The Start of Something

I haven’t submitted a pset in 207 days. That’s not to say there are psets that have gone unsubmitted; rather, I’ve just been on leave, working at Formlabs until I can safely be back at MIT, closer than 6 feet away from my peers. There was a bit of an adjustment period, going from sporadic all-nighters in the studio to a routine 9-5, but I’ve since settled into a cozy work/life balance and really dug into my work: making things that make things. I’ve been smitten with 3D printers since I built my first one a half decade ago, so getting to spend my days as a print process engineer has been incredibly fulfilling. 

And so, as someone spending 40 hours a week exploring the technicalities of sintering together nylon powder with 9500 milliwatts worth of laser beam, it came as a surprise that my identity would begin to shift to the artistic. You see, I’ve never been an artist. A maker? Sure. A researcher, a designer, an engineering intern? Absolutely. But never an artist. My major might read “Art & Design”, but I was always just in it for the design -- or so I told myself. After all, I didn’t have a knack for capturing the essence of something with paint or graphite or clay, didn’t pick up a paintbrush and feel comfort or confidence.

But then I look back on my free time since starting at my technical job, and I see it dominated by art: the planter lamp I tried to kickstart, the filter I coded as part of a photography spread for the Infinite magazine, the Sol LeWitt line art that I recreated computationally. It’s not that I couldn’t make things that were beautiful, it’s just that my tools happen to look more like 3d modelling and coding than a paintbrush or pencil. I can make something that evokes a reaction in someone, I just might not make that thing by hand.