Before I left for class this morning, I knew what to expect as I continued packing by backpack, except this time throwing in a few extra things. I grabbed my pencil case housing all the sketching tools I could need, even though I only really use the HB pencil. I also packed my colored pencil set in case I got bored of gray and white. My sketchbook was small enough to fit in the bag with my other academic supplies, but just big enough to overwhelm me when I stared at the white, empty page.

When I walked through the classroom door, my peers were already settling into their activities: typewriting, coloring, crocheting. I unpacked my supplies and arranged them in front of me as I observed my classmates. The chatter of the class was typical and familiar, so I chimed in and giggled with the group every so often. I was enjoying conversing with my classmates when a foreign sound broke up our sentences. I have obviously heard the clacking of a keyboard before, so that does not grab my attention as this did. But the sounds of a typewriter, I have never heard. The clicking was different than a keyboard, more deeply pitched and significant. Each punching of a letter resounded as the paper moved from right to left. I wasn’t the only one who found the deep clicks intriguing. A recognizable member of the honors program staff, Alicia, peeked her head in the door in disbelief. She reminisced over the memories those sounds brought back to her, ones of her childhood and college days. These new noises interested me enough that I left my seat to get a closer look at this aged technology. I admired its construction and observed it carefully for a minute before returning back to my sketching.

I tried to settle into my analogue activity by opening my sketch book to a fresh page and laying out my colored pencils. I picked a random color in hopes to spark some creativity. I thought and stared at the page for too long. I kept getting distracted by the conversation around me. I consider myself to be a social person, so having a time during the day where I am encouraged to socialize, kept my mouth moving. When I wasn’t talking, I tried to return back to my empty page, but still nothing came to mind that convinced me to move my pencil.

At one point during the class, it was suggested that the record player be turned on, and classmates quickly voiced their artist recommendations. Everyone waited patiently for the music to begin. The vinyl spun as the album “Tapestry” by Carole King filled the air. The first song everyone knew, “I Feel The Earth Move,” and a few quietly sang along. This class day introduced me to not only one new sound, but two, as I have not heard the echo of a record player before. The song was slightly more muffled than I was used to when listening with my headphones, but I liked it. It was a cozier sound, that was just loud enough to create a warmth in the room, blending with the chatter and enhancing the ambiance.

Music always tends to put me in a productive mood and I finally started putting color on my blank page. I drew shapes and lines and dots, starting from the center of the page bounding outwards. Some shapes were colored in, others were just empty circles or curvy zigzags. I started, but quickly drifted my way back into the conversation. I added shapes here and there but mostly focused on what everyone was gossiping about.

This experience brought me to the realization that when I draw or color, I typically do it in solitude. The last time I was in any sort of drawing class was more than four years ago, making it difficult for me to be creative and also have a conversation at the same time. It is possible that I can perform both activities, but my work turns out less impressive and precise than I would like it to be, leaving it unfinished. It was slightly unusual for me to be in a classroom setting where I did not have to pay attention to the things going on around me. This fact did not prompt me to focus more on my analogue activity, instead I found myself still aware of my surroundings. Unlike some of my classmates, I am not studying art, so being surrounded by good conversation and laughter inhibited my creativity.

I learned that my ideal analogue activity is a form of learning, learning about people. Hearing something new I haven’t known about a friend or peer never fails to interest me. Observing, listening, and socializing keeps me connected and grounded, enriching my most powerful object, my brain. I have a great love for people and relationships. To understand them and care for them blossoms the love I have to give.

Ever since we were children, my sister and I have always been inseparable. Perhaps it’s because we are identical twins, or maybe it’s because we only ever had each other. Mother and Father left behind little evidence of their existence apart from little trinkets and old belongings here and there. One item in particular held their memory the most: an old scrapbook documenting Mother and Father’s trip to Egypt. They were young and full of spirit, embracing each other in front of a landmark. I can feel the love and emotion radiating through the photograph. I suppose Mother and Father became busy (and a little forgetful) since the scrapbook was only filled to the second page, one page with two pictures of the desert and the other, being the only picture I have of them. The landmark that stood magnificently behind them was unlike any structure Sister and I have seen here in New York City, or anywhere for that matter. It was a simple yet complex object, a triangular prism, that started wide at the bottom and came to a perfect point in the sky. I couldn’t quite make out the exact color of the pyramid since the photo was black and white, but It appeared to be light in color, lighter than Mother’s tanned skin, but darker than the white clouds above. I couldn’t make out much else from the old picture but ever since we saw it, Sister and I knew where we needed to go.

Our fascination with this mysterious structure started out as our favorite game to play as children, where Sister was always the bold, strong leader of our adventures and I was the happy-go-lucky explorer who really only knew how to read our hand drawn maps. But slowly the longing for Egypt faded, becoming an unreachable destiny, a path never taken, a stone left unturned. We grew up some more, held jobs, and looked pretty for long enough for us to leave Grandmother’s tiny apartment and make homes for ourselves with our husbands. Sister was a teacher at the local elementary school and I found work at a nearby bookstore. We each enjoyed our jobs, even though there wasn’t much else for us to pursue. Sister had a child first just before I did, a sweet little girl. To my surprise, my child was two children, twin boys to be exact. We made an effort to allow the three children to grow up together, so they knew they would always have someone, just like Sister and I always had each other.

Sister and I were about to turn 23, so I was on the lookout for the perfect birthday gift. While restocking the dusty bookshelves, I mindlessly pulled books one by one from a big cardboard box, until something caught my eye. As I was reaching for the next novel, I noticed a familiar pointed shape. Towards the bottom of the box I dug out a thick book, and on its cover, the same pyramid behind Mother and Father. All at once the desire to explore and the longing for adventure came rushing back. I knew what I was getting Sister for our birthday.

At the end of the work day I took off to the nearest travelling agency. They questioned my destination choice but helpfully directed me to the harbor. A voyage out to sea was an ambitious mode of travel, but so what? Isn’t that what a journey is about? I left in a rush, feeling more spontaneous than ever, and set out for the water. I knew I was nearing the harbor when the air started to smell less like automobile fumes and hot dogs and more like low tide and fish.

I barely remember the trip home, as my mind was taken over by my forgotten childhood imagination. The thrill of excitement consumed me as I held the boat tickets in my right pocket. I could picture it, the pyramid, surrounded by a flat monochromatic landscape, rising tall and strong from the dusty earth. Finally, our dream is not so far from us.

3 weeks later, there we were, standing on the ship pulling out from the harbor, and I still couldn’t believe Sister agreed to embark on this long awaited exhibition. I suppose she still had the same deep wanderlust as I, even when our fascination slipped away from us. We waved goodbye to the children and our husbands until we could no longer see the bittersweet looks on their faces.

11 days at sea went by. We spent all our time thinking about the moment we finally reached land once more, in hopes it would come sooner. On the final day of the voyage, Sister and I trembled with excitement. There it was. The land of mystery and love. We have finally arrived in Egypt.

It was much more grand than I could have ever imagined, taking our breath away. Each rectangular rock fit together perfectly, making me wonder if one block was removed the whole prism would come tumbling down. The cracks and weathering were noticeable too, but somehow its aging made the pyramid even more beautiful and impressive. Sister and I stared at the pyramid for what seemed like forever, until Sister snapped out of it and noticed a large structure behind the pyramid that appeared to be ascendable. We were both wearing flowy skirts and our strapped high heeled shoes, making us ill prepared for the dry heat of the air and toughness of the rock. Our legs ached as we reached the top of the platform. Sister and I marvelled once more about the place we knew so well in our mind’s eye. I couldn’t comprehend the sight before me. All the years of wonder and curiosity has built up to this moment.

The longer we stared and baffled over this masterpiece, the more we realized travelling all this way hasn’t brought upon us any answers, and connection, or any new information about Mother and Father. For a second I grew angry; I had sincerely convinced myself that this moment would have the power to rid all the years of longing and sadness from my mind. Feelings of mourning the loss of Mother and Father grew more apparent than ever. I stood unsettlingly still, until I broke free from my thoughts when a man entered our field of view. I watched as he sat in front of us, legs crossed, in the perfect spot for viewing the pyramid. As he sat, he faced away from the pyramid, staring at something else. Sister and I looked at eachother, confused, then back at him. We turned away from the big triangle to see what this man could possibly be more interested in. He breathed deeply as he watched the sun set over the tannish yellow desert, creating a hazy glow over the land. I felt a rush of calm release, melting the anger and grief away. The thing we came all this way to discover held the intangible reality that might bring us a piece of our parents. The soft fading light of the sun washed away the false reality, leaving only peace and acceptance. Sister and I stood there in silence as we embraced this shared moment of existential bliss.

It was time for us to move onwards, carrying our newfound wisdom, without forgetting who we came from.

Works Cited:

Photo:
https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2018/01/weird-wonderful-photos-from-the-archives/551378/#img12

Information:
https://study.com/learn/lesson/women-1920s-roles-jobs.html#:~:text=Women’s%20Jobs%20in%20the%201920s,-The%20United%20States&text=Women%20worked%20primarily%20as%20factory,typists%2C%20operators%2C%20and%20manufacturing.
https://drstephenrobertson.com/digitalharlemblog/maps/childcare-in-1920s-harlem/
https://metroairportnews.com/travel-by-air-the-golden-years-1920s-1960s/#:~:text=Airliners%20carried%20less%20than%2020,and%20hats%20to%20keep%20warm.
https://www.altexsoft.com/blog/travel-in-the-1920s/
https://vafsjay.quora.com/How-long-did-it-take-for-ships-coming-from-Europe-to-arrive-in-America-in-the-early-1920s#:~:text=In%20the%20early%201920s%2C%20the%20average%20voyage%20from%20Europe%20to,%2C%20speed%2C%20and%20other%20circumstances.

My favorite pair of sneakers are my New Balance 654 tennis shoes. I purchased them at a charity store two years ago for three dollars. They’re comfortable and durable and have a retro sort of look. I wear them basically every day. The only issue is that they are disgusting to look at. While the shoes themselves are perfectly intact, the paint has all but flaked off entirely. My shoes look like they have a terrible skin condition. They weren’t in the greatest condition when I bought them used, and the situation has only gotten worse.  

I’m not sure exactly when this style of New Balance was manufactured, but I do know they can no longer be bought new. I have made it my mission to find a new (used) pair online. It’s been a long and harrowing process. When I was home for Thanksgiving, I sat down for another online search. I got into a comfortable position in the recliner, my feet donned in thick, fuzzy socks, a cup of coffee on the table next to me. To my back was the big bay window that faces my front yard. Snow blanketed the neighborhood. I looked up new balance 654 size 6 on Google and scrolled through the images tab. Clicking on individual images shows a grid of related items, which I checked out as well. My options were very limited. There aren’t many New Balance 654 tennis shoes being sold online, and none of them are a women’s size 6. The closest thing I’ve gotten to what I’m looking for is a size 7. Once or twice during my search I thought I had found a listing of the correct size. I excitedly clicked to Poshmark, thinking I had found just the thing I was looking for, just for my heart to sink as I scrolled through the listing, realizing the size had been labeled incorrectly by the seller. However, my disappointment wasn’t long-lasting, and right away I x-ed out of the site, banishing the offending tab from my laptop screen. 

For the browsing portion of this assignment, I went to two different locations. First, I stopped by a Marshalls. I was on the lookout for a new pair of silver hoops to replace a hoop that I had lost recently. I prefer Marshalls when it’s not so busy, and the day I went it was packed with holiday shoppers. This made the experience less enjoyable. The second shopping location was a charity shop–the very same thrift store where I had found my New Balance sneakers. I love thrifting (it’s sustainable and cheap), and this particular thrift store is one of my favorites. It’s located inside a converted duplex on a quiet residential street. While I didn’t have any particular item I was looking for, the trip was successful, and I left with four clothing items and a pair of earrings. The total cost was under $20, and this made me very happy. I also tried on many things that either didn’t fit or I realistically didn’t think I would actually wear. I went with my mom on both shopping trips. I like shopping with her because we pick out things that we think the other would like.  

Looking back at my observations and reactions during both experiments, I can come to a few conclusions. Shopping online definitely has its advantages. I like the comfort of shopping without ever having to leave my couch, and I also like that I have the ability to cross-reference prices across different sites. I even have an extension on my laptop that applies any discounts at check-out. But online shopping, or scrolling, also has some glaring issues. Clicking different links and having many different tabs open quickly clogs up my laptop interface and becomes visually overwhelming. When shopping online, you must account for shipping costs and other fees. Shipping can be especially high on secondhand sites like Depop, Poshmark, and Ebay. Lastly, shopping for clothing or shoes online does not allow you to try things on. Although I don’t purchase many clothes online, when I do, I will typically purchase an item in two sizes, so I am able to determine which fits better.  

In person shopping, or browsing, is more engaging and has a social component to it that scrolling does not. When I go shopping with my mom and sister, it is less about spending money, and more about spending time with each other. I would consider a disadvantage of in-person shopping to be that stores can get really busy, especially around the holidays, and this can make having a good shopping experience more difficult.  

Experiment 1: Scrolling

When I first heard of this assignment, I thought of two things: what should I look into buying that would benefit me and be of use, and wow, I’m so glad that this project is when all the Black Friday sales are going on. 

It didn’t take too long for me to settle on an object. I’ve had the same pink bedsheets since my freshman year in college, and, the other day, I stumbled across a photo of my bed at that time. At the time, my bedsheets were a bright, eye-catching pink, with little pink hearts adorning the top. 

The same bedsheets are now incredibly faded, with the hearts turned into distorted, bleach-stained blobs. Next semester will be my last at SUNY New Paltz, so this wasn’t just about practicality—this bedding had been with me through the ups and downs of college. It felt symbolic to start fresh as I approach graduation.

And so, I turned to online shopping. I’m a chronic window shopper, so I already knew what websites to look at, what filters to put, and how exactly to get the good deals. 

For the sake of quick shipping (the mailroom will be closing soon!), I immediately went to Amazon. Within seconds, I had more options than I could process, and the variety was both exciting and overwhelming.

I initially typed out “pink and white bedding”, clicking the search key with little trepidation. True to my search, the first 20 or so results showed a variety of different types of pink bedding. They all were rated about 4.4/5 stars, which seemed like a good thing. 

However, a lot of the reviews were a mixed bag. Reviews like “These sheets are the best thing ever!” were followed by “1/10, would not recommend ever.” It was hard to determine what was the truth and how exactly bedsheets could garner such a low rating. 

After the first 20 or so searches, the beddings stopped being pink and white. Sometimes they were only pink, other times they were only white. There were often red and black sheets scattered in there. If I were more of an adventurous person, maybe I would’ve checked those out. However, if I couldn’t see them in person, I felt no need to search for something I wasn’t specifically looking for. 

Shopping online always feels impersonal to me. I love being able to touch the items and run my fingers along them to see if they have any divets. Additionally, clicking “Add to Cart” didn’t carry the same satisfaction as physically selecting an item and carrying it to the check out. 

Once Amazon failed me, I bounced between other websites. JCPenney, Target, Macy’s… the whole 9 yards. I was met with frustration when I couldn’t find anything whose appearance and reviews matched my ideal bedding set. 

As I scrolled through these websites and viewed the deals, I reflected on the old sheets that I had bought for my first dorm. It was nice to be able to replace them at this point — especially with all the deals! I did feel a bit nostalgic at the concept, but a bit disappointed too, since I couldn’t seem to find anything even when granted an endless maze of options.

I decided to give myself about an hour or so to search. If I didn’t find anything reasonable during that time, I would get ready to look for new bedding in person. I’m fortunate enough to live in New York City, so there are plenty of clothing stores around that I could check out. This online method was more for seeing how convenient this process could be. 

I didn’t end up buying any of the sheet sets I found online. Despite them looking nice, it was different to determine whether or not they’d be right for me. I sew so I take fabric quality very seriously. Because of that, I didn’t feel right picking something that I’d basically be living on. This process seemed like convenience came at the cost of that initial connection, and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice that for something I’d be using so often.

Experiment 2: Browsing

Armed with my Black Friday sales determination, my bedsheet journey continued! 

New York City does have a lot of stores, but its mall scene is quite lacking. Because of that, I ended up venturing to the Newport Mall in New Jersey. Whenever I say that I go to New Jersey to shop, I always get weird looks, but I promise that this mall is worth it! 

I continued this journey on the day of Black Friday itself, so I had expected the stores to be crazy and/or empty of items. Part of that was true — the store was bustling with shoppers, carts filled with discounted TVs and holiday decorations. However, there was still plenty of stock left, and I was able to happily zigzag in between all the stores. 

Macy’s and target proved to be busts. Though their selections were nice to be able to touch, they didn’t have the shoes I wanted, and their sales were often bit too far out of my price range. It was nice to be able to form my own reviews of the items as I travelled through the store, but ultimately my hard work came up short.

Then JCPenney was the store I chose. Walking through the aisles brought a sense of nostalgia. I remembered shopping with my mom for those freshman year sheets here, and how we spent hours going between the different sheets, arguing about quality and appearance. Now, I was here alone, facing the same questions but with more experience behind me.

JCPenney had better deals, though it was hard to find the bedding aisle. After navigating the maze of aisles, I managed to find it. I was met with a view of blankets upon blankets — some stacked on beds, other nestled away in shelves. 

I immediately ran my hands over the different sheets. Some flannel, some cotton, others polyester. Being able to feel it was an experience only in-person shopping could offer, and I was glad to be able to see how the quality of the sheets were.

Around me, other people shopping for similar items were chatting. Shoppers discussed between prints, others lamented about the deals. It was nice to see that others were engaging in the same activity that I was.

The primary downside of this method, aside from having to travel an hour to get there, was that the sales were below my expectations. 50% off $100 is still $50, which is way out of my price range! Online, sales were way cheaper, so I was mentally cursing at myself for not just going with the online versions. 

Because I’m terrible at making up my mind, I didn’t end up buying anything. The materials were nice, but I didn’t find anything in my price range that bit the aesthetic I wanted to go for. I did have fun though! 

Reflection: Comparing the two methods

Though I didn’t end up buying anything, I can say I did enjoy the experience. I love shopping and seeing what things are out there, and approaching shopping for one item in two different ways allowed me to see the pros and cons of both approaches. 

Online shopping allowed me to spend less time traveling between stores. It offered more speed, convenience, and endless filters to help me find bedding that fit my exact wants. However, it lacked the satisfaction of touching the fabrics or seeing the colors in person. I found myself overthinking and second-guessing my choices, relying heavily on often finicky reviews to fill in the gaps. The experience, though efficient, felt detached and transactional.

in-store browsing was definitely more immersive. Walking through the aisles, reveling in all the options, definitely felt a lot more fun than just mindlessly scrolling. This method also carried a sense of nostalgia that online shopping did not, reminding me of shopping for college supplies with my mom all those years ago. This would’ve been different for me if my Black Friday shopping experience was as bloodthirsty as it usually is, though. I’m sure if I would’ve loved the crowds as much. Still, the in-person experience felt richer, as I could engage with the product directly.

This act of browsing reminded me just how much I liked to be in the moment. I feel like with phones, it’s difficult to be fully present in what you’re engaging in. In person,  things definitely felt more intentional, and it required less work than online shopping (though it did take more time). That being said, I agree with Guriel’s argument that we should browse more and scroll less. Browsing allowed me to revel in this transitional experience of getting something new. It was a less convenient experience, sure, but I was lucky enough to have the time to indulge in it and have more of a connection to the sheets I was looking at. Overall, the browsing experience is what reminded me that shopping isn’t just about getting the sheets that best fit what I want, it’s about engaging and creating stories with the materials — something that’s difficult to obtain if you’re only scrolling. 

As I was home for Thanksgiving break, I took the opportunity to complete this final short assignment. Shopping on Black Friday has been a tradition that my mom, sister, and I have upheld. We stayed consistent visiting Woodbury Commons for a few years. Last year, I decided to work on Black Friday but then realized I was not getting paid time and a half. This year, I continued the tradition with my family in going to Danbury Mall in Connecticut. This mall is twice the size of Woodbury with twice the amount of stores. On my Christmas list is a pair of white Adidas sneakers, specifically the “Forum Low Shoes.”

During the first experiment, I had feelings of excitement and anxiousness. With Christmas being right around the corner, shoes sell out fast. Everyone wants to rock the newest look, myself included. Adidas sneakers have been around for a long time and the number of styles they come in is incredible. The shoe I wanted was presented in the color of “Cloud White” which had lace closure, leather upper, textile lining and a rubber outsole. I started on the Adidas website and then moved to Amazon, DSW, then Footlocker. My goal was to find the same shoe for the lowest price. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to check out each website and compare prices and reviews. This process was done from the comfort of my own bed at home, in pajamas, under a cozy blanket.

During the second experiment, I felt eager to visit the Danbury Mall to explore my shoe options. The only store that was available to me in person that I visited online was Footlocker. This store was extremely overwhelming along with exceeding the maximum amount of people allowed in the store at once. I like my in-person shopping experience to feel calm and relaxed. Spending 45 minutes browsing felt rushed in this environment. You always feel like you are in someone’s way along with my family pressuring me to decide on what to buy. As I am browsing in the Adidas section, an employee came up to me once every five minutes to ask if I needed help. Granted, I never found the same shoe and did need help, but wanted to experience browsing on my own. After the 45 minutes were up, my family was begging me to leave the store so we could continue with the rest of our shopping.

The first experiment was much more enjoyable and successful than the second. I was able to take my time scrolling through websites than I was standing in the middle of chaos. I did not have the stressor of my family waiting for me along with feeling I had to make a purchase when I entered the store. There is an unsatisfying feeling when you walk out of a store without buying anything. I wasted time when I could have been searching elsewhere. My family did not want to leave me in a store by myself due to the commotion of Black Friday. I did not have the luxury of comparing prices or reviews. I like to investigate the logistics to know if the shoe is worth buying. I understand I am physically present in the store to try on the shoe and there is a risk of getting the wrong size online. I have bought so many shoes online that I am willing to take that risk. I felt peaceful when no one was bothering me during my shopping.

If I were in an environment that was more tame than Black Friday, I would agree with Guriel that we should do more browsing. However, in this experience, I preferred scrolling. I did not meander from my goal and scroll on meaningless websites for hours. I made a priority to stick to one pair of shoes without being sucked into other websites or ads. I enjoyed playing out both experiments along with solidifying my love for shopping.

For me, engagement with the analogue is not just a rejection of the digital, but taking back what is human—what is made for people by people.

My analogue journey in the realm of compact disc began in middle school when a friend of mine, who was a CD connoisseur, made me some mixtapes. Eight CDs stored in both plastic cases and paper sleeves he’d folded himself, these discs contained hours of music from our favorite bands: Weezer, My Chemical Romance, Muse, and Green Day (quite the taste). The last two CDs were compilations of songs he thought I’d like, basically a rip-off of every 70s rock compilation, but it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. 

Later on, when that same friend and I started dating and made it to our first anniversary, I crossed paths with the compact disc again, as he handed me a compilation of all of Weezer’s B-Sides, only the obscurest of Rivers Cuomo & Co.’s jams all on one disc. These were songs only found on YouTube at the time, yet here they were, sitting in the palms of my hands.

It’s been nearly five years since I’ve last spoken to that friend, having gone our separate ways in life, but those CDs still sit in my milk crate. They exist among other CDs, officially licensed and produced by record labels, more durable and artistically impressive than the simple blank CDs scrawled with Sharpie. And yet, something drew me to those discs more and more over the years. So, when assigned the task of returning to analogue, I returned to the disc.

It’s worth mentioning that in the United States, burning discs does not infringe upon copyright law if they are being made for personal use. Selling these discs is where things get tricky, but these discs are made solely for my benefit and enjoyment. So, this week, I busted out the external DVD drive, the blank CDs, and a flimsy jewel case and got to work.

The process of burning a disc is relatively simple—converting mp4s to mp3s, transferring those files into a playlist (usually on iTunes), then converting it onto a blank disc inserted into the DVD drive, and in less than 5 minutes, the product is complete. Sure, it’s not the prettiest piece of art, but pop it into any CD player, and it works like a charm. For this week, I copied The Brobecks’ album Happiest Nuclear Winter onto a disc, an album that can only be found through YouTube reuploads nowadays. When I had some quiet moments alone in my room, I’d let the music play from my mini CD player, idly playing while I did chores or caught up on late assignments (such as this one). It was both an experience of nostalgia (having listened to that album since middle school) and rejuvenation (finding something new I loved about certain songs).

There are multiple arguments to be made in favor of CDs. For one, you’re limited by the capacity of the disc. Unlike music streaming apps like Spotify or Apple Music, which allow you to freely jump between genres, playlists, and songs, listening to a CD forces the listener to really focus on the 80-or-so minutes of music at their disposal, digesting it a lot better as opposed to just jumping from song to song. As someone who used to consume music album by album, CDs are optimal for my listening habits. In contrast to other forms of physical music media, CDs are a lot more accessible—easy to buy, easy to burn, easy to make mixtapes to your heart’s content. Vinyl records, though having an attractive vintage/nostalgic quality to them, are not as accessible to the public. While it’s common for big artists to sell LPs of their latest albums or for record shops to offer wide access to many genres, you cannot go out and make your own vinyl record without paying an egregious price through third-party companies. Customization is lost in this realm, whereas CDs do not require as much work and money.

The biggest argument in favor of the disc, in my opinion, is its defiance against the streaming world. It hands the authority back into the hands of the listener to forge their own playlists without needing to pay a monthly subscription, be inundated with advertisements, or be worried that their favorite music may be wiped from their streaming platforms. It allows for the consumer to remix and create music for themselves, to take back an artform meant for humans to enjoy. And don’t get me wrong, if an artist is selling CDs and I have the means, I will always be inclined to purchase those first, because supporting your favorite artists is what keeps their job afloat. But if I don’t have the means or the music is not widely available in physical form, then I think burning CDs is the way we can reclaim our media and relinquish the chokehold these corporations have over our entertainment. It is how we show our love for ourselves, for one another, and the media we value beyond monetary means.

For me, I bounce between both worlds, listening to music on my phone on the go, but when I’m alone in the comfort of my own home, I find myself much more inclined to pop in a disc and just enjoy the tunes.

For my analog experience, I chose to work with a disposable film camera. Prior to this week, I had never used a disposable camera. 

I have some photography experience from a class in high school and my interest in photography but I only worked with digital cameras. The two digital cameras that I am familiar with are the iphone camera and the Nikon D3100. I believe the camera on the iPhone 14 Pro is great. The iPhone camera allows the photographer to zoom in up to 15x. Additionally, the iPhone camera takes clear crisp pictures with minimal effort done by the photographer. I have my iphone camera settings with the grid and level on. This allows me to make sure that I am positioned correctly to create a photo that does not solely have the object in the center of the photo but rather in one-third of the image and the level ensures that the photo is straight. The Nikon D3100 camera also has the ability for the grid lines to be displayed on the screen. With both digital cameras, the photo shot can be seen and edited within seconds after being taken. It is important to note that digital cameras essentially allow for infinite photos to be captured while the iPhone may say that more storage is needed and the Nikon camera may require a new memory card, the camera itself still has the ability to take photos. 

I purchased the disposable camera from Walgreens. The film camera is a Kodak power flash disposable 800. This camera is a single use with the ability to only capture 27 images. On the body of the camera, it is labeled with directions on how to use it. The first time I went to take a picture I followed all the directions but when pressing the shot button I did not hear it go off. However, the only way to confirm that no picture was actually taken is to see the amount of pictures remaining. The amount still stated 27 so I did not do something correctly. For a moment I thought that I had bought a damaged camera. However, I figured out that I was not winding the camera all the way which hindered its ability to capture the shot. While using the disposable camera I found myself not worrying about how the photo came out as I could not view it right away, I just did my best to obtain my desired shot by how I saw the shot through the viewfinder. With each photo I took this week using the disposable camera, I tried to make sure that each picture was different because I valued that I am limited to a certain amount of photographs. 

This experience made me realize the beauty of the unknown. My analog experience allowed me to not obsess over the way that the shot came out, rather I just took the shot and will see how the pictures came out after the film is developed. The process of having to wait to receive the photos is a process that is not experienced with digital cameras. I learned that I enjoy the more authentic photo that is created using the disposable film camera. In a sense that, for most of my shots using the disposable camera I had to physically move closer to the object because I did not have a lens that could zoom like digital cameras can. As I compare my analog experience with that of my digital world, I do not think one is better than the other, but the analog version brings me to keeping the photograph simple. 

My analog experience began a couple weeks ago, when I decided to try to do my graphic design homework– based in digital Adobe programs– all on paper. So far, every sketch or thought has been typed on a notes app, written in a sketchbook app on my iPad, or recorded in a document online. Graphic design needed to go back to its creative basics, so I started cracking open my ninth-grade notebook. 

The first thing I noted was the flexibility I had to produce meaningful work in different environments and through different mediums besides solely screens. I have actually been feeling extremely limited when completing my assignments since I need to complete them in the graphic design building on campus. Their computer labs are built to have all of these programs on their computers, and the monitors are the size I am used to working on in class, which is to say, giant. My laptop refuses to be an option as well, and other computers provided by the library or in other buildings simply don’t cut it. 

When working in my notebook, I sketched everything with a pencil, took notes and ideas down on the same sheets, and physically mapped out every version of my project I had considered. Honestly, it felt odd, doing something by hand that everyone else could do with three clicks of a button, but it did get me in touch with every stroke of my pencil on paper and made me connect with the purpose of every line.

I felt in control as well, having grown up loving physical papers in front of me, I handwrote all of my notes as opposed to using our shitty, plastic Chromebooks the school provided. Lord knows I could move my hand faster than those things could load anyway. I am used to the feeling of creating with a pencil in my hand, the sensitivity and dexterity. This is why I prefer to use my iPad in many cases, but I had never even really considered how much of my assignments could be done actually on paper and not just an impression of it. Of course, some things need to be transferred to the computer and completed digitally, but it was far later in the process of my project than one would expect.

The familiarity was such a comforting feeling, allowing me to really focus on my product instead of the stress of figuring out the program I was using or who I was disturbing by being in the studios so late. My analog experience is at least shaping the way I plan to carry out the last of this semester, on paper in a notebook falling apart by the second. 

Reflection of the class period itself-

At our analog cafe today, I brought in my record and sat down to color. I could choose between three coloring pages themed for Thanksgiving, one being Snoopy in a Pilgrim’s outfit holding out a pie, a page with calligraphy bubble letters spelling out “Happy Thanksgiving” with pumpkins all around it, and a page that featured a cornucopia in the center and blocky bubble letters that also spelled out “Happy Thanksgiving”. I chose to color in the festive Snoopy like a lot of my classmates. 

I selected an array of pinks and reds out of the big case of alcohol markers provided by Rose, and set to coloring in my snoopy. I then colored in his clothing and hat in purple, and made his pie green. While doing so, our whole area of the table was immersed in collective conversation, springing back and forth around the room. Our class was lively and as topics flowed and changed, we weren’t cut off with intent to reach a certain goal. Many people laughed, and we were all able to compare our differently rendered Snoopies in the end.

As for the experiment, the data I observed is broken down according to the steps included in “Object Studies”. 

Firstly, for the overview of the experiment, I recorded my expectations of how today would go, as well as what I wanted to look out for while the analog cafe was taking place. Due to our debate in class, I was focused on the attention spans of students and what they would be creating throughout our time in our analog cafe. Much of our discussion centered around the authenticity of art and the use of AI with modern technology, as well as the globalization of ideas and lack of inspiration. 

Next, over the course of the class period, I noticed that most students had picked one craft that interested them upon arriving and stuck with it for the time we had. There were multiple creative tools available, such as air dry clay, crochet, coloring pages with colored pencils or markers at hand, a type writer, etc. Each person had enough patience to really put effort into what they were creating and never got frustrated or quit what they were doing, nor left it there without a word. Students were also able to have conversations and socialize while doing their task, opposed to how all encompassing screens tend to be, to the point where people cannot converse while doing something on their phones.

Additionally, although there were only three different coloring pages, everyone chose to complete their differently, with different colors or mediums, and each person’s final result was much different from anyone else. 

As for my personal reflections, during the class time, I felt much more light and having a positive experience in class. Despite feeling very tired before and after the time slot, I was able to forget about how tired I was since my mind was actually being used. I just felt very present and as if I was able to really take in all of the information given to me in conversation with peers and other stimuli. I also tuned in and out to the background music playing because it was more up to selective hearing, instead of being bombarded with every source of art in equal measure. 

To add on, I personally did not find the task of staying off my phone to be difficult. I even had the device in my pocket where I could feel any potential vibrations from receiving notifications, which many people find to be even more distracting and tempting. Yet, I  was not tempted to check my phone throughout our time, since I felt fulfilled from my experience and therefore didn’t need to rely on anything else to occupy my hands or mind.

After experiencing our analog cafe, I think that more institutions should try the same thing in the future. However, there are steps to be taken first to ensure that the experience is as successful as ours. It is important to instate discussion-based assignments first– our class relies heavily on talking to our peers, which allows for friendly relationships to develop first, making the analog cafe experience better. Without doing so, our classroom would have surely been engulfed in silence, leaving many students to feel isolated and feel the need to compensate by “socializing” on their devices. Only after this should more schools use class times to complete digital free sessions– specifically with a selection including hands-on activities. These two things are things I feel are the most crucial for the success of the experiment, as students are actively engaged physically and mentally, comfortable around their peers, and not made to pay attention to a lecture that is horrendously understimulating compared to our everyday lives.

For my analog experience, I kept a daily journal. I was excited about this assignment because I keep a journal for pleasure. However, I like to include photos and drawings in my journal. With a focus on aesthetics, I can admittedly lose focus on the purpose of an analog experience and shift my focus to perfectionism. For this assignment, I simply kept a journal of my day. I was interested to see how this experience differs from my usual journaling. What is different about this experience? What is the importance of the analog world, and why has it become a lost art?

During my experiment, I journaled at different times of the day. Sometimes to start my day, alongside my daily bowl of cereal, jotting down my schedule for the day. These entries usually consisted of my plans for the day, with a to-do list highlighted and checked off by the end of the day. Occasionally, I would have a mid-day journaling session, in between classes or even at work. My favorite of these entries are those at work, with the complaints of students questioning why the mailroom hasn’t processed their package yet, but I don’t know either. Most of the journal entries were at night with a reflection on my day. From this experiment, I’ve found that my favorite time to journal is at night. 

I sit at my desk, the dorm room dark aside from the lamp on my desk lighting up the blank pages of my journal. I let my thoughts flow while my hand freely illustrates the story of my day on the page. These are the entries with the most substance, each one shows a pattern. Different from the other entries, these go beyond the minuscule details of my day. These entries give more insight into who I am and how I feel. What made me happy that day, what is stressing me out, or what I’m looking forward to.

From this experience, I learned that while I still appreciate the craft behind the work in my other journal, I preferred the simplicity in this one. It’s therapeutic to remove yourself from the worries of your life and submerse yourself into your writing. Nowadays, the analog world is a lost art, no one keeps anything physical. While I understand the convenience of ranting about your day in your notes app from bed, writing in a journal is a different experience. An experience where you can learn more about who you are. When you do your favorite hobbies in analog, you gain a new love for them. Digital coloring is something I love to do, but there’s nothing like physical coloring. The art of ink from the marker filling in a blank canvas is something that you can’t replicate digitally. Doing things in analog is a deep and enriching experience, something that can be experienced more often if we unplug from the digital world. It is important to learn about who you are outside of the digital world. You have a newfound appreciation of the material world when you do things in analog. 

About a three months ago, I walked into my room after coming home from work to see a journal sitting on my bed. I was leaving to come back to New Paltz in a week from what was a disastrous summer. Between work, family, and a devastating break up, I was struggling mentally. I had a challenging time opening up to anyone about the feelings I was experiencing. I was isolated in my own head and could not escape. As I sat down on my bed, I picked up the journal. This journal was vibrant in having a white background with seven stripes of colors alternating between yellow, pink, blue, and orange. The journal has a yellow strap to secure the book when closed, along with gold rings to hold the pages. The title of the journal in gold letters read “thoughts and notes.” I was skeptical of the process at first because I had never journaled nor put my thoughts and feelings into any personal writing for myself. I was scared to reread my emotions along with finding the courage to not judge myself. I wrote one entry the week before returning to school and have not touched the journal until this week. I am hoping to discover if I will allow myself to lean into the process and let my thoughts go. I have a tough time committing to experiences that I know will benefit me. It is the feeling I do not deserve that satisfaction with the choices I have made.

Finding the courage to pick up the journal after putting it down for so long was intimidating. Not taking the initiative to work on myself when I was provided with a direct source was disappointing. I knew this assignment was the perfect opportunity to dive into working on my mental health. Each night this week before bed, I sat at my desk and took fifteen to twenty minutes of silent writing. My writing was not limited to a specific topic, I let my brain release what kept my mind running. Nevertheless, I saw a pattern in my writing. I would start with how my day went and all the positive aspects I encountered. Then, if there was anything bothering me, I would elaborate in a detailed description of how it was making me feel. I would also describe its influence on other events in my life. As I described to my roommates, they noticed a new task was added into my night routine, I was releasing my bottled emotions. I have two close friends that I share every detail my life with, but instead of relying on hearing someone else’s response, I reread my entries. Funny enough, I reread my first entry that I wrote over the summer. It was a shock to see how far I have come through the hardship. I feel like a different person from three months ago and was able to reflect on only doing one entry during the time I needed it most. During that time was when I needed discipline and structure to keep writing to manage my emotions. The observed benefit I have received from this experiment is my ability to communicate with others. If you are not able to regulate your own emotions, you can not communicate properly. I pride myself on building relationships with others due to healthy communication. That idea begins with an activity such as journaling to instill this practice on social relations.

This experience surprised me that I could go through with the task of journaling before bed every night. I was able to investigate how different each day was during the week and how it made me feel. Our lives can be so chaotic that we forget to focus on ourselves and well being. Slowing down and taking the time to focus on how I felt about my day or a certain event, validated my feelings. This addition to my night routine was something I looked forward to. Within the craziness of life and school, centering my mind was crucial. I did not have to think about journaling, I just did it. The process is now ingrained into my routine. Instead of finding a distraction such as putting on a tv show or movie, taking a drive, or listening to music on my phone, I was able to be in touch with myself. I have shied away from the difficult aspects of my life and shoved emotions down till they disappeared. This experience made me want to explore other analogue experiments to contrast the influence it has on my life. Journaling is a personal and individualized experience, and I am curious to branch out to analogous that require more than one person. This experience gave me the confidence to be upfront with my emotions and to find a safe outlet to share my thoughts. In a short week, journaling has helped manage my anxiety, gain distance from my experiences, prepare for a restful night’s sleep, and boost my motivation.