Mass Observation 2016: Brunch, Male Genitalia and Bedhead's Stubble

A Blackbird’s Brunch at Edge HIll

 

The Arts Centre. The place in which your character can be anything you want it to be, and your imagination is free to take over and control you.

Costumes. There is nothing more powerful than the transformation of an individual through their outfit. Bursts of gold, pleats and ruffles and spirals of black and red are contrasting with the gentle pastels on falling, elegant chiffon. A medieval theme seems to be occurring here.

People. Everywhere. Milling around. Taking things in. Having coffee. Relaxing with friends. Laughter fills the red painted walls. A small group of girls are dancing to Beyonce in the right-hand corner of the social area; whether for fun or for routine, they seem to be enjoying what they are doing. Another group of students are in the opposite corner, stood and sat down, practising their lines for an upcoming play. Possibly Goodbye Gunther, which is the next theatre production to be shown here. The atmosphere inside this bustling building is juxtaposed with the view from outside of the window in which I am sat.

Outside, everything is purely tranquil. A beautiful peaceful aurora graces this part of the campus. It would make the perfect picnic spot in summer. Looking out here, one can only imagine the many groups of friends sat here at many times of the year, or lone individuals on a lunch break, head in a book. Oak trees gracefully dance in the gentle wind. The grass, freshly cut, is filled with an overlay of rustic, brown and orange leaves – autumn has arrived now.

A hopeful blackbird comes for his brunch on the opposite side of this pane of glass, but evidently has no success, and flies on its search for its meal.

The occasional lost –and no doubt, hungover- first year crosses the path at the side of the building, but none stop to appreciate the fine metal sculptures or picturesque scenery – presumably because they’re late for a lecture.

Beyond the circumference of the Arts Centre, the student information centre is bustling with busy students: “What do I do about this?”, “Where can I find that?” – You can almost hear the anxiety in their voices.

Upstairs, theatre halls are currently being set up for ‘Free Film Fridays”, which I suspect will be popular with the newcomers; after all, nobody in the right mind would turn down a free night out.

The weather slowly takes a turn, and the clouds gradually make a move over the sun. The wind’s pace fastens, and students are now wearing jackets over their summer t-shirts. Sudden temperature drops and chilly mornings like this bring out the inner excitement for autumnal events.

Sitting here, watching, keeping to yourself and your thoughts, over a warm cappuccino makes one wonder about the lives that all of these people lead. The man over there in blue jeans could be the next scientist, who may find the cure to many illnesses, he may have a wife and a dog, they may already be successful. The girl sat in the corner with her earphones in may be the next huge fashion icon, she may be obsessed with vogue and indie music, off to every gig with all of her best friends. Who knows what kind of lives these strangers lead, or whom they are about to become. Only time will tell.

 

Rachel Whittingham

 

The green outline of male genitalia

 

10:40 AM

Two mallards, one male and one female, waddle across the grass by the sports track and pause momentarily by a large tree.


10:49 AM

You can tell a lot about a student by the sticky notes they choose to display in their windows. For example, the owner of this particular flat is presumably fan of retro game characters. They, whosoever they might be, have gone through the trouble of assembling little squares of sticker paper in the forms of a space invader and pac-man villain.

The flat opposite which shows the green outline of male genitalia, however… Well, that speaks for itself.


10:54 AM

A young woman plods up the path, hugging her arms close to her chest and keeping her eyes trained on the floor.


11.20

Two students sit side-by-side, one contentedly typing on his laptop and the other scribbling in a notebook. They don’t communicate to each other but, appear comfortable in each others presence. Simply knowing they aren’t alone is enough to keep them going. They look across at each other in wordless acknowledgement of this unspoken fact.

 

Kaden James

 

 

 

Bedhead and Stubble

 

A tractor slowly hums its way through the army of parked cars. The danger that it might hit one of them seems to be increasing as it turns its corner, but it made it safely out of the metal maze. Now that it's drudged behind me I feel rather scared for the poor thing; I doubt I've ever heard such an almighty racket! I wouldn't be surprised to turn around and find half the running track torn apart. 

Two blokes with bedhead and stubble just passes, glaring at me with deadpan eyes. Even if I hadn't looked up their aura of judgement radiated too strongly for me to ignore. Another girl followed them just behind; her contempt expression regarding life indicated that 10:50 may be a tad too early for her. It doesn't help either that she reeked of smoke and dropped her used fag to the ground as she walked away.
Then again, a couple just bounced past giggling. It's refreshing to know that not everybody is all doom and gloom before lunchtime. Perhaps they're enjoying this short patch of nature that interludes the overpowering sense of industrialisation. 

The trees are blowing stereotypically in the wind that's freezing the tips of my fingers.

To my left 4 men are having a good chat, chuckling away at each other’s jokes.  They seem to be lecturers, a student with untamed shaggy hair is asking them directions. Unfortunately one of them, the shortest with a magnificently twirled moustache, has spotted me staring at him. I doubt he approves of such peculiar behaviour, judging from his short decision for him and his friends to venture back inside where warmth awaits. 

A girl with long, pampered hair just strutted past giving the world her best 'cool kid' swagger. Her fur coat I can empathise with though, the wind's picked up brought a nasty chill along with it. My fellow creative writing student and I have both progressed now to sniffing where necessary and wrapping up as tightly as our coats will allow. 

I do find the traffic cones quite amusing. They've placed them hopefully between the road and the grass, but I fail to believe that if a grumpy driver didn't already know to drive one the road, a few small orange triangles are hardly going to provide much direction here. 

The campus has really hushed up now, even the distant rumble of cars on the motorway mixed with the profanity I can hear in a nearby flat can't really ruin this idyll. One bird is floating above the car park alone. Not in a lonely way, it just seems to be playing a game in a naturally graceful way. It'll swoop low to the cars, seeing how close it can get without touching them, before rising to the skies. Personally I think it's a bit of a show off, but I do hope that the other birds are watching from all their respective trees so this acrobatic display won't have gone to waste in the aviary community. 

A man in pale blue just walked past dragging a bin so large that the nearby skips may well get rather jealous. He's paused for a moment down the path, just long enough for the garbage smell to drift downwind to me. I'm disappointed in the surrounding pine trees, I thought they were supposed to be a fragrant constituent of nature, but they've failed to drown out the repugnant stench of rot now filling the air. 

I briefly abandoned my post just now; somebody mentioned "Free hot dogs in the Hub" and, as a student, I feel I was obligated to follow that lead. I'm eating it now, and it's delicious!

 

 

Callum Trueman