Category Archives: On the Road

Gazing towards ‘The Bachelor’ at SECAC

This week in Savannah, Georgia, SCAD has been host to the Southeastern College Art Conference.

SECAC is a non-profit organization that is all about spreading the visual arts love across the land. Members include anyone interested in promoting the visual arts and range from university faculty and students, museums, scholars and of course, artists.

I’m presenting at one of the sessions for their annual conference tomorrow. I get to talk about The Bachelor. Yes, that one.

So, at these academic conference things, a lot goes on. People present on their work ranging from art history during WWII to the ways new media influences the form. There are lectures, exhibitions and lots of networking. I’ve never seen so many art historians in one place. It’s kind of cool. And strange, even for an art school student. People are making jokes about post-structuralism. You had to be there.

The panel I’m sitting on is discussing the male gaze as it relates to E. Ann Kaplan’s essay about the way female subjects are viewed as objects in cinema. The essay, published about 30 years ago, took from Freud, Lacan and the fabulous Laura Mulvey to craft a new way of dealing with the way we view women in visual media and the impacts of the patriarchal system in which the media was developed. It can get pretty intense. I sometimes feel like I’m over my head. The past few days, tightening up my presentation, I’ve had a lot of reason to believe that is actually the case. But then, how often do you get the chance to talk about the societal ramifications of this:


Season 11, Bachelor Brad Womack (l) discusses his options with host Chris Harrison. Image via ABC.

Looks innocent enough, right? I’m arguing in my paper that even though The Bachelor appears like a female-driven show, it is actually quite patriarchal in its concept and execution. That not only do female viewers get sucked into the male gaze, one that objectifies both the viewer and object, but that the show perpetuates the stereotypical roles women have played since Kaplan first published her essay several decades ago.

I like exploring these kinds of things. Even though all this theory can drive a person nuts, it really does change the way you see the world. This is my first major academic conference and I’ve heard that sometimes, people can get a bit ornery. Academics like to be right. I come in peace, folks. Peace and theory. Should be fun.

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It takes something

Fontaine-de-Vaucluse, Provence, France

I was catching up on news today — because I have a printmaking project due tomorrow, so of course, I was reading back articles in the NY Times.

My stomach turned a bit when I read this piece on Spanish citizens who are beginning a quest to find out what happened to their newborn children. For decades during the Franco regime and afterwards, countless babies were “disappeared” from hospitals, evidently with the collusion of doctors and nuns. They were often sold in trafficking schemes while the parents were told the child died in a neighboring hospital after suffering some unnamed problem.

Then I clicked on this piece, on Israeli women who have been sneaking Palestinian women across the border and onto the beach. They’re doing it in protest and they’re doing it in fellowship. Many of the Palestinian women had never seen the ocean before. All of them risk criminal prosecution. They splashed in the water and dined together for lunch in Tel Aviv. What is it about seeing grown-ups behave like children that can make everything seem alright?

Fontaine-de-Vaucluse, Provence, France

Being in France this past month — specifically in Lacoste — has been a real gift. In some ways, I’ve checked out from a lot of life. In other ways I’ve been incredibly plugged in. It’s been fascinating to discover what I can do without and what parts of myself I take everywhere. I suppose it will be just as interesting to find out what I take with me when it’s time to go, and what was just temporary. But I don’t really want to think about that yet.

These past few weeks I’ve been trying on the hat of a visual artist. A printmaker and photographer to be exact. It’s coming along. I’ve had a lot of help from my friends and professors. Thinking about narrative in a visual form has been challenging to me. It has forced me to process ideas in different ways. At first it was like trying to push a triangle through a circle. Now it’s like realizing I can change the shape of the circle but the triangle is there for a reason. Or so I’m learning.

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First dinner

After I got into Marignane, which is right next to the Marseille airport, I had a good, long nap then got dinner at a neighboring hotel. There was a lot to choose from, but sometimes le steak frites is all you need. I watched people and ate. I watched more people and drank wine.

One of the servers asked where I was from when I went to pay. He thought I was Canadian. I have found that people rarely take me for an American. Not sure what to make of that. When I told him I lived in Atlanta, he said “Ah, 0o-sherr, oo-sherr!”

This was the first time since I’d arrived that I was completely at a loss for what was being spoken to me. Je ne comprend pas, I said smiling. Again, “Oo-sherr, oo-sherr.” I stared at him blankly trying to place this word that sounded so familiar and yet totally foreign.

And then: “Le chanteur! Oo-sherr.” Aha! USHER! Got it.

“Oui, oui, I said, Usher, il vient d’Atlanta.” I asked him if he liked Usher’s music.

“Non,” he said flatly. Not at all. Ha.

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Hola Madrid

I passed through Madrid this morning (really, really early this morning) en route to France. The sun rose on my side of the plane, and man, there is something about the color of the Mediterranean sky. I wish I could have captured the candy apple red for you as the early hints of light hovered over the water. It really knocked me out. Alas, someone’s sleeping head was in the way. My punishment for picking the aisle over the window seat.

Since I’m in France this summer for a quarter at SCAD, I thought it was fitting to take some photos of the Madrid airport — it is so beautifully designed. Here are a few shots of my morning en Europe!


This is a shot of the view outside my hotel window near Marseille. It was about 9 p.m. when I took this. Dinner time! I’ll rendez-vous with everyone from SCAD tomorrow afternoon, then off to Lacoste!

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Pause and assess

If you wake up on a Monday morning and this is the first thing you think about, your vacay was too short.

I’m not typically a fruity-tutty drinker, but you know, when in Rome. Several Savannah restaurants in Historic Downtown specialize in flashy drinks.

We stayed at the Thunderbird Inn because it was convenient, retro and cheap, y’all. They have a vintage décor and they are very nice.

You know, Savannah is really beautiful — at least what we saw in the touristy part of Downtown. The lady who checked us in asked where we were from. Atlanta, I said. “Oh,” she said nodding, “It’s much prettier here.” Nice.

There are parks everywhere.

Just strollin’.

The Spanish moss is my new favorite tree. They’re so moody and carefree, in an old-world kind of way. I miss that about so much of the US that’s built up and all fancy and new. The trees are all babies and are constantly pruned for billboard visibility or completely trashed to make room for condos that developers can’t fill (that’s you Midtown Atlanta).

Steep stairs take you down to the river, or up to the rest of Downtown. Cobblestone streets remind me of France (man, I can’t wait). I worked all day Sunday from 9 a.m. until about 11 p.m. It was good, fulfilling work and I love having a mission. But with all this rain today, I am dreaming of sunny Savannah. Take me back!

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Savannah spell

Sometimes you have to get away. Darryl and I took a little drive to Savannah this week to see what we could see. I thought today I’d just share some of our culinary adventures.

1) Every meal is better with beer. First time I’ve had Stella in a real Stella glass. I felt like I was in one of those movie previews.

2) Crawfish, Old Bay seasoning and butter. What else need be said?

3) Fried [fill in the blank]. I’ll take it! Oysters and scallops, fresh from the neighboring sea.

4) We stopped at Leopold’s for a couple of double scoops. Guinness Stout ice cream. Oh yeah.

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Un rêve français

Sharing is caring, even between strangers. Right? I hope my fellow SCADdie Hayliebird won’t mind me borrowing this gorgeous photo of Lacoste. This summer, I’ll be spending a summer quarter in the gorgeous Provençal village as part of my program at SCAD.

Let me just say that again because I can hardly believe it myself: I AM GOING TO LIVE IN FRANCE FOR 2 1/2 MONTHS.

Hayliebird does a nice job of summing up the situation, but some things have changed since she posted about her 2007 trip. What was once the former domicile of the Marquis de Sade (yes, that one) and was once an art school owned by Monsieur Pierre Cardin, is now a SCAD campus. That’s right, open for business summer, spring and fall. Even before I applied to SCAD I had my eye on this program. I’ve been talking about living in France for what seems like ages, and although this is hardly a massive relocation, it’s a big enough commitment for me to feel like this is a dream come true. Well, it’s about to be, anyway.

Faculty from Savannah and Atlanta travel to Lacoste as well, so it’s truly a SCAD experience (the same is true for the newly opened Hong Kong campus…next year, maybe!). The course selection is pretty awesome as the classes are tailored to take advantage of the new environment. I see travel writing, photography and printmaking in my future.

I’m very interested in experiencing the difference between the hustle of Paris and this small town. Even though it will be tourist season, this is bound to be a far cry from the City of Lights. And Lacoste is only an hour away from Marseille. That has nothing to do with anything really, but I thought you should know.

I just registered for an advanced class at the Alliance Française d’Atlanta — you can major in French and even bump up against fluency, but if you don’t use it, it goes au revoir. I’m so excited to have a chance to put this skill to good use. I’m gearing up, listening to a bunch of French radio and reading les actualités so I can stay in the know.

Have you been to the South of France? Wanna come visit?

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‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship’

This is Dylan. Dylan is super cool. I met him through this fabulous lady.

Dylan is the current Musical Director at SCAD Atlanta Radio (possibly the coolest radio station in the region).

He’s really funny. He also does an incredible impression of Michael McDonald. You should ask him sometime.

We got to hang out in Athens.

We’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming days.

Starting in the spring, Dylan will be General Manager for the radio station and I’ll be his student media counterpart over at The Connector and SCAN Magazine — guess who’s the incoming Editor-in-Chief?! Aaaaahhhhh! Supa pumped, as Jodi would say.

Do you see this? This is what it’s like hanging out at SCAD. You know we must have looked really crazy, because I was obviously holding a third camera.

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Give me a sign


I have a thing for signs. I like the ones that tell you what to do. You can tell a lot about a place by the signs they put up. And I always wonder what happened before the sign was designed, printed and posted to make someone in an office decide that newcomers needed instructions.

I took these photos in Athens. As you can see, there are different types of signs. The fire hydrant just makes me happy. Doesn’t it look like a happy fire hydrant? It’s a sign, in a way. It says “stay the hell away” and “here I am if you need me” all at once.

Buildings also make for interesting sign sessions. The Farmers Exchange Lofts in Downtown Athens is a historical building. Apparently it’s 100 years old and boasts a lot of brick. The “Farmer’s” sign fading across the front façade gives it an authentic quality. Historical buildings make me feel safer. I know, it’s weird, but there’s something very comforting about a bunch of architectural reminders that people came before you — that you’re not working it all out from scratch.

Then there are the signs. The ones that make you wonder how you can possibly spend so much time not looking up. That’s when you find the answers to questions you didn’t know you had. Those are some instructions you’re gonna want to follow.

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You might be from California . . .

. . . if you wake up in the morning and the first thing on your mind is In-N-Out Burger.

As if having this memory around breakfast time wasn’t painful enough, I thought, eh, why not take this to the finish line?

In-N-Out is not solely a California thing but it might as well be. Distributed throughout the West  Coast and a little inland, there’s one thing you can say to describe this burger chain — gotta have it.
Repeat after me: “The drive-thru is my friend.”

Simple never sounded so good. One of the things people love about In-N-Out is the so-called secret menu that essentially lets you tailor your gluttondom just the way you like it.

Everything is made to order, so that lunch line can get long. Out comes some darling little In-N-Out employee with their signature apron held together with a giant safety pin. I call them Burger Elves. I tried to get a photo of the big safety pin (it’s that cute), but let’s just say that conversation can be a little awkward. When you order in the drive-thru, you are asked if you’ll be eating in the car. Por favor.

A place mat, thankyouverymuch. Just look at all those locations — please come to Atlanta!

That’s a double-double Animal style — a mustard-cooked beef patty with secret sauce, pickles and grilled onions. You can also order the fries Animal style, but really, sometimes I’ve just got exercise some restraint. I mean, this was my second visit of the week. Lay off me, it had been two years since my last one.

And now, for that inviting cup of Greek yogurt.

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