Evan Wolfe Blog Post #1

As the black track, sparkling from the sunlight, stretches around the corner, all he can see are the flashy phrases. Words everywhere. Advertisements for various clubs and activities pass then go. And once he makes his way around this miniature and narrow track, he is met by a massive building. The building is so bright that it disrupts the blue and white variation the sky creates. However, as soon as he starts focusing on the silver time capsule looking objects that are implanted on the top of the building, it is too late. The steel frame quickly vanishes in the distance, as he has now turned the curving bend. From here, all he can see are the green, sycamore trees. And yes, they do have leaves on them. The trees have not lost hope for the winter. Soon, he may not be able to say the same. Towards December, those lively chunks of wood will be lifeless as the white snowflakes bury the land. Just as the runner turns the final bend, he knows that he must not worry about what’s lying ahead. He must learn to appreciate the present moment since the track remains visible for only a couple more months.  

Yuxin Xuan Blog 1

Sitting on the side of Palmer Field, I have a broad vision and see a lot of beautiful scenery. The buildings on Hill Campus are well-proportioned，neither too crowded nor empty. The buildings embraced a large playground where people can exercise, rest or hold events. Blue and yellow tents  create shadows which make a contrast with the bright sunlight.  All the creatures seem to awake from a sound sleep and open their eyes cheerfully. The rumble of cars and trucks washes into a high distant sound that blends with the rustle of the wind through the leaves. Look, in the field, there are stretches and patches of greenness. And you may feel inclined to sit, or lie, or just roll yourself on the soft grass.

Kayla McKinney- Blog Post #1

Resting upon the plain concrete lies a splash of color making an otherwise ordinary path worth looking at. Before that hint of color was added passersby strolled along that same path day after day without a care for the material that laid beneath their feet. Now the foreign design may force them to look down and maybe fuel their curiosity.  In bright blue and pink crescents created from solid sticks of fine limestone, the unique symbol ignites many questions. Who? What? When? Where? Why?  Amazingly the small drawing pulls at least one of these questions from everyone who sees it; regardless of race, gender, or age. In the same piercing blue something is written beneath the symbol, but try as you may the smudges of countless feet has made it impossible to read, adding to the mystery. Until they are trampled by countless shoes or drowned by the rain, the crescents shall remain. Blue. Then pink. Then blue. Then mirrored.  

Allison Taylor - Blog Post #1

The trees are syncopated throughout the grass, so alive with color and movement as the wind seeps through each blade and each leaf, causing the entire field to perform the choreography that has been repeated so many times before. The leaves pirouette and jeté from nature's gusts of air. It is a ballet dance; the sun a spotlight on the fluttering leaves on the trees, their femininity supported by the strength and masculinity of the trees' trunk. The audible hiss of the wind acts as a whisper between the trees, as though nature's secret is being discussed from branch to branch. The grass kisses the tree's roots, as roots kiss the soil underneath what the eye can see.

Danny Ziegelman Blog #1

          I’m sitting outside in Palmer field while the sun still shines and the grass hasn't retreated beneath a soft blanket of white flakes and hibernated into its yellow sleep.  Staring out, my eye catches the reflection of the sun on a building whose name I do not know.  It winds and is curved as though it has been tormented by the wind and snow.   Its glass is clear as the day is blue, but I bet it only feels the way Ann Arbor’s seasons treats it.  Designed with many materials, one more durable than the next, I notice its pillars like silver bullets rest atop. The occasional plume of black smoke gets coughed out, trying to clear its lungs as if to say I’m still ok.  I do not know the name of this building, but that still does not take away from its beauty.  Architecture is a word to describe the art of designing and constructing, while beauty describes what is aesthetically pleasing.  Put the two words together, and it paints a picture in my mind of my own home in Chicago, where the city skyline emerges from Lake Michigan in a heap of glass, stone, and warped steel that scrapes the sky.  It glistens in the sun in the summer time and sways as the windy city blows.  This building whose name I do not know transcends me back to Chicago and at the same time brings me back to Ann Arbor.  

Let's Get Started!

Welcome to the course blog for LHSP 125.002: Writing and Seeing (Fall 2015)!

Throughout the semester, students will post insights, reactions, and questions based on course materials and activities.  Students are expected to comment on each others' posts as well. In order to get full credit for blogging, students should post at least once every two weeks, AND respond to a peer’s post at least once every two weeks. Those are minimums -- everyone is encouraged to write more.  


Posts may be informal and spontaneous. This is an opportunity to get messy and try new things. While the blog won’t be formally graded, responses are required and account for 10% of the overall course grade.  I will follow the blog regularly and will use ideas and issues raised here as sparks for class discussions.