Arts Blog by Sabra Comins
June 2026 – The Value of a Pause
The Campus Ramble always surprises me. I race to OSU on my bike filled with looping thoughts of deadlines, a loved one’s pending surgery, and backyard weeds aspiring to reach the sun. Upon arrival, my time-lapsed morning is sud…den…ly paused.
Pause.
Twice a year, photographer Cub Kahn and writer Jill Sisson lead a themed walk to visit some lesser-known pockets on campus, and then host a follow-up gathering to share reflections and images. Open to everyone, the Campus Ramble, sponsored by OSU’s Spring Creek Project, invites participants to make connections with each other and place.
Feeling disoriented on pause, I inch along like a caterpillar among strangers. Someone reads a quote drawn from Jill’s magic bag while we stand around a circular patch of grass surrounded by a ring of pavers. The walk’s theme is circles. A metal totem-like sculpture stands to the south. We quietly observe the space, some of us being mindful to capture circles in our photos, writing, and sketches.
At a later stop, I lie along a log and close my eyes absorbing the sound of lesser goldfinches, the touch of a breeze across my face, and the scent of warming Douglas-fir trees. Feeling my shoulders settle against the bark, I resist the urge to sit up and document. I’ll need something to share at the follow-up meeting, I tell myself, an image or a couple of sentences to give meaning to the moment.
When it’s my turn to draw from the magic bag, I read from Margaret J. Wheatley, “Circles create soothing space.” The ensuing silence buoys us into exploration. I take more pictures than I normally do despite concerns that the overuse of cameras adds to feelings of isolation.
In a time when people are struggling to connect, I love coming together for a Campus Ramble. We witness the data-inspired sculpture titled Willamette Streamflow, a conifer grown from a seed that flew in the Apollo 14 moon landing mission, the curving architecture at the Women’s Building, and a peace tree grown from a seed of a persimmon tree that survived the atomic bombing in Hiroshima.
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The feeling of togetherness that easily forms during the Ramble reminds me of an African philosophy I started reading about called ubuntu. Best represented by an African Bantu proverb, ubuntu is a way of being based on the concept that a person is a person through other persons.
Ubuntu emphasizes interactions with other people and a global perspective rather than individual interests. It exists when people unite for a common good, such as offering relief to those who are in need after a natural disaster. I wonder how our world would shift if we embraced this philosophy. I am because we are.
Returning to the Campus Ramble sites alone feels different. I am self-conscious of veering off path and crunching over rhododendron leaves next to classroom windows. I am not compelled to lie down (as I did before) to see patterns of interlocking limbs and leaves against the blue sky. I miss my Ramble team and wonder if any of them might be exploring on their own.
After glancing around to see who might be within sight, I Iie down again along my Ramble log. I close my eyes and feel freckles surfacing on my face. Listening for bumblebees and feeling the log’s support beneath me, my senses intertwine with this speck of a forest in an otherwise urban landscape. Welcoming the pause this time, I weave it into my being, even as its value slips in and out of view like the swaying tree tops above me.
Walking home I am surprised at the ease in my steps. I expect things of value to carry weight, but this pause has lightened my load by peeling back my urgency to produce and inviting my racing mind to rest. And when I again doubt the value of being still in our overly productive culture, I can borrow from ubuntu and remind myself that I ramble because we ramble.
In my studio this month, I’m adopting a community-oriented writing practice shared by Susan Piver. The steps sound simple – meditate, journal, designate time, and write – but the practice needs to be done in community. This will challenge my belief that writing is a solitary act, which is perhaps just what I need to invite more ubuntu into my life.
Happy being!
Sabra
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Sabra Comins weaves her natural science background, curiosity of human behavior, and thoughtfulness toward all beings in her writing and art. She has been involved with The Arts Center since moving to Corvallis in 2018. Sabra completed TAC’s Artist Accelerator Program in 2020, and currently leads Unlocking Art activities and serves on the Exhibition Committee. When Sabra is not outside or in her studio, she is likely to be sending letters in handmade envelopes.