work come out so beautifully!

Setting up

Have I mentioned that I have amazing, amazing people in my life? As in, the kind of people who smilingly give their time and energy to help you, asking for nothing back? ​The kind of people who climb up and down scaffolds (sometimes in ways of some questionable safety) to make sure your art--even the art placed inconveniently high--looks good?

Who peel back countless little command strip papers and place them adhesive on your prints? And who take breaks only to work on their junior paper?

Who you ask to paint the wall black, and who then proceed to carefully dab the corners with small brushes to make sure the job is beautiful? 

Who will stay with you in that gallery for multiple days even when their own final presentations are due, who brings you tasty food snacks, who suggests where to place the work, who laughs and sings musicals along with you until the job is done?

The kind of people who spend hours with you, constructing a frame out of foam core, sweeping up the little white slips of paper that cover the floor like freshly fallen snow, measuring panels perfectly, dancing to the music we put on in the background, trying to make the sketchy ventilation room and spray-on adhesive work, holding up pieces of art to a wall and adjusting till they are straight, who buy lunch for the gang and laughingly wave off your thanks? Who make what should have been a very stressful set-up weekend some of the most joyful days you had at Princeton?

I know those kind of friends! 

  And I know I can't thank them enough for the blessing that was their time and encouragement. They are the only reason the show exists!

Then the gallery opened

On April 21, 2016 the show opened in the Lucas Gallery! 

I shared the gallery floor space with the super cool Amalya Megerman (whose poster for "Megerman Beach" is on the left).

This concept and show had been in my head for so long, so it was amazing to see it physically in a space. I took a very informal video walk-through, if you want more of a sense of the space. 

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The VIS program also sets you up with a show reception, buying delicious food spreads for you to offer your friends and admirers that come to look at the art that evening. So fancy! 

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I loved talking with people about how they followed the story, answer their questions about the blue swirl, or ask them what they saw in it. There were people that came up to me with real tears running down their face, and I had a friend who came to me with three different ways to read the story, including an interpretation that had you walk backwards! 

Do you know how crazy it is that just for being in the VIS program, you get incredible artists to advise you, a generous stipend for supplies, a studio space to call your own, access to amazing technical resources and staff, a gallery space for whatever type of show you want to put up, a communications office who creates posters, postcards, and promotes your work around the community, and a whole host of faculty who just want you to make the best show possible? I think about it and realize, "Whoa! That is not real life!

" 

But it is something amazing, and something I am so grateful to have taken part in. 

How to say goodbye

After the week was over, it was time for the show to come down and make way for the next week's student!

Before: 

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After (almost done): 

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In some ways, it was painful to take down the show: after all, the panels represented many, many hours of work and so much joy in the installation and reception. 

And yet, sometimes it is good to let the time pass as it does. 

And then move forward!

Hello from the other side of the FitzRandolph gates!

I did indeed graduate Princeton a couple months ago (don't worry, that all worked out). Although, the last months of school were so crazy, I had no chance for closure on this blog! Since I'd really love to share how my time at Princeton wrapped up, I'm going to make a few final posts.

First up, an update on the great and terrifying:

The senior thesis is the culmination of a year's research, thought, and writing. You might remember I was sketching out a senior thesis on Jane Austen's juvenilia back in October? I am very happy to tell you that by its April 2016 deadline, it was finished. And I loved it! 

Also, it had pictures.

What was it about again?

For only writing six complete novels, Jane Austen has done pretty well at drawing a crowd and marking her place as oh, I don't know, an unparalleled cultural and literary phenomenon. 

And yet despite her oeuvre's fame, nestled into the collection well before bright and sparkling "Pride and Prejudice," is a body of work that has little public voice. My thesis explored the stories and writing of Jane Austen commonly known as the juvenilia, work written while she was eleven to seventeen years old.  

The first 30 pages of my thesis presented a brief look at Jane Austen, then examined the criticism and nature of these earliest texts (which are amazing, as I hope you'll see). The next 70 or so pages of my thesis explored four specific texts critically, plus a creative component. What does that mean? That the English department is the best department.

I. Bringing "The Mystery" to Life

In theater, characters typically act in the paradigm where no audience exists; Jane Austen's short play "The Mystery" takes that trope and runs. Most of the play consists of characters whispering to each other, blithely unbothered by the fact that the plot is a total mystery to the audience.

You can find the play online in the middle of this article!

Since the Austen family performed with each other as an early version of home theater, for the creative portion of this section, I brought the play home to my own family. I performed "The Mystery" with them over Christmas, and then edited and analyzed what it meant to give bodies to the elusive, yet rollicking script. 

Some snapshots of the play:

Scene the First, as I introduced from the window. 

A great way to start off a play.

Those are indeed napkin cravats. Also our cat, Yupi! 

And what did Daphne whisper, in a voice inaudible to the camera? Who knows.

II. Defenestration with "Frederic and Elfrida"

We tend to have a very prim view of our famous authoress. But the visual language in the late 18th century caricatures that were around young Jane Austen were far from proper. Check out Mark Bill's comparison of a comic satirizing the royal class in the late 18th century, and then the late 19th century. 

One is definitely more exciting!

Flavors of the caricature style show up in the juvenilia's "A History of England,"  illustrated by Jane Austen's older sister Cassandra.  

I analyzed "Frederica and Elfrida" through the lens of 18th century prints, hoping to capture and enjoy the wild energy and exaggeration that lies laughing under her careful language.

For example: "From this period, the intimacy between the Families of Fitzroy, Drummond, and Falknor daily increased, till at length it grew to such a pitch, that they did not scruple to kick one another out of the window on the slightest provocation."

Or how any classic, dramatic beauty in Charlotte's suicide - a very Ophelia, river death -- is interrupted by the name of that elegant body of water. 

This was a fun chapter indeed! 

III. The Sweet Deceit of "Love and Freindship"

You've definitely seen the art of C.E. Brock and Hugh Thompson, Jane Austen's early champions of illustrations. They feature beautifully proportioned ladies and gentlemen, neatly dappled in watercolors and often framed by decal of curling ribbons. 

I don't claim to have their artistic prowess, but I did have a ton of fun parodying the style in contrast to young Austen's story, "Love and Freindship" (yes, spelled "e" before "i") in particular.  

When Augustus takes money from his father, he didn't steal from his desk, he "gracefully purloined from his father's escritore."

Things don't end well for the stories' beaux:

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Laura and company come across a terrible scene of "two gentlemen, most elegantly attired, but weltering in their own blood." Note how she first notices their dapper fashion, though!

IV. A Day Well Spent with "The Beautifull Cassandra"

In the very last section, I dove into the delicious "The Beautifull Cassandra" (yes, two "L"s. She was an idiosyncratic young speller!).

It is a novel of twelve tiny chapters, each about two sentences long and filled with laughter. On her adventure, Cassandra steals a bonnet, passes up a beautiful man,

knocks over a chef as she devours ice cream,

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and goes on a whole host of other adventures! Since my critical portion explored how this brings new meaning to "children's literature," I printed the creative portion in a small, spiral-bound book.

Turning it in

After many long discussions with my amazing adviser, Professor Claudia Johnson, months of research, writing, drawing, filming, my first ever all-nighter as I put on the finishing touches, going over notes made by the amazing Katherine Hawkins who proofread my 100+ pages twice...

...I turned in my thesis and creative books to the English department!  

You know that feeling of when you turn something in thinking, "my body and mind feel like death, but I am so happy right now?" That's what this moment was for me.

Looking back, I'm not entirely sure how it all came together, but I think of the thesis with real love for the literature, gratitude to the English department for letting me pursue a creative-critical thesis, and a smile when I think of the happy desperation my fellow English major buddy and I shared, scooting around the library on those rolling office chairs, chasing and poking each other as midnight approached. Truly, a thesis is a sign of my academic maturation! 

Also, I sliced my finger on a page just before I wrote my name, so the last page the Princeton honor pledge literally signed in a little blood.

After I finished my last midterm exam, I was definitely ready to be done with the books for a while, and on the first evening of break, my friend Poupée and I went to see The Mousetrap, a play at Princeton's award-winning McCarter Theater.

As I walk down the sacred halls of Target, I am reminded of my favorite time of year—school supply shopping. I remember getting the list of supplies in elementary school: four tissue boxes, a pack of highlighters, colored pencils, scissors … I always tried to get the best deals, searching through the weekly ads every Sunday morning when they were posted. However, when I got to college, I realized the same type of school supply shopping was just not going to cut it anymore. No teacher was telling me how best I should attack his or her class. I had to discover for myself what was going to work best for me. Was it the binder? The folder? Or just cramming papers into my backpack (This final option has never worked for me.)

As corny as it sounds, this idea of school supply shopping is very much like the college process itself. No one is there to tell you how you should spend your time or what you should buy. For most people, it’s the first opportunity to live on your own, decide what you want to eat, what clubs you want to attend, what time you want to go to sleep. Everything is trial and error. And while you might try something for a few weeks, you may realize that it’s not what you want continue. That’s totally okay. College, especially the beginning of college, is all about trying new things and seeing what sticks.

So the best advice I can give you is to go on a shopping trip. Put a bunch of items in your cart, both new and old, and see what works best for you. And I’ll be honest, I brought binders all the way from Arizona, because that’s what I had always used. But after a few days of using them, I went to the U-Store and bought folders, because that’s what worked betterr for me in college.

To be a Princetonian is to have a voice and know how to use it.

My six fellow Bridge Year Brazil participants and I have spent the past seven months living with homestay families in a community in Salvador called Candeal.