Becoming The Student, #16: Gina TECHNICOLOR Ceylan

Gina Ceylan is an incredible person. Every time I’m with her, I’m amazed at her intelligence, engagement, and desire for true connection and meaning. I knew I had to include her in my Becoming The Student project.

TechnicolorGirlGina TECHNICOLOR Ceylan, Gouache and Colored Pencil on Paper mounted on Panel. 20 inches in diameter. 2014.

Click the image to see this piece larger.

~

Gina has a genetic condition which has caused her eyesight to degrade over time, and she is – essentially – blind. In spite of this she has developed an extremely acute vision of where education, science, and societal conditions are and where they could be. She’s a passionate student and teacher (she holds a PhD in Science Education). She’s a lover of music and public conversation. She loves to foment deep thought in herself and others.

Part of her experience of losing her sight has meant that her brain is rewiring, taking into account the lack of external visual stimulus and creating manifestations of color and form in Gina’s mind’s eye. Because of these inner experiences, she has taken to talking about her Technicolor experience in grand terms. In some of our past discussions, the story of the blind men and the elephant has taken center stage in the Technicolor arena. I even created a psychedelic elephant for her Facebook page, as seen below:

1795397_10103821001738749_391203280_o

There is so much I could write about Gina, but I’ll let a few of her own thoughts speak for themselves (with a few key parts emphasized by me).

“I don’t like this phrase “time management” though; it doesn’t sit well. We don’t manage time; we strive for dynamic thought-task coherence through time. Let’s go with thought-task conduction. That’s better, closer to what’s really happening when we work towards our little purposes. Got to love it when the little Technicolor light bulb goes off. Understanding AND potential improved use of the scatter-mind. Score.”

“Some of us dance a little closer to chaos.”

-from Thought Patterns & Thought-task Conduction – December 17, 2013

“Ignorance isn’t something so much as it is really the lack of something [relative awareness maybe], the way darkness is the absence of light. But it behaves like a something, a disgusting kind of living evil something, because we bring it to life. Here’s the worst part: it’s not intentional. Ignorance doesn’t mean to destroy anything anymore than a wisteria vine or kudzu intends to cover the landscape and choke out all other life. The vines are often planted with good intention, and with no knowledge of how they will take root and thrive at the expense of everything.

Life is a collection of countless choices. Our reality emerges through these choices, but there’s too many of them, so our relative subconscious takes care of most of it, and we let society decide so many others. And ignorance emerges, without intention, and without anyone noticing, spreading over everything, choking the life out. Hell is real, you know; it’s a place in our minds and we bring it to life and make it real in our world. The road to hell is paved with ignorance. I think we’re getting there.

I know only myself [pretty big accomplishment]; I’m a fool’s fool. I know nothing else. Which is to say I have a great many well-founded, poorly articulated suspicions that shed just enough light for me to see my ignorance. At least I’m a happy fool, and not in the false bliss of ignorance but in my knowledge of it, and in my pleasure in tearing it up by its roots, possibly burning it just for good measure. It’s a ridiculous effort, the task is too big, but it’s fun.”

-from Ignorance, Intentionality & The Road to Hell – December 8, 2013

Girl at gym: “I want to go to med school and be a pediatrician, but…”
Me: “Well, why not go for it?”
Girl: “I’m scared… scared I’m not smart enough”
Me: “That’s crap! Someone lied to you about the nature of intelligence!”

“What kind of education system teaches people to be afraid of learning to be what they want!? [To hell with] a system that instills this kind of fear in people! We ought to be smarter than that.”

-from a Facebook Rant, April 15, 2014

“Think of The Future possible pathways, sprawled out in front of us in all their dendritic splendor… Yes, for all the same reasons. One choice at a time, travelers.”

-a Facebook Status, December 31, 2013

~

Keep dancing close to that chaos, Gina. Thank you for grabbing some of us off the sidelines and getting us to dance, too.

To learn more about her, read this article about her life and work. It’s a fantastic read.

Becoming The Student, #15: Mar Cus

One of the most significant relationships of my adult life has been with a former student and current colleague, Marcus Miers. Right now he’s finishing up his MFA at The University of Wisconsin at Madison, but he undertook his BFA at The University of Missouri. Marcus was among the most interesting, confusing, and outstanding students I’ve had at Mizzou. He is, so far, the only student I’ve had as an undergraduate who came back to work in the classroom with me as an assistant in the very classes in which he distinguished himself.

The semester where he worked with me as an assistant to my Color Drawing courses remains a highlight of my teaching experience. As fun as that was, however, his participation in Color Drawing as a student was more transformative to me. He consistently challenged the premise of each project. He pushed me to go beyond my standard explanations. He devoted significant time and intellectual effort to grasp as much as possible in the classroom.

At one point during his second tour of duty in Color Drawing (this time in Intermediate Color Drawing), Marcus turned away from the assignment I gave. We had been working from the model for weeks, and his work was large, energetic, and chromatically intense. Yet one day, out of the blue, he simply set up his easel outside the parachute I’d hung as a barrier to block general views of the model. I had learned to trust him, though I found it somewhat cheeky of him to ignore just about every aspect of the project I’d just assigned. I sat back and watched as the beginnings of what would – eventually – become the foundation of his MFA work began to gestate right before me.

Forgoing the figure, Marcus turned instead to direct perceptual effects. He would not turn back. Light and color, intensely dense and saturated, were the basis of his rigorous investigations. The work (here’s an example) became smaller and, oddly, more spectral. It hovered over the counter-intuitive field of non-focus that forms the basis of all representation. He was seeing through depiction toward an intensity of hue and luminosity that is basically felt rather than taught. It makes perfect sense that he would soon become passionate about Josef Albers (and in particular Albers’ notion of halation). I learned more through witnessing that single aesthetic and educational maneuver than I had in my previous years of teaching combined.

~

MarCusPortraitMar Cus (High Waters and Duct Tape)

Charcoal and Pastel on Paper, 30 by 20 inches. 2014.

~

Below I’m posting three contemplations on Marcus that I made prior to the portrait above. They were created after a photo I took of Marcus at the Milwaukee Art Museum last year.

2014-04-04 19.30.15

The Sublimity of the Duct Tape Painter (Portrait of Marcus Miers with Tears)

Dimensions variable, 2014. Created in Sketchbook Pro and Artrage with alterations in Afterlight. April, 2014.

 

2014-04-04 22.22.42The Apotheosis of Mar Cus (Portrait of Marcus Miers with a Rocket)

Dimensions variable, 2014. Created in Sketchbook Pro and Artrage with alterations in Afterlight. April, 2014.

1977309_10104000276785119_1550973951_nThe Artist is Absent (Marcus Missing From the Milwaukee Art Museum)

Digital painting, Dimensions variable. Created in Sketchbook Pro and Artrage with alterations in Afterlight. April, 2014.

I am so thankful that Marcus has participated in my life over the years. We have shown work together (more than once). We have traveled together. Next year I will curate an exhibition of his work at Imago Gallery and Cultural Center in Columbia, MO. Knowing Marcus (and his brother Sam) has been so rewarding, so educational, so important. I’m just grateful to get to celebrate him and share the images above with everyone.

On top of it all, it’s his birthday today. So happy birthday, sir. Thank you for your friendship and encouragement.

~

To close, here’s a little throwback:

DSC06563Marcus working on one of the last figure drawings he made in Color Drawing. October, 2010.

~

Becoming The Student, #14: JJ

I’ve been teaching at The University of Missouri for seven years. In that time I’ve served on many graduate thesis committees and developed a number of great, long-lasting relationships with grads. But it wasn’t until Jane Jun arrived three years ago that I was a “Main Advisor” or “Head of Committee”. The opportunity to work closely with Jane for those years was a huge benefit to me. As Jane progressed through the program she made huge changes in her work and found ways to grow that were both necessary and surprising. She rose to meet difficult challenges when she really needed to. Her thesis work – which dealt with female Asian identity, diaspora/immigration, stereotypes, societal (and personal) expectations, as well as the ways portraiture and self-portraiture have been transformed in recent years – was illuminating and meaningful. Her thesis writing was excellent and was important for me, as the father of an adopted daughter from China, to spend time thinking and dialoguing about on so many levels. It was a privilege to be up close and see all of her work come together.

enchanter-whatgradclassisJJ and me at Shakespeare’s way back in her first year of grad school.

Now JJ is heading back to South Korea to begin her post-grad school life. I have to admit that the annual exodus of grads is hard for me. So much mental and emotional energy goes into working with my students, so much hope and desire for them to do well. Add to that my sentimental nature and you can probably imagine my mindset each May.

2014-05-18 23.02.38JJ and me at our last Shakespeare’s hangout last month. We point off into the heights of a glorious future.

In creating my Becoming the Student portrait of JJ, I wanted to maintain my method – a short session from observation, with only minor changes after the fact – while at the same time celebrating her achievement. I’m glad she agreed to pose in her cap and was willing to maintain a calm – if a tad pensive and sad – expression. If you know anything about her work (click here if not), you know that the seriousness of her pose and quietude of her face here are nothing like what you’d normally see in an image of her.

JJportraitJJ, MFA. Oil on panel, 8 inches in diameter, 2014.

I’ll sure miss her shouting “SIRRRRRR!” when she sees me.

I already do.

Inspiration: Students

I started this blog five years and two days ago, and one of the things I’ve enjoyed most about it is sharing the work of my students. I never try to over-sell it. Most of my students are not Art majors. Many of them have had very little art-making experience before they take my classes. Yet they always make transformational movements, always end up showing themselves things they never imagined doing. I want to share a few of my Spring 2014 students’ works and words below. They were inspirational to me this semester. All images and words shared with permission.

photo 1Tayler Newcomer, Undeclared Major. Self Portrait Study, 14 by 11 inches, Graphite.

“Everything changed when I walked in this classroom at the beginning of this semester. This class has changed the way I thought of drawing, and even my perspective on life. I found myself more focused and calm when I drew instead of anxious and judged. It helped to bring back this hope and urge to draw that I used to have when I was a little kid and I’m not sure if I can even fully explain what that means to me. What I’ve taken from this class is honestly a little more uncertainty, but I know that’s not a bad thing… I just had thought to myself that I could never be an artist or a musician or a writer. Yet I still draw, still play music, and I still write on that novel I’m almost sure I’ll never finish. I want to go out and appreciate this wonderful gift of life that has been bestowed upon us.” – Tayler Newcomer.
imageTayler Newcomer, Undeclared Major. Self Portrait Study, 18 by 24 inches, Graphite.
~
2014-05-03 16.00.51Emily Crane, Graphic Design Major, Softball. Master Copy after LeRoy Neiman, 24 by 18 inches, Pastel.
“I want to see things through others’ eyes and be open to change! In the rest of my life I want to keep trying to be slow to anger and quick to love, and care as Jesus would. I pray my life will be a light for people in one way or another!” – Emily Crane.
2014-05-03 15.55.14Emily Crane, Graphic Design Major, Softball. Self Portrait Off Third Base, from a M, 24 by 18 inches, Pastel.
~
image[1]Blessing Ikoro, Psychology Major. Self Portrait Study, 14 by 11 inches, Colored Pencil.
“If it were not for a sense of the whole I would not be me when I draw my self portraits. I would not be such a pronounced image within the scene that I draw; it is the universe itself that helps pronounce my image. The drawing then has a sense of the whole as well.” – Blessing Ikoro.
image[2]Blessing Ikoro, Psychology Major. Study of Busts of Caesar and Apollo, 24 by 18 inches, Charcoal.
~
2014-05-03 16.00.58Amanda Bradley, Art Major. Master Copy after Dutch Master, 24 by 18 inches, Colored Pencil.
~
2014-05-03 16.00.38Shayna Painter, Business Administration Major. Master Copy after Kupka, 18 by 18 inches, Colored Pencil.
~
“The way you see something and the way you experience it are so different. The visual aspect of anything isn’t more important than what you learned from it or now it made you feel.” – Hunter Whitt, Elementary Education Major.
~
These young women were just a few of the outstanding students I had this semester. Here’s hoping they continue on with the art impulse.

Banality

I’ve had a number of what could be termed crises of faith over the last few years. Given that my life isn’t particularly compartmentalized, arenas slide over and influence one another. This can be for good or ill: A car needing to get fixed shows up on my choice of palette. The sickly child informs my lesson plans. A poorly executed drawing demonstration syncs up with indigestion.

One of the difficulties I have found in teaching the fundamentals of drawing and painting (something I’ve been doing for nearly a decade) is that I have become more and more detached from the epic expansiveness of potential meaning I once saw so easily in everything.

If that seems counter-intuitive, you’re right. On the one hand, I’m opening up this huge world for students and advocating for its meaning-making properties. Sometimes I do a good job at this; sometimes it clicks. On the other hand, however, often I have to break things down so far that they become divested of their mystery. This is probably because I’m not the best teacher – nor the best student – I could be.

But it is also that, amidst the urgency of schedules and diapers and curricula and learning goals and policy committees and trying to eat right and falling off ladders and mowing the lawn and hoping I’m a good dad, the horizon of my universe has shrunk. I can no longer connect to the mysteries. When I look in their direction they seem blank – I seem blank. I look at pictures that used to inspire me and fire me up… I can feel the echoes of what I felt 10 or 20 years ago, yet they seem vague, hollow, incomplete, impotent, and affected attempts. I painfully sense the depths to which I once could swim, but realize I no longer try those fathoms. The shallows, it seems, are the extent of my aesthetic, spiritual, and intellectual submersion these days.

All of the hard-fought attempts I’ve made as an artist and writer seem to, generally, make little or no connection to others. This is not a statement meant to engender pity toward me. I’m not begging for praise. I simply recognize that the average viewer/reader receives perhaps 10% of the passion, reflection, or depth I intended. I am thankful for that 10% of understanding. I’m thankful for every picture I’ve had the honor to show or sell and grateful for every piece of writing I’ve had the privilege to publish into the world. Yet I feel that I can no longer put so much time or energy into these things. It’s not that I don’t want to do it, it’s that I don’t have the depth anymore. Those corridors are closed off. I have shrunk. The extent of my vision has stalled. The infinite chiaroscuro of the universe has fled from me.

I’m not writing this to garner sympathy. I’m just trying to be honest. I think this is part of the life of an artist. Perhaps this too shall pass. I only know that my ability to believe in the value of plumbing the depths is all but gone, and I’m almost not even sad about it. What happens when you no longer feel tethered to what used to be your deepest motivation?

So much of what happened in the best work I’ve made over the last 20 years can be chalked up to faith. I can see passages of paintings and drawings where I had faith, where I had belief in the work. What happened in them was beyond technique and ability, beyond solid ideas or philosophical underpinning. The best ones went far beyond my knowing how to make them. When you lose that faith, how can you ever see or do those things again?

I know I am lucky. I get to teach, get to make paintings and drawings and prints. I get to show my work. But in doing all of that I can see how things atrophy and become stilted. The raging river stagnates. Will I be making tame pictures of flowers in 20 years? I hope not. Yet I feel a domestication growing. When one has a creative itch to scratch but no longer has emotional, spiritual, or intellectual access to the deep things of life the result is often the height of banality.

So artists, pundits, and mass-shooters proliferate. Another day, another war, another hundred thousand more orphans. Google knows what Star Trek-themed trinket I’m most likely to buy (and I actually consider buying it). I remember less and less of the awkward dreams of the 20-year-old me while the 40-year-old me who can no longer run with his kids comes more and more into focus. Perhaps it’s all an episode that would pass with a couple more hours of sleep each night, or with actually cutting red meat out of my diet. Or perhaps it’s just how things are, and I’ll have to figure out how to reach those old depths again after another decade and a second wind.

#montanniversary

A year ago today I got to participate in one of the most amazing events of my life – I officiated the wedding of two of my former students, Amanda and Keith. They are awesome. The wedding was incredible. I was just honored to be involved (and get to quote some Hafez, too!).

8917217604_3b7ac9c6fd_oHere I am preparing for the ceremony. Photo by Keith Montgomery, June 1, 2013.

One of the gifts the new couple gave me was an awesome sculpture made of graphite, created by Batle Studios in San Francisco (click there to see the objects – they’re beautiful). To honor them on their anniversary, I decided to draw a small picture with the sculpture itself. Though not quite as easy to use as a standard pencil, my graphite shell was perfect for the task. I drew a small china plate with a chunk of bread on it – a tableau I had seen at the wedding (Keith and Amanda shared Eucharist together during their wedding).

2014-03-02 20.26.07Here I am beginning the drawing, back on March 3, 2014. Below is the final product:

keith-main

Congratulations on your first anniversary, Amanda and Keith! Thank you for all that you are!

~

 

 

Becoming the Student, #13: Kevin Stark

Way back on St Patrick’s Day Kevin Stark and I sat down to share some Guinness and make a portrait. After a long while I’m finally posting it. It’s one of my favorites of the Becoming the Student series, and I am very happy I documented its creation in a video. See that video at the bottom of this post.

2014-03-18 17_17_11Kevin Stark. Digital drawing created with Adonit Jot Touch 4 in Sketchbook Pro on iPad Air, 2014. Click for enlargement.

On Shared Experiences

“I try to be present. I don’t like it when I’m not. That’s why I’ve been doing this game night thing. The games themselves are a blast – I love the strategy and going for the win and all – but I really love the way that games reveal things about people and you get to know them. I’ve always been big on shared experiences. I derive quite a bit of joy from knowing and being with people. Like, I’m not so interested in going to see a movie with someone. But, for instance, going to the True/False festival with someone – doing something you have to journey through together – is something I love. You’re participating in it together, sharing it together, and every connection between you is growing. Those are the kind of things I’m big on.”

On His Rebellious Childhood

“Everything that I’m into now I said I hated as a kid, like Star Wars, the Red Socks, and The Beatles. My dad tried to introduce me to each one of them and I was like, ‘NOO!’ I’m glad I grew out of that ‘cause they’re pretty awesome.”

On Mellowing Out

“I’m more OK with people mellowing out. I used to be annoyed that this concept of a ‘restless youth’ thing was just a youth thing. The idea that people sometimes become confortable with things… I guess I’m mellowing out about mellowing out.”

On Music

“I’m really into discovering new music right now. There’s too much. Too much. I really like Daytrotter. It’s a download website where a bunch of bands from around the world share four song sets and they get posted.”

“And Destroyer. You ever heard Destroyer? Oh, man – it’s great! Get into Destroyer. He has two albums that have affected me greatly.”

“I’m annoyed at how much I’m a sucker for long songs.”

On His Portrait

“Thanks for not making me make a stanky face for two hours.”

Digital painting of my friend Kevin Stark. Two hours.

Becoming the Student, #0: Geo the Woodworker

I first met Geo when my wife and I lived up in Evanston, IL. He was iconic on our street, his long gray hair always a sight to see. He and his family own several of my artworks, and I have always enjoyed my conversations with the man. He is a gentleman and a scholar, and given to grand gestures and deep sincerity. Once, back in 2009, he drove 8 hours (one way!) to see an exhibition of mine and take me out to dinner. He’s a really unique soul and I’m glad to know him.

In late 2013 I had the opportunity to draw Geo at a pastel workshop I was giving at the Evanston Art Center (in conjunction with an exhibition I was in there). I was glad that Geo was willing to sit for me; I’d always though him a man possessing a regal bearing, similar to a Founding Father or deity.

DSC_0412Geo the Woodworker, Pastel on toned paper, 24 by 18 inches. 2013.

After I began working on my Becoming the Student series, I realized that my drawing of Geo was, perhaps, the true initiation of the project. So, in the spirit of Becoming the Student, I asked Geo to tackle a few questions for me, and his answers are below. After reading through them, be sure to check out his website to see his fantastic work!

On How Long He Has Been a Woodworker

“I started in with wood even before I knew it.  Then in college I had the opportunity to study with a real master carver and through that experience I just knew… it seemed to be in my blood. That was back in 1975, so at least that long.”

On What Life Lessons and/or Epiphanies Working With Wood Has Given Him

“I guess I’ve learned that it – the work, regardless of subject or use – is all the same. Here’s the bottom line: it is not what you do but HOW YOU DO IT. Every stroke of the chisel counts, whether you are carving The Baby Jesus, the Presidential Shield, or just making a Push Stick to use on that big table saw. You must come to know that everything counts forever or nothing matters at all. I would suggest that you move toward the light in all things.”

On The Most Beautiful Work of Art He Has Seen or Heard

“First, a poem: Maud Muller, by John Greenleaf Whittier.  Second: my Foo Dogs. My wife gave them to me for my 50th birthday and they are as good as good gets!”

On How His Creativity Had Changed Over The Years

“I believe it has gotten thicker, not just longer or with greater elasticity. This is a blessing to be sure. But all things considered I’d have to say it’s thicker, yeah. More thick.”

On What Values Motivate Him as a Man, Dad, and Artist

“OTHERS! All my life, it has been the ability I have to help others, to inspire others, to challenge them. That’s what I love.”

On How To Recharge Creativity

“Go outside. OPEN your eyes. Read a book. Take in a beach, a mountain, a river. Go to the Wailing Wall. SEE and BE. Remember: hard work is hard work. The ‘best you can do’ is rarely the easiest answer.”

On His Earliest Art Experience

“I’m not sure how old I was, but I have clear early memories of my aunt sitting in a kitchen somewhere knitting. I asked what she was making and she said, “Another sweater, just like the one your uncle is wearing.” Well that seemed hard to believe: ‘YOU made THAT??’ Sure enough. At the time I didn’t know yet that my mom and her sisters could knit like that: an Irish fisherman’s sweater with those rope patterns up the front. How could a person do that? It was impossible for me to imagine how it was done. It’s like at the Consecration, but even better. I mean, you get to WEAR the sweater. Yes, I was raised Catholic; I always thought that catholic meant, ‘closer to the real Art’.”

On How Being a Dad Has Changed His Work

“My son is here to remind me that we are all but links in an endless chain. As the old poem (Thanatopsis, by William Cullen Bryant) goes:

‘The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes

In the full strength of years, matron and maid,

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side

By those who in their turn shall follow them.’

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man–Shall one by one be gathered to thy sideBy those who in their turn shall follow them.
Read more at http://www.poetry-archive.com/b/thanatopsis.html#I2Z2Tok0sel6VB3M.99

SO LIVE!”

~

imageGeo’s self portrait before the portrait demo I made. Epic!

~

Thanks, Geo, for your friendship and exuberance over the years!

Two Shows Going Up Soon!

I’m involved with two really great group shows based on the landscape right now. One is at the Deines Cultural Center in Russell, KS and the other is at IMAGO in Columbia, MO. The IMAGO show – Landscape: Idea and Ideal – is the inaugural exhibition for this new downtown gallery space. It’s really beautiful and I’m honored to show with a group of friends and former students Eric Norby, Matt Rahner, Megan Schaffer, and David Spear.

imagoimageA panorama of the Imago interior – it’s a beaut! Click for enlargement.

The group show at the Deines – called Finding Balance – is also about landscape. Curated by Joel T Dugan, the show features 15 artists from around the country and the catalog for the show looks really sweet. Norby and Schaffer are also in this exhibition, as is my good friend and former student Jacob Maurice Crook, who just recently earned his MFA from Syracuse University. Glory all around!

findingbalanceNice to see Norby’s work on the cover of the catalog – Click to download it!

Becoming The Student #11: Allison Jacqueline Reinhart

Allison Reinhart (go to her website here) is a former student of mine who has been pretty instrumental in my growth as an educator over the last few years. We’ve worked together on a number of projects, each one more beneficial than the last. Her last solo exhibition was fantastic, and I was able to write about it for neotericART (click here to read the piece). Allison, as a student leader and presence on campus here at Mizzou, has had a deep impact for educational accessibility, universal design, and inclusiveness in our community (you can read about some of that here).

IMG_9291The Gaze of Allison Jacqueline Reinhart, pastel on paper mounted on panel, reclaimed oak. 18 by 18 inches, 2014. (Click for enlargement)

This portrait of Allison is one of my favorite works in a long time. Not only do I feel that it captures something of her take no BS attitude and strength, I also think the drawing has a clarity and directness that Allison also possesses. The reclaimed oak frame was something I built from a very old drawing desk that had been thrown out. When I saw the desk in the dumpster I knew I could make something substantial and beautiful from it. I think the frame really completes the piece, giving it a sense of solidity and authority.

I don’t want to go on and on, but Allison (as well as Gina Ceylan, who will be a forthcoming Becoming The Student subject) has been important in helping me to grasp the reality that affording access as broadly as possible – be that educational, social, or political – is not to be an afterthought for civilized societies. It should be front and center. It is not a special service or add-on benefit to accommodate the access and needs of my students; it should be a primary focus of my work as an educator. I’m thankful for the many conversations Allison and I have had about these issues.

On Neil deGrasse Tyson Explaining Things

“Listening to Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining things makes you realize how cool things are and could be, but also how shitty things actually are… and then I get sad. I mean, we understand all these great things about the universe but can’t even make health care affordable and universal. Makes me want to just go back to bed.”

On Her Portrait:

“Where’s my ermine?”

“That’s how I roll. This is my sitting up posture. It’s also my laying down posture.”

On the Becoming The Student Project:

“You sure know a lot of hairy men!”

On Awkwardness:

“I wish everyone understood that we’re all fucking awkward. Just go with it, people.”

To hear more from Allison – as well as other who have worked toward a better, more inclusive environment at Mizzou, watch this short film.

~