Tag Archives: Mary Washington College

Dirty Dishes and Memory Lane

My big brother and Mary Washington College Alum, Russel Morgan, visited campus recently and took some terrific photos  — MWC has changed a LOT since 1994, but there are still many places I recognize.

The first picture is of the dining hall where I worked as a student employee — horsing around with the other kids, constantly drinking coffee and that sweet red “bug juice” punch, and adopting cookies, cheeseburgers and tater tots as staple foods.  It is also where I worked countless hours on “Dishline,” the assembly-line-like workspace where I and the other kids cleaned all the dishes that were returned.  Wow.  That was a lot of wet work.  I believe that I still smell of ketchup to this day.  I indeed capitalize “Dishline,” as it is both famous and infamous, and figured largely in the formative years of many past students.  If you attended Mary Wash and you know what being “on carts” was, then you are a “Seacobeck Alum.”

Also pictured, in the second photo, are New Hall and Alvey Hall.  (I’m certain new Hall must have been dubbed with a donor’s name in the intervening years since I graduated.)  The men and women I lived among here are among the finest I’ve ever met.  To quote the Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode, “I Accuse My Parents,”  “I threw some kickass parties here.”

In the third photo are Mason and Randolph Halls.  My college girlfriend (and possibly the sweetest person I’ve ever met), Kim Haun, lived in Mason.  That low-lying structure linking the two was a literal tunnel, where dorm rooms existed at the time.  (We quite creatively nicknamed it “The Tunnel.”)  Here is where I partied as a Freshman with Steve Miller.  (No, not the musician, Steve Miller — but the irony here is that my pal Steve was a huge fan of the eponymous star and played all of his albums while we sipped rum and cokes on the weekends.)  My college experience would never have been the same if Steve and his upperclassmen friends hadn’t taken me under their wing.

[EDIT — It was actually MWC Janet Walbroehl Winston who took these photos!! Russ, you scene-stealer!!!]

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Seacobeck Dining Hall.

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New Hall and Alvey Hall.

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Mason and Randolph Halls, with”The Tunnel” in the middle.

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Ball Hall.

“From the Journals of the Journals of the Frog Prince,” by Susan Mitchell

Celebrate National Poetry Month — this piece, hands down, is my favorite poem that I read in my classes at Mary Washington College.  I love it to this day.

Thanks to Inward Bound Poetry for the text.

 

“From the Journals of the Frog Prince”

In March I dreamed of mud,
sheets of mud over the ballroom chairs and table,
rainbow slicks of mud under the throne.
In April I saw mud of clouds and mud of sun.
Now in May I find excuses to linger in the kitchen
for wafts of silt and ale,
cinnamon and river bottom,
tender scallion and sour underlog.

At night I cannot sleep.
I am listening for the dribble of mud
climbing the stairs to our bedroom
as if a child in a wet bathing suit ran
up them in the dark.

Last night I said, “Face it, you’re bored
How many times can you live over
with the same excitement
that moment when the princess leans
into the well, her face a petal
falling to the surface of the water
as you rise like a bubble to her lips,
the golden ball bursting from your mouth?”
Remember how she hurled you against the wall,
your body cracking open,
skin shriveling to the bone,
the green pod of your heart splitting in two,
and her face imprinted with every moment
of your transformation?

I no longer tremble.

Night after night I lie beside her.
“Why is your forehead so cool and damp?” she asks.
Her breasts are soft and dry as flour.
The hand that brushes my head is feverish.
At her touch I long for wet leaves,
the slap of water against rocks.

“What are you thinking of?” she asks.
How can I tell her
I am thinking of the green skin
shoved like wet pants behind the Directoire desk? 
Or tell her I am mortgaged to the hilt
of my sword, to the leek-green tip of my soul?
Someday I will drag her by her hair
to the river—and what? Drown her?
Show her the green flame of my self rising at her feet?
But there’s no more violence in her
than in a fence or a gate.

“What are you thinking of? she whispers.
I am staring into the garden.
I am watching the moon
wind its trail of golden slime around the oak,
over the stone basin of the fountain.
How can I tell her
I am thinking that transformations are not forever?

 

http://inwardboundpoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/22-from-journals-of-frog-prince-susan.html

An old friend and a great short horror film. THEY WILL COME FOR YOU!!!

I was cleaning out some old bookmarks tonight when I happened across this link — it’s a trippy-cool short horror film, and it includes an appearance by my great old friend and Mary Washington College alumnus, Travis Clements.

It title is “They Will Come for You,” and it was featured in the 2008 Virginia Film Festival.  It delivers a darn good dose of creepiness for a film that is less than five minutes long — I think Travis and his friends did a great job with it.

If you’re wondering, Travis is the tall drink of water in the back.  (I have always wanted to refer to someone as “a tall drink of water” after Red describes Andy that way in “The Shawshank Redemption,” and Travis is the tallest guy I know.)

 

My latest mention in the University of Mary Washington Magazine’s “Class Notes”

I am also quite grateful to see that the University of Mary Washington Magazine’s “Class Notes” section mentioned Illumen Magazine’s publication of my “Three Dreamers” set of poems this past winter.

http://magazine.umw.edu/spring2014/class-notes/1990s/

A big step for “Next Steps.”

My Mary Washington College “Big Brother,” Russell Morgan, has an imdb page for his planned television series, “Next Steps!”

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3481774/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

“La Befana: An Italian Night After Christmas”

Well, I had a nice holiday treat today — I got acquainted with the children’s stories of my old friend and Mary Washington College alum, Sunday Frey-Blanchard. Sunday was kind enough to share her work with me, and I was charmed by her natural talent as an engaging storyteller.

Sunday actually published her first children’s book in 2007, entitled “La Befana: An Italian Night After Christmas.” I peeked inside using Amazon’s “Look Inside” option, and the illustrations, by Sunday’s father, are adorable. If you’re looking for a new tale to share with your little ones this holiday season, give it a look:

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Cover Artwork for “The Dogs Don’t Bark In Brooklyn Any More” to be Revealed Next Week.

Thanks to Dagda Publishing for another kind mention in its weekly newsletter today; the cover artwork for my upcoming novel, “The Dogs Don’t Bark In Brooklyn Any More,” should be revealed next week.

🙂

“Confession” receives very positive reader response.

I received a very gracious note today from the good folks over at Dead Beats Literary Blog.  They informed me that my poem, “Confession,” which was published there yesterday, received more than 70 “notes” — “likes,” “reblogs” and positive comments.  This is an unusual amount for a single piece, they explained.

I am very grateful — both to Dead Beats and to their readers who reacted so kindly to my work.  🙂

“Confession” can be viewed here:

http://www.deadbeats.eu/post/63481494199/confession-by-eric-robert-nolan#notes

Every Day Fiction features “The Silver Leaf”

Every Day Fiction today featured my very short story, “The Silver Leaf.”  This is an extremely short vignette about two lost souls in the Irish Republican Army, on the eve of a midnight mission, who briefly ponder the perils of being “real.”
This will be my first professionally published short story, and the staff of Every Day Fiction was quite gracious and easy to work with.  I’m grateful to them for welcoming me into the community there.
The story can be viewed here:

Dead Beats Literary Blog features my poem, “Confession”

PUBLICATION NOTICE.

I am honored to be able to share that Dead Beats Literary Bog today kindly published my poem, “Confession.”

This is a poem that is not for everybody, due to its darker themes and sexual imagery, as well as its criticism of organized religion. It definitely drew mixed reactions from people to whom I had shown it before submission.

I still stand by the piece, however, and I am quite grateful for Dead Beats for allowing me a forum for a poem like this.

THANK YOU, DEAD BEATS!

http://www.deadbeats.eu/post/63481494199/confession-by-eric-robert-nolan