Scene Fifty-Five: SART

My inner debate was ruthless, but in the end I won. Foregoing more "practical" academic pursuits, namely those which would pave the popular path to med school, I am taking Studio Art 15- Drawing I. The work load is infamously monumental. And I love ever stroke of it.

Ever since I developed the motor skills necessary to grasp a mark-making tool, my imagination has galloped across the walls, canvases, physics tests, and sidewalks of my life. More recently I found a love of collage-making and incorporating found items into otherwise more traditional pieces. I'm a magpie, it's said: I pick up bits of string and broken umbrellas and anything else I can carry home. Sometime I may be able to use it, after all.

This seems simple enough: I make art, I should study art. But it isn't that easy. As dearly as I love rendering my own reality out of items that belong to another, I don't see how that benefits anyone other than myself, and I can't stand the thought of existing without improving others. For all that I am, selfish is not in my repertoire.

But what of it? After some much-needed perspective adjustment (enter a nod to Ayn Rand) I determined that even from selfish acts can others benefit. So I'm elbow-deep in charcoal and shredded paper, spending hours staring down a junky heel and some ferns on pedestals. Translating, sheet by sheet, my mind to paper. Enjoy.

© Copyright Callista Womick 2010

Scene Fifty-Four Point Five: Roommates

Privacy is as much a priority as you make it and, as indicated by "my" previous post, I sometimes slack off. I leave my room door open. Neglect to connect my bike lock. Leave my laptop logged in when I shower.

My roommate, Ben Katz, took advantage of my trust. And, judging by the content of his post, my music library as well. Here's the song he sourced:

I suppose now is as good a time as ever to talk about gender neutral housing.

No, 'Ben' isn't one of those gender-ambiguous nicknames that college students sometimes acquire. My roommate is a man. This is possible because at Dartmouth, in some clusters at least, a number of rooms are specified as available to residents of any and all genders. As far as I am aware none of these rooms actually require residents to share bedrooms (the room that Ben and I have is a two-room double), but we do share a bathroom. Peacefully, I'll add. Occasional assaults upon my privacy notwithstanding, we're wonderfully compatible roomies.

Even though most gender neutral rooms go to same-sex roommate pairs, I'm really glad that Dartmouth recognizes the diverse needs of its student body in this way. And as The Dartmouth reported in 2007, the first year that this option was available, it's well-received. Who knows, maybe someday all housing will be categorized as "gender neutral" and it will be up to all students to determine which fit is best for them.

Scene Fifty-Four: Look at me! Look at me!

"Hands in the air like it's good to be/
alive, and I'm"

-a famous rapper

Scene Fifty-Three: "This above all:

..to thine own self be true."

 So quoth the Bard with Polonius's voice.

Some people fret endlessly over distribs, spending hours scanning the ORC and working in Word to ensure that they fulfill every. single. one. by Sophomore Summer. I do a bit of that, but ordinarily my trouble comes to naught when I ultimately shuffle my schedule per passion rather than prudence.

This term is no exception. I began with a swell-enough schedule: Linguistics 1 (10), Arabic 21 (11), and Studio Art 15 (or Drawing I, 2A).

But '-enough' really wasn't. On the first day of classes I opted to accompany my bosom friend Rebecca Drapkin to a class that she promised would please: Shakespeare I, taught by a Professor Brett Gamboa newly arrived to the faculty.

Have you ever enjoyed reading a syllabus? I mean really enjoyed it as an art form in and of itself? At noon I marched to McNutt to have the Registrar's Office rearrange my affairs, but everyone was on lunch break. So I bid an hour of my time and at 1pm was in the queue with several dozen other students seeking to get into (or out of) key classes. Despite the foreboding sign in the foyer, the process was painless and I was in-done-out in under five minutes.

Ought I have traded in a QDS for Shakespeare, you wonder? Well, it just so happens to be the W that I need.

"Now go we in content
To liberty, and not to banishment."

"Beyond This Place There Be Dragons"
© Copyright Callista Womick 2010

Scene Fifty-Two: '14s!

Last night I performed with the World Music Percussion Ensemble and volunteered at Night at The Hop. From pottery to performing to painting, The Hop is the hub of student artistic involvement at Dartmouth and last night was a flamboyant showcase of all that it has to offer. (There were also free shirts, cookies, and cider.)

Since arriving to campus early to lead my DOC Trip, I've had more than enough down time during pre-o and orientation to meet many members of the incoming class. I must say, they're pretty fabulous. I mean, just look at these stats. And that speaks nothing of their futures here. These '14s look to be a great lot; I can't wait to see them roll up their sleeves, strut their stuff, and color campus.

© Copyright Callista Womick 2010

Scene Fifty-One: Tripz!!!

For DOC Trips '10 I co-led G902, Organic Farming, with the magnanimous Rob Marwanga '12. I can't divulge many of the niceties for confidentiality/kicks-and-giggles reasons, but here's the rough:

-We took the BFC* from Ledyard Canoe Club...
-to the Dartmouth Organic Farm...
-where we ate fresh Sungold tomatoes...
-and swam in the Connecticut River...
-and ate fresh, sweet, raw corn...
-and hiked.. a lot...
-and had the best game of Mafia of all time...
-and Trangia stir-fried fresh veggies to go with our couscous...
-and actually had running water...
-and a port-a-potty...
-although we ran out of toilet paper...
-just after we'd feasted on █████ ██████...

-and slightly before bussing to The Lodge.

Yeah, it was five days of epicness. Here are my trippees in our tarp shelter:

© Copyright Kiko Lam 2010

*Big Friendly Canoe

Scene Fifty: The Greek System

© Callista Womick 2010

A sight I never expected to see on a campus other than Dartmouth's: a frat yard littered with Keystone Light cans.

That was the only aspect of NC State's Greek scene that seemed homey, though.

On most nights at Dartmouth there are several organized parties and numerous basements open for pong. I would feel comfortable walking into any of the houses and, because almost all of our parties are open, I could. At NC State (and elsewhere) this is not the case.

While visiting a friend in the lull between most other schools starting and heading north to lead a DOC trip, we checked out some of the parties. Peering through the windows of the first house we approached, I saw a sea of cookie-cutter girls speckled with the occasional preppy guy.

"Who do you know here?" the brother at the door asked. "If you don't know anybody here, I can't let you in."

We circled around to another cluster of houses, each echoing the same sentiment.

Love it or leave it, party or not, at least our Greek houses don't check social resumes at the door.