The wind is gentle today. Opposed to the hurricane weather we have had this week. I’m outside the Hub with my notepad and observing everyone and everything, some people walked passed giving me weird looks. I don’t blame them, if a stranger was staring at me with a notepad I would have done the same. I’m sitting on a steel, I want to say bench but it’s more of an urban bench with an unusual design, as I sat down the coldness startled me, once I grew accustom to it I continued to observe.
The amount of students walking in and out of those glass doors is amazing, if I was to guess my estimate would be more than 400 students a day. Observing the Hub really gave me insight to how many different people are here. There are students in grey joggers, to tight skinny jeans, denim jeans, some shorts and a wide range of different attire. Like a herd of cattle an ensemble of different coloured hoodies, jumpers and t-shirts walk in and as like a substitute even more students come out continuing the cycle of different colours.
As I go to put pen to paper I jump out my skin, little thanks to the pneumatic drill opposite me. The man with the luminous jacket seemed to be enjoying himself as he repeatedly struck the earth with the drill. Student’s walked past on their mobiles annoyed from the on-going noise. I see a girl, no younger than 21 I would say; possibly a first year. She has a green Edge Hill hoodie and grey jogging pants with white trainers, what caught my attention was the way she started to sing Adele’s Set Fire To The Rain, I hate to be mean but I thought thank god for the pneumatic drill, I’m pretty sure the girl to my left with metal in her face or snake-bits whatever they’re called was pretty thankful too.
As it’s close to lunch my stomach sounds like an angry dog growling demanding to be fed. But observing has really took control over me; students walk out with hot dogs And plus the welcoming scent from the canteen is torture to me.
One final observation now, as I look to my left and then my right and straight forward to the Hub I’m pretty pleased I picked this place. Because in three years, that’s a whole lot of mass observation.
Dale Curran
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Thoughts on Mass Observation 2011
This year we have had a good response to the request for views of the University, recorded simultaneously. The last entry here comments: 'To my right, three students are standing with notepads in hands most likely jotting down the same things I’m scratching into this sheet of paper'. What is fascinating is that, although the students are looking at the same thing (the University itself), each individual sees something completely different. The effect of reading them all is of looking at a multi-faceted diamond. I hope you enjoy the view(s), and stretch further into the archive to see what was seen last year and the year before that!
Robert Sheppard
Professor of Poetry and Poetics
Edge Hill University
Ormskirk
Lancaster
L39 4QP
Learn more about the University here
and about the Creative Writing programme here
Robert Sheppard
Professor of Poetry and Poetics
Edge Hill University
Ormskirk
Lancaster
L39 4QP
Learn more about the University here
and about the Creative Writing programme here
The Last Mass Observation this year
My Observation of Edge Hill UniversityOne, two, three agents surround the entrance to the university. The Edge Hill University faculty team. To my right, three students are standing with notepads in hands most likely jotting down the same things I’m scratching into this sheet of paper, further down next to them another student sits down carving into her notebook and at her left two senior citizens (most likely staff) are crouched over their laptops. In front of me a young man attired in the most casual shirt and jeans stands with a look of bemusement hanging on his face; probably wandering why him and the creative writing party have been given such a hopeless task. His expression and his thoughts are quickly shared by the rest of his fellow peers. Now the vicinity of the main entrance resembles a group of guards preventing the access to a restricted zone flooded with harmful chemicals, and a hoard of scientists recording every detail and possible revelation the event may bring.
Flowing into the body of this institution is the best life has to offer, but looking out of it makes me wonder if where being selfish. It seems like the rest of the world is missing out on the marvellous attractions this place has on show, attractions which are no doubt exaggerated by the poor unlucky folk who are unaware of life within this educational fortress. Its green fields are perfectly complemented by the classic designs of the buildings adjacent to it, bastions of knowledge ready to fly the flags of progression and learning by any means necessary.
The university itself is a beatific smile to those outside it, an artificial expression created by those who so badly want to utilise and better the talents and abilities of the young. This seems like a harmless goal at first thought, but when I stare at the beauty of Edge Hill University an unexpected uncomfortable feeling is brought to me, this institution is an almost perfect lie that stresses and promises that everything is and will be OK, when all know that it never quite is.
Akeem Balogun
Flowing into the body of this institution is the best life has to offer, but looking out of it makes me wonder if where being selfish. It seems like the rest of the world is missing out on the marvellous attractions this place has on show, attractions which are no doubt exaggerated by the poor unlucky folk who are unaware of life within this educational fortress. Its green fields are perfectly complemented by the classic designs of the buildings adjacent to it, bastions of knowledge ready to fly the flags of progression and learning by any means necessary.
The university itself is a beatific smile to those outside it, an artificial expression created by those who so badly want to utilise and better the talents and abilities of the young. This seems like a harmless goal at first thought, but when I stare at the beauty of Edge Hill University an unexpected uncomfortable feeling is brought to me, this institution is an almost perfect lie that stresses and promises that everything is and will be OK, when all know that it never quite is.
Akeem Balogun
Monday, October 03, 2011
Mass Observation
Entry
I make my way toward the main entrance of the latest chapter in my life. Faces different to those I am used to roam the campus grounds; confusion cascading down their cheeks, much like my own. For once, people won’t be the subject of this task. Instead buildings speak their own truths in tongues I can somehow relate to. The trees sway in the autumn wind, as if to exhibit my own feelings of uncertainty; as pen finally touches paper and my journey begins. My eyes are poised on the brilliant white veranda, timeless as it stands in the centre of the historic building. Its wings are clipped, as it watches over the space of its kingdom. I am an intruder, unworthy to stand upon the ground it will never touch; the twisted humour of an architect.
I am drawn to the intangible beauty of the family beneath the tree to my right. They know nothing of the world outside. Instead, the mother embraces her children lovingly, even as they stand eternally in a skin of wood; so too does their perpetual ‘Eden’ with one another. I envy them. I feel a cold stare above me and notice the gargoyle heads atop the rotating doorway. They seem unsure of what to make of their latest inhabitant. They appear to grin as my focus shifts once again.
My thoughts suddenly evade me. Instantaneously, the uproar of industrial diggers sends reality surging in their place. Voices of others remind me of their presence, their purpose perhaps similar to my own. I look again at the gargoyle twins and feel my lips crease into a smile. They knew that would happen. I take this as affirmation of entry. I close my journal and salute the pair of mavericks, before revolving into a portal of the unknown.
Marko Vujnovic
I make my way toward the main entrance of the latest chapter in my life. Faces different to those I am used to roam the campus grounds; confusion cascading down their cheeks, much like my own. For once, people won’t be the subject of this task. Instead buildings speak their own truths in tongues I can somehow relate to. The trees sway in the autumn wind, as if to exhibit my own feelings of uncertainty; as pen finally touches paper and my journey begins. My eyes are poised on the brilliant white veranda, timeless as it stands in the centre of the historic building. Its wings are clipped, as it watches over the space of its kingdom. I am an intruder, unworthy to stand upon the ground it will never touch; the twisted humour of an architect.
I am drawn to the intangible beauty of the family beneath the tree to my right. They know nothing of the world outside. Instead, the mother embraces her children lovingly, even as they stand eternally in a skin of wood; so too does their perpetual ‘Eden’ with one another. I envy them. I feel a cold stare above me and notice the gargoyle heads atop the rotating doorway. They seem unsure of what to make of their latest inhabitant. They appear to grin as my focus shifts once again.
My thoughts suddenly evade me. Instantaneously, the uproar of industrial diggers sends reality surging in their place. Voices of others remind me of their presence, their purpose perhaps similar to my own. I look again at the gargoyle twins and feel my lips crease into a smile. They knew that would happen. I take this as affirmation of entry. I close my journal and salute the pair of mavericks, before revolving into a portal of the unknown.
Marko Vujnovic
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