Let Me Tell You About My Subject...

Curiously waiting to begin our project, I sat in an armchair which faced the entire library room. I have to admit that I felt a little uneasy as I began seeking out my victim amongst the crowd of people congregated in the small, but comfortable lair. Although it was tempting to choose one of the energetic movie producers as my main subject of interest, my instincts lead me to focus on a lonely man slouching in an armchair on the opposite end of the room. Interestingly enough, one of our classmates had voluntarily sat in the armchair next to me, and who was just as uneasy about this project as I was, selected the same man to inspect and analyze during our 55 minute class period. While observing my prey carefully, my first presumptions lead me to believe he, along with the couple on the couch placed near the adjacent wall, were aware of the project we WSC1 students were involved in. But after discussing the project’s atmosphere and subjects involved, Professor Lay explained that no one, other than the student filming crew, had any prior knowledge of the project before coming to the library. Surprised by this fact, I realized that my analysis of my subject’s intentions for his actions would have to be altered.

I carefully watched him, trying to capture every detail about him that was needed for this project. I was a lion, stalking my prey in the middle of the grassland field, ready to pounce on my paper and record his every move. My subject on the other hand had a careless attitude regarding the situation. Seemingly naïve to the distractions around him, my subject just stared at his paper. But even this action was not even worth doing because his enthusiasm was that of a sloth. His guppy-like eyes gazed at the paper, settled in on one spot. He wasn’t actually reading the paper, but just seeing it, maintaining a dissociative mindset with his thoughts obviously somewhere else. Every move was painfully slow. Lifelessly looking up from his stack of papers he clasped in his hands, he would settle on the chaos taking place in front of him. Then, when he decided that his interest could only last so long on the energetic film producers, he returned to rest his eyes once again on the oh-so-intriguing paper held in his grasp. Watching my subject for about 25 minutes, I could recognize a distinct pattern. When he thought that he was worthy of taking a small break from his ruthlessly boring stack of papers, he would ease his eyes off, scan the room for about a minute and then regretfully return to the same paper he had been staring at all along. He would do this multiple times, never shifting his body, other than swiveling his head when he periodically swayed his eyes off the paper, shifting his vision around the room.

Initially, I had thought that the man I was observing knew about the stalking project. His moves were gracefully slow and his eyes held a dissatisfied look as he peered at his paper. His repetitive actions made me assume that he knew he was being watched because every move he made was in a conscious effort. His pose was that of a walking monk; his head bowed, shoulders comfortable, but sturdy and back slouched over. His position gave off the impression that his motives for being at the library were undesirable. So, I came to the conclusion that he forced himself to go, although he would rather have not been there at all. To my surprise, after the project was completed, Professor Lay informed me that no one in the library, other than the movie producers, knew about the projects in advance; not even my subject. This new knowledge altered my reactions to my subject completely. Instead of putting on a show, this man was just going about his normal business. I was so profoundly amazed with this fact because this concluded that his action of simply staring at one piece of paper for at least twenty minutes was his decision. Either he is really is not motivated to do anything, he didn’t get enough sleep the night before, or he just couldn’t focus on the piece of paper in form of him because of all the distractions. I know the last possible conclusion could not be true, because he was not intrigued at all by the commotion he saw. If anyone else were in his situation, I believe they would at least react a little when seeing two film producers in front of him/her debate about the filming angles. This realization led me to conclude that he must be both tired and contain a personality that is unmotivationally subdued and the rusting car in the junk yard that I was staring at needed a wake-up call so that he can perk up and get more involved in life.