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Home Centennial College Blog 2014 February 19 Life as a Story Arts Centre student

Life as a Story Arts Centre student

story arts centre exterior

Hello Scholars!

In only a few weeks reading week will be upon us-signaling the middle of the semester. I’m floored by how fast things are going, and also exhilarated because that means my first year is almost over. I really love the campus I belong to as well; it makes the time well spent. Life as a Story Arts Centre student is utterly sublime, and I say that because I am a Story Arts Center student-so I might be biased. In the mornings, the campus is completely quiet save for the gentle swell of the piano someone usually plays. In the afternoon, everything is a buzz with laughter and the flash of cameras as film and broadcast students capture moments on campus. In the evenings that light flare goes out, which the fine arts students utilize to immortalize the dying sun. And all throughout the day, Journalism students wield in and out of crowds vying for your comments on the latest political scandal. See through my eyes-and witness a day in the life of a Story Arts Centre student.

 Its Monday, and the beginning of a new week and I usually wander in around 8am. I do this, so I can pick up a Toronto Star to arm myself for my Reporting class later that day. The sun is just peeking through the clouds, and the campus is slumberous. The first haunting notes of Hedwigs theme waltzes through the air, then fills the corridors till you feel as if you’re a Hogwarts student returned from the holidays. A solitary student is playing, eyes closed and head down as if lost in the music. It’s such a nice start to the morning that I opt for a pastry from the cafeteria while I enjoy this symphony. Now I might be exaggerating, but I consider anything from Harry Potter to be golden. This student continues playing softly until getting up for their first class of the day. And before the seat can get cold, another takes it’s warmth to play the first chords of Your Song. I too drift to my first class of the day, my paper creased but read and my mind crammed but sweet.

 It’s a Wednesday, and the sun has dappled the floors and walls. The corridors are packed with students teeming towards the cafeteria. Some of those students have DSLR’s, and are pointing and capturing the mass exodus that is lunch-time. Some of these camera wielding students are scrambling outside and filming each other, or have captured a live subject for further analysis. Their faces are unreadable as they film your every move, and mumble to each other in a different language only DSLR savvy people understand. After they’ve finished analyzing your movements and facial expressions they high-tail it back to their studios to compute the data. I always manage to dodge them. I’m terribly shy, and don’t like being on camera but will need to get over that since I’m a Journalism student. After the lunch rush is over the corridors clear, and classes are once more in session.

 It’s Thursday, and the school day is almost over as classes are just ending. But a select few lurk in the shadows with their canvases and paintbrushes, they’re eyes are focused on the play of light and shadow. I'm taking an photography class, so I know some key terms but nothing can teach me talent, of the kind these students exhibit.  Sometimes when I wait for my ride home, I spy them with calculating looks on their faces trying to capture the evening sky. One girl is poised a few feet down from me, her eyes unblinking and her hand fastened around a brush. She’s painting without looking at her canvas, and I can only imagine the outcome. Her work may end up on the walls like other artists, or she may simply be painting to exert her creativity.As I leave for the day, my mind is fried but dazed with wonder.

 Throughout the week, Journalists like myself witness these moments and catalogue it into our minds for future feature stories. There are so many things happening in the news, but at school there is just as much intrigue in these halls that we consider our second home.

 This is life at the Story Arts Centre.

 I hope you enjoyed seeing through my whisky eyes, until next time!