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Alex hails from the beautiful island of St. Thomas in the Caribbean Sea. For the past three years, she has happily traded in her beach life for life on the farm and will be graduating this June with a B.A. in Psychology. Next year, Alex has chosen to further develop her interest in human behavior by co-terming in Sociology with a concentration in Organizational Behavior. On campus, Alex can be found enjoying the Stanford sunshine, taking photos at Lake Lag, and drinking coffee in the afternoon at Coupa. Alex sees the Stanford campus as the perfect place to combine her passion for art with her scientific curiosities.

Alex Scully

Yes, and…

Dear Reader,

Thank you for taking the time to read my final reflection piece for The Senior Reflection (TSR) capstone course. I’ve organized my reflection into sections titled: Four years ago, which highlights a snapshot from my adolescence in St. Thomas; To The 2013 Senior Reflection Class, a few parting thoughts as my senior classmates embark on new adventures; Think “Yes and”, a explanation of the sentiment behind my final TSR project; A Macroscopic Look at Microscopic Photography, an exploration of the methodology behind “Yes and”; and finally To My Future Self, a few personal words. Each section echoes a different sentiment, journey, and perspective I experienced throughout my TSR journey and senior year. All the pieces arch together to move throughout different experiences and personal thoughts. Looking back, I am truly grateful for my TSR experience and looking forward, I am thrilled to see where it takes me in the future.

~Four years ago,

I am so high right now. Fear and physical disbelief surge through my body; my breath is slow and deliberate in an attempt to keep my nerves from hardening into my pit of my stomach. I need to do this. I can’t wait any longer. I turn to my dad.

“Now?”

“Sure, but let me get the camera.”

I heard, “Go now.”

My muscles tighten, contract, and I leap forward from a knee-bent stance. Slow steady breaths become one cold gasp as my toes un-grip the ledge. My brain is 100% wired and aware of the action my body has, unreasonably, committed to. I hang in the air for a brief second only to I begin falling faster than I’ve ever imagined through sixty feet of air; no strings, no help, and nothing but the law of gravity as my guide. “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, fo----.” Water.

Growing up in the Virgin Islands gave me a sweet taste of an adolescent life, a well-lived first step. Island life taught me to break away from the normal. Over the course of eighteen years, I lived by words like: Don’t think. Don’t get logical. If you find something that is raw or real don’t be afraid. Just do it. Jump.
When I first came to Stanford I didn’t expect to fit in. I was going to keep my head down and grind it out for four years. I kept thinking: the next four are for my parents and when I’m done I’ll slip back into my adolescent life pretending that Stanford never happened. I was so wrong. Stanford helped me say what I’ve always felt: that that imagination is essential. A person’s willingness to step up and step in; be open to argument and interested in evidence; seize every opportunity to build a better future and define history. At Stanford, I learned it was ok to dream, dream bigger, and dream beyond my wildest dreams.

Today is June 1st, my senior year will come to a close in a few short weeks and once again I am standing on that ledge with my eyes on the horizon; taking slow and steady breaths and about to take a leap of faith. I find myself surely unsure, naively confident, and unexplainably explainable; happy, confused, lonely, awake, and numb all at once. However, this time, I don’t know where I am going to fall. But that’s what life is about right? Getting over your bullshit, taking one cold breath, and going for it.

~To The 2013 Senior Reflection Class,

Can you believe we steps from graduation? I can’t. It’s weird to think that in the next few weeks our academic minds will be certifiably valid. I mean, that’s what a diploma is right? An iconic academic gold star of just how prepared you are to take on the world’s issues. Not for me, within the past few days I’ve come to the conclusion that commencement is not going to give me a gold star on my future. In fact, the recent encroachment of my diploma has only further triggered my meek response to future-related questions, “No, I don’t have a clue I want to do with my life.” Yikes.

Though my future is undecided, I like to consistently remind myself of one absolute fact, “I am twenty-two years old. ” For many, I’m still a child and that’s ok with me. It’s socially acceptable for me to be foolish, passionate, and bent on an idea that may or may not be 100% correct. I get to stay hungry and stay foolish (thanks S.J) and continue to jump into unknown waters. Most importantly, however, my age brings on for certain: I will no longer answer questions like 5 + 5 = ____? No, I’m no longer going to be given this problem and asked to find a solution. Instead, I’ll be privileged to be presented with, ___ + ___ = 10 and asked to consider as many possible explanations as I can think of to answer a seemingly simple question.

Right now, our world is plagued with seemingly simple questions: Increasing carbon plus a decreasing atmospheric layer equals what? An aging population minus proper health care equals a, b, or c? A multiplying online culture divided by a lack of privacy rights will resemble what proof? These seemingly simple questions are, of course, not simple. However, we have framed these problems to create simple solutions, 5 +5 = 10.

I know it’s cliché to quote Albert Einstein, but he was a pretty smart guy so, “If I had an hour to solve a problem and my life depended on the solution, I would spend the first fifty-five minutes determining the proper question to ask, for once I know the proper question, I could solve the problem in less than five minutes.” It’s crucial that we reframe the way we ask questions and consider problems in order to create earthshattering, ground-breaking solutions.

~Think, “Yes and”

This year has been a rollercoaster, but through Bio 196 A, B, & C: The Senior Reflection, I’ve have the time and space to frame and reframe few of of my own problems. Mind you, the process most definitely wasn’t easy. I failed a ton, but in the end, I’m proud of my project and myself. For my capstone project, I created a photography exhibit titled “Yes and…” The title, “Yes and” stems from an improve mind-set that encourages growth and endless possibilities. No matter what is happening in the improvisational scene, your job is to build from the scenario; you are only allowed to think “Yes and” It’s an open-ended, positive approach that is aimed at helping actors and actresses embrace the ideas of their colleagues, flip them, argue with them, agree with them, but first and foremost consider them.

To me, The Senior Reflection class provides a space where students can use a “Yes and” mindset. For the majority of the year, students are encouraged to brainstorm, work, and rework projects of their choosing. Through the combination of science and art, students are able to create new representations of their inner passions and begin thinking of science and art as one.
My project, “Yes and” was drawn from the lessons I learned throughout TSR and was sparked by a quote I stumbled across a few weeks before the final Senior Reflections showcase. The quote was by Victor Hugo in Les Miserables and read, “Where the telescope ends, the microscope begins. Which has the grander view?” I was definitely a late bloomer, but I finally knew what question I wanted to consider for my TSR project. Thanks to the understanding hearts of my Professors Susan McConnell and Andrew Todhunter, I was able to rearrange my project and compose a gallery devoted to showcasing the beauty of the microscopic world; even in the final stretch of TSR I was still given the space to use a “Yes and” mindset. Looking back, the ethos behind my project stems from a single goal: to give viewers a taste of what a “Yes and” mindset feels like; to prompt someone to reconsider the way they see the natural world around them by highlighting science’s convergent way of thinking and it’s artistic splendors.

~A Macroscopic Look at Microscopic Photography

After my “Yes and” moment of self-reflection, I hit the ground running. The clock was on and I only had a few weeks to come up with a completed series of images that I felt would make TSR proud. It helped that I already knew what part of the microscopic world I wanted to photograph: microscopic images of composites and thin sections found in the Geological and Environmental Science laboratories.

Freshman year I took GES 39N: Forensic Geoscience, Stanford CSI with Professor Kate Maher. The class was an introductory seminar that looked at how geological principles could be used to solve modern crime investigations. My favorite class was when Professor Maher allowed us to use the top-notch equipment in the Geoscience lab so we could get a better understanding of our minerals and composites. Walking into the Geoscience lab I felt like walking into Tron. It was so cool. Everything within the realm of Geoscience seemed possible there. When or minerals and composites under the high-magnification microscope came up on the screen I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; the detail, resolution, and quality of the image blew my mind; it felt like seeing stars up-close for the first time. Those images of “stars on earth” stuck with me so much that in an instant I knew I wanted to photograph and display of small thin-sections of minerals and composites for TSR. As luck would have it after four years, Kate Maher was still present in the Geological and Environmental Sciences community and was eager to help.

My methodology behind photographing, printing, and displaying the developed images are as follows. To photograph each slide, I loaded a slide of my choice into a Nikon Optiphot-Pol light microscope in the Geoscience lab. The microscope is specially designed to have a Nikon D70s camera system attached to a second visual scope. The thin sections I used were categorized according to field book, which correlated to a number system of current experiments. The camera and microscope took a few steps to set up: turning on the microscope, setting the light intensity between 6 and 12, adjusting the camera’s depth of field to range between .3 and .4, and setting the IOS to 200 on the manual setting. After the image looked clear and in focus (I would test this at different magnifications), I would snap a photo. Beyond my first image with the thin section, I would begin to experiment with different light filters in hopes of highlighting specific minerals or composites within the slide. Over the course of seven or eight lab sessions, I photographed over fifty slides (many of which were of the same mineral or composite categorization).

After photographing, I complied my material and set out to tell a story of the microscopic world. I picked tem images that ranged in texture, composition, density, and subject. On Photoshop, to preserve the color after printing, I increased the saturation and sharpness of the photo. I printed each photograph on 8.5”x11” Pictorico Premium OHP Transparency Film in paper in the Stanford Photography department. To improve the saturation and quality of each image, I double printed each selected imaged and overlaid the photos; i.e. the photo you see in Wallenburg is two photos and not just one. I chose this technique to help give the photo an improved sense of depth and texture. To matte and frame each photo, I had to cut each image down by 1” and matted each photo in a preordered black 8.5”x11” frame.

After framing and organizing the photographs, I hung five images in a doorway in Glallery 160 in Wallenburg Hall. To do so, I stuck each photo to the glass windowpane in Wallenburg hall; thankfully, the dimensions fit perfectly in the two window panels I chose. I hung ten images total, five images on the left windowpane and five images on the right windowpane. I chose to hang the images directly on the window so that light may pass through the transparent image, illuminating it like it would under a light microscope. Displaying the transparent images on the windowpanes also forces viewers to see both the photo and the world behind it. Behind each image in Wallenburg, you can see the quad, students passing by, and the world outside. To me, hanging the photos on the windows harks back to the underlying sentiment of my TSR project; you can always reframe what is in front of you because everything can be seen through a different light.

To go with the “Yes and” approach, I included in my Artist Statement a few prompting words. I encouraged viewers to take a step back and let his or her imagination explore the possibilities of what the images may mean. During the Senior Reflection Reception on May 29th when the gallery opened, I got the chance to sit back and observe how people viewed the photographs for the first time. I heard people look at the photos, look at the description, and then take a step back. I overheard phrases like starry night, space, aerial shots, and abstract art. I saw people get really close to an image, but were they looking at every inch of the photo I took or looking at the environment found beyond the picture? Hearing the murmurs of onlookers helped me feel like my project was a success; even for a short amount of time the images displayed on the windowpanes encouraged viewers to think outside of the box, look closely at what was there, or see beyond what was in front of them.

To me, each photo is like a fingerprint and echoes the unique nature of the represented composite or mineral; each slide has it’s own story. My favorite print, however, is the second-photo from the top on the left windowpane. The mineral displayed is an amagemisum iron silicate called Olivine. Like many members of the common magnesium group, iron silicate minerals like Olivines are found in many igneous rocks and are a major constituent of the Earth’s upper mantle. Aside from its aesthetically beautiful high relief and striking ability to capture different shades of ice blue, Olivine may have a beautiful practical purpose in the world’s future. Today, in the Geoscience lab here at Stanford, Olivine and the processes associated with the mineral are under research for cheap ways to sequester CO2. When olivine-rich locations are crushed by water pressure deep within the earth’s crust, the magnesium atoms in Olivine combine readily with CO2 to form molecules of magnesite. Researchers are now trying to consider how to replicate this process on the Earths surface.

Overall, after spending many hours in the Geoscience lab, the photography department, and Wallenburg Hall, I was able to display ten different images of composites and minerals. Looking ahead, I am considering doing additional pieces stylistically similar to “Yes and”. For the next iteration of my project, I would hope to do a singular, large-scale print so that the image would draw more focus and attention . I would also like to make the images transportable so I wouldn’t have to rely a hanging the images in a window; i.e. large movable frames that can be wheeled into the center of a room. Regardless of how the next “Yes and” project will look later on, it will have stemmed from my Senior Reflection final project.

~To My Future Self,

[I’ll keep it quick, you are probably busy.] There are three things in life that will never leave you: your glory days (triumphs and victories), your failures (traumas and pains), and your endless dreaming (everything in between). These emotions, experiences, and thoughts will forever be yours, use them wisely. But never forget that above all, the only thing you can’t get back is time with the people you love. Glory, epic failure, and enchanting dreams will come, but they will amount to nothing if you experience them alone.

This year was about figuring out what was truly important: people who care, people who are real, and people who aren’t afraid to love you for who you are. Never forget this lesson you learned as a senior at Stanford. At times, this lesson may seem difficult to remember, but there are fabulous people in the world and you were luckily enough to know them. Remember Patrick Freeman’s compassion for elephants, Arie Kim’s playful way of seeing the world, Maya Talbott’s soft, kind words, Sierra Burden’s bravery for sharing her life, all the members of The Senior Reflection, and the Last Great Class of Stanford 2013; they care, they are real, and they will forever live in your heart.

Thank you.

If you are a senior and currently considering taking The Senior Reflection----do it! TSR will change your world in more ways than one.

Warmly,
Alex Scully, Proud Member of the 2013 Senior Reflection Class!!!