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The Corbett Building serves as a location for Kinesiology students and faculty alike. The rooms and offices seem to be moving through time, filled in and out with students in between what seem to be long classes, lectures, and labs. However, despite the alleged feeling of business, the building feels almost hollow. The best way to describe it is a fulfilled emptiness. There is an eerie sense of pressure in the atmosphere and air, like focused energy with nowhere to go. The heating and cooling system is loud; it runs on a 10-minute cycle of intense but low humming. The system doesn’t do much for the building, as it feels very cold. Regardless of the temperature, there is a warm and inviting aura that seems to sit in the ceiling. Like if you look up you will feel hopeful about what you find in the long corridors that house classrooms and students. There are small pockets of warmth that can be found near the pool and in the large windows that sit around the stairs. There is a heavy aroma of plastic and artificial lemon that feels like it was placed there on purpose to wake someone up, but ultimately puts them to sleep. Early morning classes must be a challenge here. The layout of the building is as paradoxical as the scent that flows through the building. There are long hallways that challenge your depth perception as you move throughout the building. The floors reflect the large fluorescent lighting that begs you to purchase a pair of sufficient blue light glasses and a fresh bottle of Excedrin. Close to the entrance of the building, there is an area for students and faculty alike to gather before or after class, but the way that the seating is placed makes the space feel isolated in nature. The color scheme, dark browns and greys with out-of-place blues, reds and greens, creates a professional environment that is not unique to other campus spaces. While Corbett feels full, there is an indescribable feeling of hollowness that serves as a reminder of how the space is fleeting from the forefront of public memory.