Life After Connecticut College

I’ve just completed my fellowship at Trinity College and am headed to Boston Town USA for an Architectural Landscape program at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design.

I was lucky enough to be able to stop in at the One-Year-Out reunion of the class of 2007. Mr. Reilly clubed out Tansil Theater with classy lighting, great eats, a signature blue camel cocktail and Prez. Big Hig even came through. It was a swanky affair where I ran into peeps like HF Teammates Whitney Longworth and Yeslan Hernandez, my shoe shopping wizard Ally Glassman, studio ally (soon to be Boston ally) Amber Fitch and a few other faces. The next morning I was cheering on ’08 grads as they took the stage for the quick two minutes it took to grab the paper from His Higness.

It was much less stressful then my own graduation a year earlier. No cap and gown, family, or packing to worry about. It was nice to enjoy the beautiful day and relive the true triumph of graduation through my friends.

2008 Conn. grads had the pleasure and honor of listening to Tavis Smiley, talk show host, author and a professional Black man. A protégé of Cornel West and a great thinker in his own right Smiley reminded the class of ‘08 that they did not enter into a prestigious institution to graduate as followers, but as leaders. He also told the grads that in order to lead they most love, and if they want to save (the world and the people in it) they must serve. Smiley asked the grads to search for their calling, not a job, a calling. The speech was delivered in an organic oration that defined the reality of the responsibilities that the Connecticut College diploma charges to its graduates.

All this gave me pause. Have I been fulfilling the charges of my diploma? Have I been honoring my unique and selective education that is available to a minuet number of people in the world? The short, excuse free, answer is no. The next question is how can I honor the charges of my diploma and what would that look like…? I need to marinate on that one.

In preparation for the intensive landscape architecture program I rented The Lawnmower Man (on VHS, cause I roll like that). Staring Pierce Brosnan TLM tries to do for virtually reality what War Games did for global thermal nuclear war. TLM fails miserably and I learned nothing about landscape Architecture, major disappointment.

love and lead/serve and save

Posted by Ross Jordan at 1:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Gee whiz, May is almost over. Hard to believe. This month has flown by without my noticing. But you know what they say - time flies by when you're having fun. I must have been having lots of fun...

May started out with a bang, as it usually does, ever since the introduction of Floralia into my life. Now, I consider it a nondenominational holiday, which I plan on celebrating for the rest of my life. I believe that I have the power to make it a holiday that is celebrated by many across the nation and, eventually, across the globe. In fact, I celebrated Floralia along with other fellow Camels in Cape Town during our semester abroad during which most of neighbors got involved, including our landlord & lady as well as our frequent cab driver. It was incredible, to say the least. This year was my first and perhaps last Floralia at CC as an alum. Nonetheless, I will carry along the tradition of waking up early and having a drink in the shower on the first Saturday of May wherever I go. I believe Floralia is well on its way to having national recognition. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Floralia

I was quite happy to have visited CC twice this month. Two weeks after Floralia, our class had our One Year Out reunion the night before graduation. Last year it was held in CroBar, which I was hoping would be the case for us since I wanted to relive my days as an undergrad when I would go to the bar, chat with Gail, and buy some cheap pitchers of beer. However, this year they decided to hold the event at Tansill Theater - a location I was a bit dubious of for its potential for a get-together. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was decorated quite nicely and that many of members of the class of 2007 attended. There were many delectable treats (including delicious, just-out-of-the-oven cookies), plenty of beverages (no red punch :( what?), and President Higdon, whom I was able to speak to and learn about the planned renovations to the campus as well as many other important factors concerning the college. Thus, the event was a total success! Post-reunion, I was able to relive my college days hanging out with some alums and pre-graduates. I even made the "trek" across route 32 to Abbey House and the River Ridge apartments that included a run-in with Campus Saftey without which my college experience would not have been complete. Finally, I attended the college's 90th Commencement and cheered on friends that were graduating. It was rather strange to be standing in the audience, remembering my graduation. I can't believe I've been out of school for a year already. I feel old...

Still, I'm young at heart - an attribute I've been able to share with my kickball team. I am in love with every member on the team. It seems that we all just want to relive the best days of our youth: playing outside, socializing, and a little competitive flip cup (a game I have missed much since graduating). Another thing I really love about being on the kickball team is meeting new people. Every time we have a game, all the teams on the Boston league go to the league bar An Tua Na (good luck pronouncing it) and socialize. I'm always meeting someone new from a different team. What about the games, you ask? Oh yes, the games. Our first game of the season was May 11th and we won 16-0. I'd like to quote the captain in saying, "We're good but we're not that good yet." The other team was just terrible. I was unable to attend the next game since I was at CC but our team won that one, too. Apparently, I'm on a really good team. It's just too bad I can't say I contribute to the team's greatness in skill but I'm working on it. I'll be sure to keep you updated on our games and my improvement.

Currently, I'm counting down the seconds until the weekend, which will be full of many activities taking place outside: Earthfest, car washing, walking across Boston, pool. I hope you, too, get outside and enjoy the beautiful weather during our long weekend. And don't forget the sunscreen! Cheers!

By the way, I think this article about blogging is worth a read:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/25/magazine/25internet-t.html

Posted by Marissa Velarde at 2:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It hasn't been too long since my last post, but already there's plenty of new developments to talk about (spoiler alert: most of these anecdotes involve cameos from one or more members of the New Kids on the Block).

Last week I played my last two Conn-affiliated concerts of the year, the first being the Student Composers' concert on Wednesday and the Connecticut College Orchestra concert on Thursday. Both were quite nice, and I'm pretty sure I can pin the success of each on the participation of Anthea Kreston and Jason Duckles, who are the College's violin and cello teachers, respectively. Anthea and Jason played many of the students' compositions on Wednesday night, and I had the pleasure and privilege of joining them on the performance of a piece for violin, viola, cello, and double bass. The following night, both of them were joined by Rieko Aizawa, who together comprise the Amelia Piano Trio, to perform Beethoven's Triple Concerto (contrary to what you might expect, a triple concerto is not, in fact, a mysterious and much-whispered-about high dive maneuver whose grace and difficulty is matched only by its deadliness). I can say without risk of overstatement that the performance was one of the most fulfilling I have ever played on double bass! At the same time, however, it will be nice to have fewer rehearsal for the next three months....

....Last weekend was my 5-year high school reunion (they don't really have reunions for GED recipients, so that's why Sam hasn't posted about his 5th). Though it took place on Saturday, I headed up a day early to have a pre-Reunion gathering at my friend Tom's house so that I could spend some quality time with the people I actually wanted to see. Most of the events of the evening are not appropriate for the blog, so I'll just sum things up with a few key phrases: school song, cell phone tower, 4am, complete lack of anyone female. The next day was equally exciting, but in a very different way (there were girls there). About 20 people from my class showed up, and it was great to reconnect with them and find out what everyone was up to. Surprisingly, one girl actually knows Mitch! I guess when you've got a head full of silky golden hair and dimples that you could plant a sapling in you become pretty well-known with the ladies (plus his personal website shortshorts.com helps get his name out there).

Since I was generally in the area of my parents' house, I headed up to beautiful Nashua, NH to spend Mother's Day at home (if you didn't know I was a thoughtful and adoring son, then educate yourself). We had a nice lunch and got caught up on each other's lives. Actually, all told it was a pretty straight-forward day, so to spice things up I'll add in a few twists. Mid-way through lunch, a gigantic mutated lizard, surely the product of some ill-fated zoological radiation experiment, crashed through the front wall of the restaurant, its eyes red and menacing, its teeth sharp as a knife's edge and dripping with a venom whose potency surely has no match, its claws and tail whipping and slashing throughout the dining room, neither knowing how many injured and dead they left in their wake nor caring for the souls lost. Fortunately, my dad had bought my mom for Mother's Day a military-grade tranquilizer rifle, which he quickly and expertly removed from its lovely pink polka-dotted wrapping paper and white bow, loaded with a quartet of maximum-strength sedatives, aimed carefully at the hellish beast's jugular, and fired with the skill of William Tell and the calm of a Buddhist monk. The monster shrieked in protest, trying in vain to scratch at its neck to brush away the foreign objects filling its veins with sleep-inducing serum, but within a matter of seconds it began to sway and swagger, a moment later finally collapsing in a heap of blood-soaked scales. Those still alive in the restaurant fell silent, unable to sort their myriad conflicting emotions into any sensible order, unsure what to feel first. We stared and stuttered, some of us trying futilely to put the experience of the past few minutes into words. Failing, we wordlessly gathered what belongings had not been turned into rubble and splinters and made our way back to our cars and homes. Our skin and our spirits were both scarred, but we knew that time was the only balm for our still-stinging wounds. We turned, then, to our one source of solace: that ever-dwindling, beautifully blurred, blessedly imperfect human memory that promised to day by month by year by decade to lose hold of more and more horrific details of the nightmare that we had just lived.

That's about all for me! I'll check back in again with stories from the One Year Reunion and Commencement!

Posted by Chris Reilly at 1:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I must tell my crazy story of the year. Aside from all the other fun things I’ve been up to, I went out last night in center city Philly. I went to a REALLY trendy restaurant and bar called The Continental. Personally speaking, I find the name to be a bit lame, but the place is pretty nice nonetheless. I’m there for no more than half an hour and Luke Wilson shows up. For those of you who don’t know, he’s Owen Wilson’s brother and can be seen in movies such as Old School and Legally Blonde. Sorry ladies, he’s not that hot in person and on top of that he’s a real jerk. Being the ballsy idiot that I am and not really caring too much about his celebritiness, I went up to say hey to the disgruntled looking comedian. Mr. Wilson (to be patronizing) was sitting on the edge of a couch about 5 feet away from my going-out clan. I asked him if he’s Luke Wilson and he said no, of course. So I asked him, knowing it was him, if I could shake his hand anyway. I then told him I was about to leave and I just wanted to say hey…so he told me that he was actually Luke Wilson. Thanks, Luke. I was then cutoff by some girl who was a huge fan of Luke Wilson, as she told me. No problem, I’m not. After spacing out and awkwardly standing there for a second, Mr. Wilson asked me if I was going to keep standing there or if I was going to give him some f-ing space. No, he was not polite enough to say f-ing, apparently, as I found out, he really enjoys dropping the f-bomb. So I told him I understand I’m not a girl, it’s cool. I guess I struck a nerve, because he dared me to say something f-ing smart again and told me he’ll knock my f-ing head off. WHOA THERE LUKE. I didn’t know those were fightin’ words, but I guess I don’t know the celebrity lingo.

I was about to walk out the door until I realized that I left my coat back at my table. Pretty disappointed and shocked that this guy had been so rude after someone went up to say “hey,” I went back to get my coat. I certainly understand that he probably gets this crap from people all the time—it must be obnoxious and exhausting! But, there are nicer ways to avoid being bothered by people in a Philly bar (if you'd like some suggestions just ask, I'm from the midwest). Anyway, I went up to him again and told him I just wanted to ask him a question. Without hesitation he told me I was starting to get really f-ing annoying. Starting? I thought I was annoying the first time I went up to talk to him. Of course, I told him I just wanted to ask a question, but he just wanted me to get the f#$% away. His bodyguard, who was probably enjoying this little exchange, told me he had had a long day. Really? Luke Wilson had a long day. I wasn’t aware that having a long day gave you license to take a verbal dump on everyone that talked to you. I mean, you are a celebrity. You don’t think people are going to innocently come up to and express their fanhood? I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with how long his day was and everything to with how big his ego is. I certainly enjoy his silly Frat Pack movies, but there is no excuse for treating people like that (says the bioethicist-in-training). He could have at least given me some credit for having the balls to talk to him, while most people at the bar were ignoring him.

Anyway, I just find it extremely intriguing that someone whose entire existence relies on his fans was such an unrelenting jerk to me AND everyone else at the bar. But, if anyone who reads my blog can offer some perspective on this unfortunate situation, please do. For now, I’d recommend a boycott of his movies until he starts being more polite and responsible in public. There are plenty of people that love his movies and look up to him in some way or another--God forbid. Don’t disappoint your fans Luke! I could always just go to Bryn Mawr, where he’s currently filming a movie, and say, “Hey Luke, I just wanted to ask you a question!”

Posted by Sam Garner at 1:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Howdy gang! I haven't blogged in a while, so there's plenty to gab about (I just got through re-re-reading all my dog-eared copies of the entire series of The Babysitters' Club, so I'm feeling pretty talkative today).

On Monday morning I actually got out of bed with more than a half hour until I had to leave for work (very unusual), so I decided to check out some TV while eating breakfast. I flipped on the tube, saw that it was tuned to VH1, read in the lower left corner that the video that was about to start was "Beat It" by Fallout Boy featuring John Mayer, and immediately turned off the television and ate in silence. I've been developing a new theory that Monday morning sets the tone for the entire week ahead, so I wasn't about to risk screwing myself over for five days just for a little distraction while noshing on an eggwhite omelet (some people think I'm an egg racist for only eating the whites, but really I'm just trying to avoid the cholesterol)....

....On Sunday I accompanied world-renowned roommate and personal dimple coach Mitch "Smile for a While" Herz on a stroll a few blocks away from our bach pad to check out a potential new apartment (we're looking to move because our other roommate Terry is really starting to let himself go hygiene-wise, and I can barely breathe anywhere near the much-soiled futon mattress that he sleeps on in the living room). There were some pros and cons about this place, but way on the top of the pro list is that it includes a BIGGITY-BUMPIN' brand new porch, to which we would have exclusive access (I just had a vision of Mitch and me opening our own private members-only outdoor tanning salon/massage parlor). After a lot of thought and deliberation, Mitch and I had a pow-wow during lunch, and we decided that we're moving! It'll be a big change for us; our current building is the first place in New London that either of us has lived, plus we won't be right upstairs from Laura Brown anymore! Both of those were big considerations, but I think we've made the right choice (I might change my tune if in a few weeks I discover an ill-hidden rotting corpse in our new attic's storage space that I subsequently become responsible for disposing of without alerting the authorities or contracting a life-threatening strain of cooties; I would hate to have to go through that whole process again!). If anyone out there has any decoration tips, free furniture, or a desire to get absolutely buckwild on a badass private deck, just let me know.

The previous day was equally exciting, as it was Floralia here at Conn. Though I had played at the much-regaled day-long on-campus puke-tinged celebration of booze, music, and the human body three times before, this was the first time I was on the bill as a professional, as opposed to with MOBROC. I'm pleased to report that Welcome to Florida rocked the crowd's socks off (though most people were already just wearing flip-flops, so it wasn't that hard, really). We finished up at about 2:30 in the afternoon, so in theory there was still plenty of time left to party up, but in reality all of the deans and President Higdon were there, so I felt way too uncomfortable to stick around and drink. It worked out fine, however, because I ended up having a much-needed relaxing night downtown. Hopefully Conn will have WTF back again next year!

The night prior (I just realized I'm recounting my recent activities in reverse; I feel like a real-life, less handsome Guy Pearce!), I hung out in lovely New London with an assortment of Conn and non-Conn friends, including Welcome to Florida drummer JZ "Marches to the Beat of His Own Drummer, Which Is Himself" MacMartin, who was in town a night early for the Floralia show the next day. We had a pretty rippin' time, culminating in the last few songs of a rocking-as-always performance by Incognito Sofa Love at Oasis. It was nice to go out and have a fun, music-related night on the town since I figured I wouldn't be able to participate in the full Floralia festivities.

The night before that (hey, this format is working, so why bother changing it now?), I teamed up with fellow '07er-turned-Conn staffer Kyle Olson as well as Richard Schenk, musical director for the Dance Department, for a jazz trio gig in Cro for the first half of Fishbowl. For those of you who don't know, Fishbowl is an annual event where seniors get together for a dance late in the spring term at which they gradually get more and more naked. When the supply of, well, let's just say "refreshments" runs out, everyone doffs the reminder of their wardrobe and streaks down to Castle Court to bang the 10' gong located therein. Since I'm now an employee of the College, I was worried about having to play in front of students wearing little or no clothing because it would clearly jeopardize the level of professionalism that I've worked hard all year to build for myself (now that I think about it, this was actually the first time I've ever gotten nervous during a public performance and consequently tried to imagine the audience not in their underwear). Fortunately, we got to stop playing at around 12:15, so the vast majority of people in attendance still had plenty of clothing on. Kyle and I were so leery of accidentally viewing some undergraduate unmentionables that after the gig we stripped our own clothes off and streaked around campus just to blow off some steam (type "Kyle and Reilly's nude adventure" into Google if you don't believe me).

Well I could keep going back in time, but I think that's enough info from my life for one day. There are about million things coming up in the next few weeks, however, so be sure to check back in for more updates. Now get outside and enjoy this spring weather! Toodles, y'all!

Posted by Chris Reilly at 3:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Over the weekend I exhibited at Broad Street Gallery in Hartford. CT. I showed alongside Mary Catherine McBrian, a talented painter, who will be earning her masters in French through Middlebury’s abroad program this coming year. She is the bomb! Folks from all my different circles in Hartford came through to the opening.

I had a chance to reconnect with folks from Hygienic Art Galleries, located in downtown New London on Bank Street (www.hygienic.org). I also saw people from Hartford Friends Meeting and Conn. Coll. represented with Victoria Mann and Andrew Carten from ‘08. Fellow co-workers from Real Art Ways (www.realartways.org) also showed their support. So it was all an exciting time. The after party continued at Hartford’s three story bar and eatery City Steam, where we enjoyed the brewed-in-house selection of beers and dug into the salmon special. The night continued with Saeed Ola from Swarthmore ‘07 and my brother Windsor Jordan, also Swat-Team ’07, with saki at Koji and vodka & tonics at The Russell with other young Black professionals.

The whole night reminded me that openings are social events. They provide a time and place to celebrate, to meet new people, and have simulating conversations about art or, at least pretend to. Art has a way of invigorating life. Shaking off the dust of life, its normalcy and routine and shedding light on the feelings and wonder that really make up good experiences (Dali and Picasso both have similar quotes, I’m trying to tag myself for future famousness).

I’m also in the middle of hunting down new jobs in arts administration and gallery management. This is important because I need to eat and live under a roof next month and a new job is going to determine how much I eat and where that roof is going to be.

Being out of school is like evolution. The priorities are different, the expectations have changed and you must adapt and bend to the situation. A fish out of water either dies or learns how to breathe air and walk...quickly. Where the hell is my De Lorean! And spin up that FTL drive!

Posted by Ross Jordan at 1:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)