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theresa-of-liechtenstein · 19 days

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my first and only graduate school admitted students' visit was a success in that it helped me make up my mind. but maybe not in the way that people expected.

readers of this blog will know that i have a slightly complicated relationship with Institution B (the school i was visiting). but to make a long story short, four years ago, i was convinced that i would be enrolling there for undergrad. i had grown up there; for most of my life, the thought of 'what if we had never been priced out of living there' has haunted our family. we went to the area to visit old friends often when i was a kid, and four years ago, i saw going to Institution B as a sort of homecoming. however, my current, home institution unexpectedly awarded me an extremely large scholarship, and i wound up enrolling at the start of the pandemic.

it was not at all what i had wanted, and i felt a little embarrassed about it because some people i knew had considered it 'less prestigious' than Institution B. four years later, with a greater degree of awareness, i'm pretty sure i can pinpoint a bit of the underlying cause of that. my home institution is significantly more ethnically and economically diverse than Institution B. despite being older than Institution B, my home institution does fall behind because it lacks the endowed immediate surrounding area that Institution B has.

from the minute i stepped onto Institution B's campus, i felt it. Institution B's department sees itself as a 'big brother' to my home institution. many of Institution B's faculty work collaboratively with faculty from my home institution. it seemed like to them, me moving to Institution B was the obvious choice to make.

i interviewed with three professors: Professor A (who the grad students warned me was an advisor who could potentially break a student, but had many connections and could set me up), Professor B (the supervisor of the graduate student buddy i was assigned for the duration of the visit) and Professor C (contacted me in january but i never got around to reaching out)

Professor A (who i met with first) revealed that he was on the advisory board for the matsci program of my home institution. he also asked me what my research background was, and when i started enthusiastically going into it, literally put his hand up, interrupted me, and said "hold on. ✋🏻😐" which was genuinely so embarrassing. i wanted to jump out of a window. he asked me if i was considering any other options, and when i truthfully said i was considering staying, he bluntly said it was a poor idea.

Professor B revealed that not only had he recently given a seminar presentation at my home institution, he had literally gone out for dinner with my capstone mentor/PI on his visit and spoke positively of the city. he was a little awkward, but seemed very supportive and my graduate student babysitter had nothing but positive words about him.

Professor C had genuinely surprising research, and when i pointed out a few things with the projects he showed me (it had to do with phase transformations, but since i've just taken the class the concepts were fresher in my head) he was absolutely ecstatic. his enthusiasm for me asking questions about the manuscript was genuinely endearing. he also very eagerly mentioned that he intentionally made sure that half of his group were women.

speaking of which, i was the only woman in attendance among the potential incoming students. there were other women already in the phd program, but not very many. i didn't feel uncomfortable, but i did get the sense that the guys in my potential cohort didn't really know how to deal with me at first. i did feel at times that i was like the diversity hire, and my interests beyond matsci were so dissimilar to everyone else's that i just really wasn't sure how to connect. but then again, story of my life lmao.

i spent more time talking to the current grad students, who were all genuinely so hospitable and kind and looked out for me. however, something i didn't like was their constant conversation about alcohol. it wasn't that they weren't serious about their research: plenty of research stories got passed around and students had received various fellowships and grants. but many of them were drinking excessively at the social events. no one pressured me to join, but being the only totally sober person at the table was a little uncomfortable.

the second night was spent at the chair's house for a party with many of the faculty we had been interviewing that day. two things of note occurred.

one, i found myself next to one of the admits and Professor A, who asked us if we had seen the transmission electron microscopes (TEM) during our facilities tour. off our answers to the negative (we'd run out of time) he was like 'give me ten minutes and i'll drive you to campus and show you' which is where i got the picture from that one post taken. (Professor A offered.) he was very much under the influence and probably should not have been driving, and nearly made me carsick on the way back to the chair's house from his abrupt hard braking. i thought i was gonna die but tbh, it was worth seeing some of the largest microscopes i had ever seen in my whole life. so basically, a professor kidnapped me and two other guys and almost killed us with his atrocious driving. which is not the weirdest thing i've ever done with faculty but that's a post for tomorrow morning.

two, i found myself conversing with a professor who had moved to Institution B from my home institution a few years before. when i told him i was considering between the universities, at first, he said something like 'speaking as someone who's moved from [home institution] to Institution B...' and gave me a knowing look. use your words like an adult for god's sake. he then asked me my current faculty mentor and commented on his research a bit, then asked, 'who would be your PI at [home institution]?' i told him, and he said, 'oh! well, then,' sent me another knowing look, and said 'well, whatever you choose...' as if name dropping had changed something. again, man, please don't be cryptic.

i think all in all, even though Institution B was trying very hard to sell themselves to me, and posit themselves as a school of diversity and inclusion, i still felt isolated in a way i didn't feel when i was undergoing the process of interviewing faculty in my home institution in my grad school search. i felt out-of-place and terrified of making the wrong impression. some things people were saying to me went straight out of the window because i was trying so hard to monitor my facial expressions and fidgeting. i truly felt like i had a mask on and was trying not to let it slip. also, being the first in my family to go for a phd made me feel like there were so many unwritten, unspoken rules that i was just breaking irreversibly.

i can't help but compare this part of the experience to the professor in whose lab i'd be at my home institution. even though i had had her for a class, i had never interacted with her at length since the class was a little big. but i had also impressed her, and she had wanted to hear from me. i felt like i could relax around her, and our energies matched so well. she brought up me staying in orchestra even before i did, whereas i didn't feel like i could admit to any of the other professors that i wanted to also pursue music. it was nothing like the interviews i had had at Institution B.

something my grad student buddy had told me about was how he had done both his B.S. and M.S. at one institution, but decided to move for the Ph.D. i wondered why, since the program at his old home institution has been world-renowned. and he told me that if he had stayed, he would have still felt like an undergrad.

and i think that helped me to solidify how i felt into words. i don't feel like i'm undergrad anymore. it's been like that since mainly winter term of my third year. i still feel like there is work to be done and a need to be filled. i've mentally graduated already. there are days i walk across campus and i feel like a graduate student already. sometimes even a professor. it's strange, i can't explain it fully and even seeing that out feels so pretentious. but it's the best i can do to verbalize it.

i think the best image with which i can sum up this experience is of me in my little car on the highway back to my home institution, thoughts churning in my head as i drove. i watched the landscape outside change from coast to valley as i drove my way inland. and at last, i saw the mountains that tower over my school, and felt the most overwhelming sense of relief come over me.

i saw those mountains, and my first thought was: i'm home.

#the road to doctor em #if you can guess the institutions involved. you didn't see it #i tried to keep it as ambiguous as possible but i have been pretty lax about geography #so if you recognize anything i just said. no you didn't <3 #ok bye! love the airport!

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bellshazes · 1 year

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PLEASE GO INTO DETAILS ABOUT YOUR BDUBS ANALYSIS FOREVER

restricting myself solely to bwbs3 for the moment because i am going to finish DIA tonight so that'll have to be a separate. thing. about narrative

i'm not interested in it for theory's sake, but because I think a lot of content around minecraft does not scratch the itch I want - sure you can teach me how to copy a build block by block, or even explain a process for massing a roof, but these still aren't enough. what I truly, truly want is many people having a conversation that would include things like...

how do i move around in the game? where do I spend my time? what are the implications of that?

how do i build the infrastructure necessary to support the continued playstyle i prefer without devolving into base chores and in fact encouraging the development of goals and completion of them in a game with no prescribed finish?

how do I interpret meaning from the world I build around me? how do distance, color, texture, scale, size, lighting, shape, time spent navigating, terrain, machines, mechanics, movement, etc. and their interrelationships impact the meaning I derive?

these are mere starting points; concretely, a conversation could look like moving from "what's the best most efficient farm objectively i can build?" to "how do I choose or construct a farm that matches its output and ease of access to my current needs and goals?" farm throttling is a huge concern in my imaginary discourse, since it's highly variable even across a single player's single world. (this may shock you to learn this is something I appreciate greatly about etho.)

bdubs is making really, really big arguments about what visual representation can signify not in isolation but in concert across many dimensions: he loves his fog and render distance settings because of what they do to an environment, and his builds interact with those distance limits; he is constantly pushing himself further beyond simple gradients into texturing into doing ambient occlusion on flat walls to suggest crossbeams and now expanding scale to increase possibilities for meaningful coherent block palettes. it's got his usual wrapping of bluster and pride but he's a lot more mellow and didactic in bwbs3! like, he is arguing for this approach in terms you would expect with historical art movements, about how to communicate meaningfully through art. he is doing pointillism!

today he talked about building in all those terms and more, and then also in the fourth dimension of time; this is the first thing I built and it is a time capsule of my skill and style at that point in time, and I am going to build this today as a capstone to my current skills and style, a proof of concept and a temple and a focal point and a new scale marker (since the mountain he built is now tiny in comparison lmao). he is playing minecraft in 4D! this is a really neat and meaty line of thinking - if you're playing a world, what could you build to be a snapshot of where you are now?

that turns the world, built-up, into a historical register. it's not that groundbreaking to do in retrospect, but combined with the foresight and level of intent and skill and on top of that articulating that to the audience makes building with bdubs season 3 really special to me. it's a cross between a seminar and a let's play; it's not building with like s1/s2 senses of just recording himself while building and talking in detail, it's building with in the sense of instruction and encouraging you to go try it out. it's his pitch for his theory of building! from what I can tell, it's pretty unique for that.

honestly the derrida and perec and everything is relevant and ripe but my first turn to theory with bdubs was bernard tschumi's advertisements for architecture, because some of them work so well with his life series builds (another post, another time). however, check this shit out!

advertisements for architecture frequently also engages with murder and the erotic as components of architecture - "Murder in the Street differs from Murder in the Cathedral in the same way as love in the street differs from the Street of Love. Radically." the erotic is less relevant, but the call to baser human desires is a fun touchpoint when considering the meaninglessness of death and especially in the context of MCYT the use of architecture even more explicitly than irl as prompts for interesting, novel, unpredictable interactions. at the same time, many built things in MC are mere facades (grian hcs7 megabase...... not to be rude but jesus).

and so the novelty and love for a guy who cares about and executes well a manifesto on unifying aesthetics and function in a dynamic four-dimensional framework. with that basis, you could start engaging piaget on play, baudrillard on simulation and simulacra, derrida on bricolage, perec on space, any number of theater-centered theorists from any number of lenses (marxist critique of the gradient trend when?) and so on endlessly. but I'm always overjoyed and intrigued by bdubs' arguments. he's so breezy about it, too, like he's driven toward something he's figuring out for himself and trying to share as he learns. nothin else like it

#peter answers #this is really not even touching the theory but i just. i love bwbs3 so fucking much #mc meta #blogging with bdoubleo #god i miss knl. thanks for being someone else to indulge me on tschumi

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solsticevanfleet · 1 year

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strawberry vines; s.f.k.

chapter one

Pairing: Sam & female!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You had always been passionate about music and marketing, so when your final capstone university project is to create an exhibit with a specific muse, your chance encounter with a small local band leads you to an epiphany for the showcase. You never meant to mix work with play.

WARNINGS: Mild swearing, alcohol mention.

Notes: Hi guys! This is my first time posting fanfic for this fandom and I’m kinda nervous lol. This is an intro chapter to what will become a series. I hope y’all enjoy this plot layout, please let me know what you think! My asks are always open to comments, concerns, and suggestions!

It had always been cold in Clark, but never like it was today. You always brought an extra sweatshirt (sometimes a blanket) in the winter, but today it was nice outside, so you didn’t think too hard about it when you showed up in a flannel. The wind outside was warm, a nice 76 degrees that felt like a Californian beach-side haven compared to the 59-degree library. Courses had begun a week ago and being a senior, graduation could not come faster, though you were pleasantly surprised when the senior advisor offered a new capstone course. Opting for what felt like the ‘easier’ option, you decided to capstone in “American Magazines” rather than write a 25-page paper in some nondescript writing seminar. All magazines are is journalism of some sort… and it fits almost too perfectly considering your little hobby blog kickstarted pretty well this concert season.

It started as a way to get your writing out, a way to combine your love of music with your dream of working in music management and social media. Snippets of concert reviews and novice photos taken on your cheap Nikon camera were littered throughout the blog, as well as album reviews and interviews with amateur bands and musicians. A blog is basically an online magazine, right? You sat down in the surprisingly comfy library chair and skimmed the class’ syllabus, “END OF YEAR EXHIBIT” was displayed in bold caps and seemed to be the assignment of the year: an exhibit dedicated to the subject of your choice, paired with a homemade zine to be handed out to spectators at the show.

Subject of your choice… you wracked your mind, flipping through the mental trading card binders of the musicians you’d worked with in the past, you were sure one of them would be up to the idea of being this semester’s muse.

•

Lecture hall never got better, no matter the course or the people around you. But why would it? It was a lecture hall, but at least your professor seemed nice. Dr. Richards was an older eccentric man who wore his gray hair in a slicked back ponytail. He looked as if he was meant to teach in the fashion department and not in communications, but it made sense as he explained his requirements for the class. After going over the bulk of the syllabus, he went over the end-of-year exhibit in finer detail. It was meant to be a multimedia project where students needed to tie in their overall career goals with, something that reflected what the student had learned in the course as well as their own personality and aspirations. You smiled slightly to yourself, excited about the creative liberties you were being given for the project, and the prospect of being able to design your own exhibit for the public. You hadn’t realized that class ended, and you quickly gathered your things as you rushed to get out, not noticing the tall figure gazing toward you. You looked up and came face to face with your TA for the class.

“Hey, I’m Danny, I noticed you were kinda zoned out for a moment there and wanted to check in,” he chuckled lightheartedly. His hair was done up in what looked like a turquoise claw clip, his curly bangs and front pieces tousled and frizzy. He radiated what could only be described as pure joy, as if he wanted to help in whatever way he could.

“Oh my god, sorry, I do that sometimes, you know, lost in the mind of an artist or whatever, I’m just wracking my brain trying to think about what to do my exhibit on…” You cringed at yourself, “You know what, just ignore me. I’ve seen you around before, actually.” Danny looked surprised, and you could see the wheels in his head turning until his eyes lit up.

“Wait, yeah! I think we have a few mutual friends, small world UMich is. About your exhibit, do you have any ideas so far?”

“Well, I review local musicians and write about their gigs, usually free ones at bars or restaurants. I was thinking about possibly setting something up with maybe a band of students but I don’t really know where to search for one.” You saw Danny’s eyes light up for the second time.

“It’s funny you say that, I have a band and we perform quite a few times a week at The Garage Bar on Church Street, you know the one right?” You nodded as he spoke, a silent yes to his question. “We’re called ‘Greta Van Fleet’. I don’t think my bandmates would mind you coming in for a few practices or gigs, to be honest, I think Josh would love that. Why don’t I give you my number and we can talk about it more later, I’m running late for practice, actually.”

Danny scribbled his number down on a piece of paper and ripped it out of his notebook, handing it to you with a smile and a nod as he rushed out of the hall. You were alone as you gazed down at his hurried scrawl, who the hell is Josh?

•

Thursday night rolled around and you found yourself staring at the mirror, for the millionth time it seemed, deliberating over your outfit. You didn’t care what you wore, really, but you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious all of a sudden, they wouldn’t scrutinize you, right? They’re just a group of young guys- possibly young? Who were you to know if it wasn’t just your TA and a bunch of grandpas? Or maybe dilfs? Who knows, though you semi-wished for dilfs.

You finally settled on a black mini skirt and a plain orange tee with a jacket thrown on top, something safe but still giving the illusion that you might have gave a fuck about your appearance. As you walked out into the brisk autumn air, you shivered and pulled the jacket closer to you, berating yourself for not dressing warmer. It wasn’t too long before you showed up at the address Danny had sent to you a couple of hours prior, accompanied by a few dancing emojis – he was a frequent user of emojis, you had discovered, with the few texts you two had exchanged. You weren’t expecting google maps to take you to a house, maybe a bar or a practice hall of some sort, but it looked like your typical college-aged boys home. Fairy lights which were strung haphazardly over the porch, lawn chairs on the patio, and a turned-over welcome mat greeted you as you rang the doorbell. You could hear the plucking of off-key guitar strings and chatter coming from behind the door, which only heightened your anxiety about this whole evening. You brought along your laptop and camera, hoping maybe to get some off-the-clock practice shots if the band agreed to work with you on the project.

The door suddenly opened and jarred you from your thoughts, a flash of warm light came from inside the house and a curly mop now stood in front of you. Attached to the mess of curls was a bright white smile belonging to a handsome young guy; he couldn’t have been much older than you, 3 years at most.

“Welcome, welcome! You don’t have to stand outside, come in and make yourself at home. We have beer and seltzer in the fridge if you want, or apple juice,” The guy blabbed, ushering you inside the foyer leading into the kitchen and living room.

“Don’t be a dick, she doesn’t want apple juice.” The voice came from beyond the door frame, yelling almost as it berated the man in front of you. As you opened your mouth to speak, almost the exact same motherfucker walked out of the kitchen, “Sorry about Josh, he can be a bit overbearing.”

They had the same look, though this one had long wavy locks and his presence was not as bold, yet he shined as he entered the room. “I’m Jake, and this one is Josh, obviously, I assume youre the girl Danny’s mentioned.” You instantly felt at home, with the yin and yang nature of their contrasting personalities, and you nodded as you looked between the twins.

Josh knocked the back of his hand into Jake’s shoulder, “Lighten up, will ya?”, he turned back to face you. “Let’s go, Danny and Sam are downstairs tuning. Did you need a drink or anything ‘fore we go?”

“Honestly I’m okay, thank you for asking though. Do you have anywhere I could plug in my charger, though?”

“Yeah, just follow me.”

You made your way down the narrow staircase into what felt like a make-shift man cave of sorts, traffic signs, and rock ‘n’ roll memorabilia coated the walls as you entered the dimly lit basement. It smelled of incense, alcohol, and a hint of cologne as the boys ahead of you went straight for their bandmates. There sat Danny, and who you could only assume was Sam. He was hunched over what you thought was a guitar, only it was a light blue, almost green color, something you didn’t usually see. He had long brown hair, brushing his shoulders and wrapped like a halo around his face as his eyes were focused on the strings and his plush lips were mumbling something quietly, too quiet to hear. He seemed to be closest to your age, maybe a bit older, but nothing too crazy. Jake gestured you to the couch, where the outlet was sat directly next to, and you took a seat next to him.

“Nice guitar, I love the color,” you uttered loudly, loud enough to get his attention. He was the only one who hadn’t immediately perked up at your presence, even Danny had greeted you so welcomingly, now occupied with the brothers. This one was seemingly too entranced by the sounds coming out of his instrument as he tuned the strings. At the sound of your voice, he slowly looked up, and you could see he had large, downturned chocolate-colored eyes. He smirked gently, one side of his mouth lifting as he scoffed.

“Thanks, but this is a bass. I understand the confusion though, especially since it is customized. Though, it does look almost brown to me... You don’t get much of those out in the wild.” His eyes quickly scanned your appearance, looking for a comment of his own. “Nice… leaves?”

You glanced down confused by his comment on the color but noticed your tattoo peeking out from under your skirt, “Oh, thank you, they’re berry vines, strawberries actually. You don’t get much of those out in the wild, either.” He chuckled as you smiled to yourself, pleased with your quick wit.

“Well, Berry, it’s nice to meet you. Daniel over here has been talking about you coming over for a week now and I think we’re all a little interested in hearing about this little project of yours.”

“Nicknames already?” Danny chimed in, Sam’s head turning to meet the sound of his voice. “We can talk about logistics later, I have class in the morning so let’s get this shit started.”

The boys all made sounds of agreement and got into position as you looked around and decided to sit on a large purple bean bag chair on the floor, near where Jake was messing around with the pedals next to his feet. It was then that Danny counted them in and Josh’s vocals came in, loud, raw, and powerful, something you didn’t expect to come out of such a small man. The combination of Jake’s electric riffs, Danny’s pounding beat, the smooth and sexy bass lines, and Josh’s voice, you were quite frankly surprised and pleased. When Danny had mentioned a band, you had expected an amateur bunch of musicians trying to mesh their different sounds together, but this band was amazing, sounding as if they had been practicing for years and years together; their chemistry was addicting. As they finished off the song, Josh looked over at you for approval, grinning widely with a sparkle in his eyes really only seen in people who were truly passionate and into their craft. Your only reaction was a dropped jaw.

“That was… insane. Like, I’m blown away to be quite honest, you all work so harmoniously together- how? I mean, you’re all so cohesive.”

“I mean, we’ve been playing together since high school, we got a small following back home because of it but there’s always room to practice.” Jake was so genuine with his responses, probably the most level-headed out of the bunch. You nodded, urging them to tell more. He continued, “It’s been a rollercoaster but we’re looking to reach outside of just local bars and lounges.”

Sam chimed in, “Yeah, I’m kind of sick of college.” he flashed you a smirk, which made your cheeks heat, but you ignored the urge to keep eye contact with him. “Well, I would love to work with you guys this semester… I’ve got good social media skills too if you’d like this to branch outside of academics…,” Even asking the question felt embarrassing to ask, but something inside told you to stick around.

The boys looked around at each other, communicating with their eyes, silently agreeing with nods of approval and shrugs before Josh spoke up, “I think we could swing that.”

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