The building is tall and warm. It’s almost like a comforting friend, and why not? After all, it is literally called Arnhold.

While the sixth floor is home to the jazz students and the ninth is a hotspot for the photography buffs, the third floor is — or rather, was — the quintessential haven for the rest of us. Students congregated here around the computers, but never flocked. The lab was crowded during finals, but never utter chaos. Instead, there was a mutual agreement among students to work hard and in unison like bees in a beehive.

The walls were white, but the lights weren’t too bright so it didn’t feel like one was in an insane asylum. Time wasn’t measured by minutes or seconds, but by the calming repetition of the printers printing pages upon pages of our deepest thoughts. Even if the population in the room was sparse one did not feel alone, any possibility of the eerie feeling of solitude combated by the constant peripheral motion and presence of the colorful screensavers. Texting was rampant, animated conversations occasional, and eating tolerated, especially if it was from the New School cafeteria or Murray’s Bagels.

The dynamic between the students was one of acceptance. A girl slept comfortably, passed out on her gray hoodie while two blue wires waterfalled out of her ears. Another student watched “Family Guy” without being questioned. A Parsons student typed away, working towards ten pages on the ethics of fashion. One always wondered, what could someone be doing on both a desktop and a laptop simultaneously? There always seemed to be a healthy balance of individuals with and without headphones. A girl would sip vigorously through her straw and stare intently at the screen. One might have expected her to be enraptured in her school work while sipping on that energizing smoothie, when in fact she was enjoying the humor of Tina Fey and company in “30 Rock.” Another student had Google Maps pulled up. Someone had searched “Tucson” and after a few minutes was looking through different, flashy, rock climbing shoes. The students and users of resources were all connected but still distant.