Gallery hoppers, Spotify stalkers, bookworms, Letterboxd users and anyone who enjoys art, this is the place for you. Makes Ya Feel highlights art across all of its mediums, small and large-scale, that (you guessed it) makes ya feel!
I categorize my experiences based on the things I enjoyed at a particular time. Often, this boils down to art; an album that provided a compelling soundtrack, a movie that I saw parts of myself in or a painting that imprinted itself upon me. I started this column a little over two years ago with the intention of having it as a time capsule, but it quickly became so much more.
I have not written a piece for this column all semester, not because I was too busy, but because I’ve been saving it for the last issue. I’ve been keeping score of what art has most accurately encapsulated my senior spring, and I am finally ready to share it. Although it feels like my goodbyes have become a laundry list, revisiting my senior spring this way has helped me to take a step back and appreciate it all.
Uncertainly certain: ‘Ooh Rap I Ya’ by George Clanton
Clanton’s music is hard to categorize; it thrashes and whispers and flows. “Ooh Rap I Ya”, Clanton’s third studio album, is certainly no exception, operating within the tension between getting older yet wanting to feel young. Many songs on the album are simple in lyrics, often repeating a phrase or two, yet instrumentally layered. While this has been met with criticism, I have found it a perfect companion to my senior spring. When even the small things like weather feel so uncertain, it’s nice to have a few mantras bouncing between your ears.
The titular track features Clanton’s signature drawl as he claims “The best times are yet to come / To spend life split tangled up” before a jazzy instrumental break washes over, splitting hairs in its mystical honesty. In contrast to this hopefulness, “F.U.M.L.” is a noisy confession where Clanton laments, “And I’m feeling like I’m fucking up my life” while sporadic beeps and lasers interject. The tension between these two songs perfectly encapsulates the question that permeates all young people’s minds; how do you look forwards when you feel like you’re pushing yourself backwards?
“Everything I Want”, is a cosmic love song where Clanton claims “I would never leave my room / If I close my eyes and see / No one but you.” It’s a sprawl where desire and appreciation become dependent on one another. In my favorite track, “I’ve Been Young”, Clanton’s drawl becomes a whine that yells “Can’t you see how life is blinding you? / Growing up is never easy.”
“Ooh Rap I Ya” is an album where reconciliations puncture your ears, honesty seeps into the cracks, everything is in flux and yet there is something glorious to find within it all.
Going beyond: ‘Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives’ by Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Weerasethakul is a Thai independent film director, writer and producer known for blending ordinary life with mystical worlds. “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives” follows Boonmee, who is slowly dying. In this limbo, he is able to reconnect with those from his past, some who have been dead for quite some time and some who he has lost touch with. It is also how we learn more about Boonmee’s life.
What makes the film particularly compelling is that nothing is explained; Boonmee’s son appears at the dinner table as a hairy beast with glowing red eyes, spirits come and go and a princess guides Boonmee to a strange waterfall. As we go down these ghostly pathways of memory, we also learn that Boonmee has some regrets, making the past something that is both sentimental and haunting.
My favorite parts of the film are the open, wide shots that invite you to look at every corner of your screen. The pacing of the film moves slowly, and thus the camera follows suit. What results is a meditative and verdant world that lets you get comfortable in it.
While the mythical elements may initially seem bizarre, they are ultimately used to depict a very human experience; that it is hard to know what lies ahead, but we can always hold onto pieces of ourselves, even when they are hard to come to terms with. Which, to me, feels like an incredibly fitting reminder for the end of my senior year.
Packing up: ‘The House on Mango Street’ by Sandra Cisneros
I reread this book the summer before senior year began, and it touched me even more deeply on the reread. Cisneros writes about Esperanza Cordero, a young girl growing up in Chicago who faces marginalization both as a Mexican-American and as a woman.
My favorite part about the book is how Cisneros writes about memory. We experience Esperanza’s childhood through fragmented stories; the small pieces that stuck with her as she grew up and eventually moved away from Mango Street. It is such a true thing, that we remember our life through the parts that get stuck onto us, but I haven’t seen it represented as well as in this book.
“I carry my house on my back,” Cisneros writes. For Esperanza, the fragments are all a part of her. All the beautiful and terrible parts of her childhood have culminated into the person she is today. After I finished reading the book, I went back and thought about the fragments that make me up.
It’s often difficult to take a step back and consider each piece of ourselves, but as Cisneros reminds us, we carry it all on our backs. As I begin to shove my belongings into boxes for the last time, I’ll be sure to remember each piece, like this one.
Ellie Trinkle '26 (she/her) is the Senior Arts and Culture Editor.
She previously served as a News Editor and Staff Writer. She is a Film & Creative writing double major from Brooklyn who loves all things art. You can typically find her obsessively making Spotify playlists, wearing heaps of jewelry, or running frantically around campus.
