Project 1: Ephemeral, Site, and Social Space

Thorned is an ephemeral art piece created from natural rocks and hand-formed clay spikes. Inspired by the film Rivers and Tides featuring Andy Goldsworthy’s temporary artworks highlighting nature and its materials, this work explores the intersection of geological time and emotional vulnerability. Being made outdoors and left exposed to the elements of the world, it is designed to be temporary, becoming altered and eventually erased by weather, moisture, and time.

The piece highlights the cross between permanence and fragility. The rocks being strong and unmoving, contrast with the clay, which is malleable and delicate, symbolizing both human touch and impermanence. By attaching spikes of clay onto rocks, I bring an element of temporary transformation. These spikes act as a metaphor for psychological boundaries: protective and reactive, but also unsustainable. Over time, they will crack and dissolve from exposure, mirroring our own instinct to defend and isolate ourselves: defenses that, like the clay, will eventually break down.

The artwork is in response to place, specifically on how we relate to environments both physically and emotionally and how we alter them with our own presence, memory, or acts of avoidance. The social commentary in this work is abstract, the clay spikes showcase both defense mechanisms in the natural world as well as how humans psychologically defend themselves, bridging the connection between human and non-human social structures.

Thorned brings attention to impermanence as not a loss, but instead as a transformation. By exposing ourselves to the environment around, it reflects how the defenses we build to protect ourselves, might also be keeping us away from further connections.

Writing 2: Scales of Social Space

In “No Dead Air! The iPod and the Culture of Mobile Listening,” by Michael Bull, it’s said that the iPod allows urban society to reclaim control over their environment through the use of personalized soundscapes. By being able to make their own sound experiences, individuals are able to filter out the often overwhelming noise of the city and instead make their own narratives to help them navigate a city's space. The idea of being able to create personal agency within the premade landscape of a city is also shown in Tony Silver’s documentary Style Wars, which documents young graffiti artists and breakdancers in 1980s New York City and follows how they assert cultural ownership over public spaces by using art and performance.

Bull’s thoughts of the iPod as a tool for “sensory gating” can be used to also understand the graffiti artists' relationship with the city. iPod users go into a private auditory world to manage the urban life while the youth in Style Wars instead demonstrate themselves by spray painting on subway trains, walls, and street corners or by using dance as a way of expression. In both cases, individuals are not passively accepting the premade layout of the city but are instead rewriting its meaning to suit their own lives and identities. The graffiti acts as its own visual soundtrack by being able to be mobile signs of personal and collective identity. Alike to music users creating their own sense of control and presence within the city. Both practices challenge the alienation of traditional city design and authority by turning everyday infrastructures and the surrounding area into personal and cultural creativity.

By comparing these two resources, a deeper understanding of how individuals look for both escape and redefinition is seen. Whether through using music, spray paint, or dance, the intention of expressing a shared personal experience and asserting presence over an environment that often feels depersonalizing is celebrated. In cities that are typically designed for efficiency, surveillance, and control, these acts of self-expression act as rebellions towards the conventional. There’s something beautiful in the human desire to create a space of comfort within the uncomfortable and I think these resources perfectly display that. The feeling to personalize and to reclaim the cities that we live in can help to remind us that even if we are in environments that feel disconnected to us, we are able to find ways to assert our own presence, creativity, and right to belong.

Walk 4: Cocooned vs. Engaged

While walking through a public space, which for me was Downtown Tucson, I chose to create a personal “cocoon” using my earbuds, turning on the noise-canceling feature, and playing music. Music felt like a natural choice for my “cocoon” because I already listen to it regularly, though I typically avoid wearing earbuds while walking. As someone who’s prone to anxiety, I usually prefer to stay alert of my surroundings and being able to hear the sounds around makes me feel safer. Besides exploring how cocooning with music would affect my walking experience, I also wanted to use this assignment to sharpen my visual awareness.

I began my walk down E. Congress St., listening to music that I know and love, genres like alternative, pop-punk, and rock. As I walked and took photos, I noticed myself gravitating toward capturing the sunlight and how it highlighted buildings and objects around emphasizing a warm tone. Most of my photos focused on natural leading lines rather than symmetry, which goes against my usual approach in photography projects. The overall experience felt light and carefree because I was simply enjoying the moment, in my own little world, taking photos, I liked without overanalyzing whether they were technically good.

After a while, I switched to music I don’t typically enjoy like certain types of heavy metal, country, and overly auto-tuned songs. The shift in music felt harsh compared to the emotional, upbeat, or spunky songs I started with, the new mix felt chaotic and uncomfortable. It made it harder to focus on the visual aspects that I usually enjoy and find interesting. To reflect this discomfort, I decided to take photos that were more symmetrical, cooler in tone, and muted.

Eventually, I removed my earbuds and put them and my phone in my pocket. The transition from having sound right in my ears to suddenly hearing the surrounding noise of the city was strange. Without music, I felt more grounded in the present and I started to notice and focus more on the people around me, whether they were talking or entering and exiting shops. I occasionally tried making eye contact or exchanging a quick smile. Compared to being cocooned, this part of the experience felt more vulnerable and slightly awkward, but also more connected.

Overall, the experience was interesting. I see both the pros and cons of creating a sensory barrier versus fully engaging with the world around me. It seems that each approach can feel both liberating and uncomfortable in its own way.

Walk 3: Social Territory

 When choosing a demographic to focus on for Walk 3, I wanted it to reflect something meaningful about Tucson as a whole. That’s when I remembered the growing number of spaces for bicyclists in recent years, especially in the Downtown area, which is known for its active and social community. This led me to select bicyclists as the demographic that I wanted to focus on.

For my exploration, I decided to start along E. Congress St., beginning near the Hotel Congress and ending on N. Stone Ave., near the Joel D. Valdez Main Library. As I walked down the street, I looked for signs of how bicyclists interact with and are supported by the city's environment.

One of the first things I noticed was a simple street marking of a white painted bicycle symbol with an arrow above it, indicating that bikes are welcome to share the road with other vehicles. Along the sidewalks, I saw a large amount of bike racks, many of which had bikes securely locked to them. Given the intense Tucson heat, I assumed the cyclists were either running errands at nearby shops or taking a brief break from the scorching sun.

I also came across several cautionary signs directed at bicyclists, warning them about the tracks in the roads, which highlights an important safety consideration. At the Ronstadt Transit Center, I saw that there were two main public transportation options, which were the city buses and the TUGO Bikeshare stations, which offers both an easy and accessible way for people to rent bikes around the city.

The most interesting and significant moment of my walk was when I turned onto N. Stone Ave. I noticed that there were two dedicated bike lanes alongside the main road. In certain areas, a concrete curb was there to separate these lanes from car traffic, which helps to create a safer environment for both cyclists, pedestrians, and car drivers.

Based on the evidence I gathered during my walk, it’s clear that Tucson has made significant efforts to support the bicyclist community. The designated bike lanes, safety signs, and bikeshare options show that the demographic is highly thought of and thriving within the city’s downtown.

Writing 1: Ephemeral/Site

For my writing reflection I decided to put emphasis on the reading titled “Walking the Line: Affectively Understanding and Communicating the Complexity of Place” by Laurene Vaughan that focuses on artist Richard Long and the film titled “River and Tides” that focuses on the artist Andy Goldsworthy.

In Walking the Line: Affectively Understanding and Communicating the Complexity of Place, the author emphasizes how walking can function as a form of embodied mapping due to its active sensory aspects and engagement with the landscape that can lead to self-discovery and a deeper understanding of place. The idea of mapping through the use of body movement is also showcased in the film River and Tides, which highlights Andy Goldsworthy’s process of creating ephemeral art that demonstrates having a conversation with the natural world. Goldsworthy’s process is similar to the walks of Richard Long, as they are not about owning the landscape but are about moving through it with pure openness and sensitivity. Their work shows how nature can act as both a canvas and a collaborator because of its moments of stillness such as where icicles or leaves are placed but also bursts of energy such as a tide deconstructing a sculpture. What becomes clear in both the article and the film is that nature is constantly active with life and emotion. And when humans interact with it creatively and with intention, they create a unique dialogue of making art.

Personally, I find Goldsworthy’s art to be a powerful reflection of the duality of nature, showcasing its calm rhythms but also its intense power. His work, like the walks talked about in Walking the Line, becomes a form of tracing human presence through the use of time and space without permanence. Both resources highlight that art and nature, when combined, can remind us that our connection with the world is both emotional and temporary. Goldsworthy’s ability to let go of control and let his artworks collapse or wash away relates to the article’s example that mapping is a fluid act rather than a fixed act. The landscape explored is not only just observed but is also felt, engaged with, and then transformed into something unique and new. The duality of nature that was spoken about and showcased, to me, is what makes the mix of nature and art so beautiful because it reflects our communication with the world but also reflects our own personal internal complexities, calm or chaotic, much like nature.

Walk 2: Desire Lines

 A desire line is defined as “an informal path that pedestrians prefer to take to get from one location to another rather than using a sidewalk or other official route”. In looking for desire lines, I decided to take a trip to a park near one of my family members' houses. The park is called Mission Manor Park, and I arrived there at around 7:30 am. Once I got there, I noticed that there were a handful of people walking on the main outskirt's sidewalk getting in an early workout. I decided to follow the main sidewalk and observe if there were desire lines near the designated path. If there were desire lines, why were they there if there was already a decently sized paved sidewalk?

Walk 1: Mapping Senses

Through my two walks, I focused on the senses, sight, hearing, and smell. I decided to walk down a neighborhood street that is next to my house with my father. In hindsight, I believe that walking with my father added to the experience I had while walking because it tied in a further personal connection to my location. It helped me focus on the senses that I wanted to analyze.

The first sense being sight, I realized while walking that there were a lot of rustic items in front of houses. Many were mailboxes or personal items such as decorations or cars. To me, the rustic look of the items displays the time and memories that were potentially tied to these items or that the families experienced in general while living here in the neighborhood.

The second sense that I focused on was hearing. I live on the outskirts of Tucson and it’s usually a quiet and slow area. The sounds heard were very basic such as the sounds of walking on pavement and rocks, distant birds chirping, a car, and an old dog barking at us to show that he's protecting his territory. It did give me a sense of nostalgia however, finding peace in the simplicity of it.

The final sense that I wanted to highlight was smell. I was unable to find a way to visually demonstrate smell, but I think that the use of words is a good documentation form. For smell, the main scent that I noticed was the fresh morning air, as I started my walk at 5:10 am. The two other smells that were prevalent were dirt and gasoline. Besides the main neighborhood streets that were paved, the inner streets that lead to rows of houses are only made of dirt. There were a couple of cars and trucks heading out of these streets to start their day and the tires would pick up the dirt and give off a faint scent. When work trucks would pass there would be a brief smell of gasoline passing by.