Gleaned from nomads
A Vermont College of Fine Arts first semester experience at their summer residency
I’m off to a bad start! I said their residency, but it was mine our residency. I will touch on how it came to feel that way in a moment, but first let me tell you a little bit about how I found myself at VCFA and our residency in the first place. I will try not to beat you over the head with a why-you-should-be-there-too sort of thing. This is not a recruiting essay per se, but you should know upfront I loved it and do think you— the artists out there—should maybe be here too and would love for you— especially the active duty and veteran artists— to reach out so we can chat in more detail about my experience. Okay, last interruption: if you’ve known me for some time or have been a subscriber for long you might know some of what follows. My feelings won’t be hurt at all if you skip to the photographs of the stone buildings. But for those interested in a slightly longer preamble, let’s get back to how I ended up in the summer 2024 residency for writing.
I retired from the Corps in 2021 and began a promising career in home loan origination. As a mortgage lender who specialized in VA home loans, I found myself connected with and serving active military & veterans and genuinely enjoyed fighting the market, other lenders, and agents to get vets in homes. Though I’m confident I was the lender most likely to engage in violence on behalf of his clients, fighting is a strong word. We did beat out some cash offers though, and there might have been blood spilled, but that’s for another essay. I found myself working hard and enjoying what my vets got out of it, but I did not love the work, and I’d spent my entire adult life in uniform so that when I hung it up, I could truly love my work. It was time to hang my origination licenses up with the uniform and rediscover something I love— storytelling.
There were a few things that interested me, but storytelling (more specifically, writing stories) kept whispering in my ear— giving me chills— reminding me of what my grandmother had said to me as a child. “There’s power in written word, Aaron,” and I was determined to tap into that power. I’ll skip the next year and a half or so, but needless to say, it was full of reading and writing, academics and analysis, literature and more literature, and I feel blessed to have developed relationships with mentors and peers along the way. You know who you are!
I began looking at Master of Fine Arts low residency programs about a year ago. I was blown away to discover so many fine programs and quickly realized I would need to be selective if I wanted to keep my sanity. The MFA application process isn’t as bad as a patrol on deployment or depreciation of one’s property value, and certainly not as bad as the presidential election season or rising interest rates, but it ain’t whistlin’ Dixie down the Riverwalk either. Letters of recommendation can feel like asking cats to herd themselves through a car wash (for the record, most of my LOR requests felt more like the first sip of a cold beer on Independence Day and only one or two of them felt like July 4th, 1776). Deciding which writing sample to submit is nerve racking and writing personal statements and/or essays even more so. The applications themselves aren’t overly complicated, but they are a thing, and many require a non-refundable application fee (somewhere between $25 and $50. My brain is saying one of my fees was $75, but that seems high, so I’m not sure).
Then, of course, there is the waiting. In the end, I applied to nine low-res writing programs, bracketed between my top four, a few back-ups, and two in-the-bags as back-up-back-ups. Oh, and I needed the VA to approve an extension to my Chapter 31 Veteran Readiness and Employment Program education benefits.
Side note, if you happen to be an active duty or veteran artist, PLEASE reach out! There are things I wish I knew about Ch 31 and this program years ago. Seriously, shoot me a line.
An approval letter came in quick enough, and a weight was lifted, but I was still anxious about my top choices, which VCFA fell into.
I’ve been asked why I chose VCFA’s program over the others, say Benington or Eastern Kentucky University or Alma College or any of the other programs I was accepted into and/or applied. I’ve also been asked why I didn’t wait for some of the other programs to reply before choosing. For the record, Bennington was in the top bracket, but they don’t have rolling applications and release decisions too close to when I was looking to begin my program, so I withdrew my application along with the others soon after a few of my top choices came in. All of the programs I applied to are good and some are great, certainly my top choices, but something about VCFA resonated with me.
Maybe it was their history. Maybe it was the unique structure of the program (unique even among other low-residency models). Or maybe it was the way they communicated with me. Faculty reached out and answered all of my questions, and not only soft-ball questions. They got to the point on issues of creative expression and censorship in an academic environment (kudos Ellen).
It could have been them welcoming me to attend the next residency as a prospective student (for free) or their encouragement to participate in the mid-semester programing, which I did regularly. On one such occasion, a faculty member sent me a DM and invited me to forward him some work. He said he’d take a look and provide feedback as if I were a student. Took him up on it. He was genuine, but you can be genuine and also smart (super kudos Rick; you deserve a raise, sir).
My gut was singing, “This is where you belong,” and I was listening…
The obvious answer is that it was a combination of everything, but after so many years training my ear to listen to my gut, it was the intangible tune which swayed me towards Vermont College of Fine Arts. My gut was singing, “This is where you belong,” and I was listening. With four respectful withdrawals, four grateful no-thanks, and one elated yes-please I was headed to VCFA in the summer.
This is a good spot to pick up the essay if you skipped ahead.
VCFA is going through a transition period, ending what I heard affectionately referred to as “Our nomadic experience.” They’ve hosted the past few residencies at various campuses across the country, and the last— the one I attended— was at the beautiful Colorado College campus in Colorado Springs, Colorado. That’s fun to say.
I’m putting the cart a bit before the horse here with my own story, but they’ve finalized a partnership with the California Institute of the Arts— yep, that CalArts— to have, among other outstanding tangible benefits, a permanent state of the art location for our residencies. This partnership is beneficial for both institutions in many ways, not least of which a reduction in the stress of logistics planning and execution for faculty and staff, but I don’t think it should be lost on anyone the positive communal affects a nomadic experience has on people. And these people— the nomadic VCFA people— have it oozing from their very pores. I’m confident a permanent residency location won’t change our nomadic spirit in the least. Afterall, we’re made up of artists from all over the world and from every walk of life. The creative churn our community makes isn’t settling at all. If anything, it’s ramping up.
As a new student (considered alumni from day one at VCFA—the President’s words), I had joined a family. A mobile one, sure, but rivet tight, and they welcomed me with open arms. They welcomed my unique perspective and experience(s) as a U.S. Marine and veteran. They welcomed my creative voice. They welcomed my energy— and matched it in kind. And I became a nomad with them— one of them— alumni from jump— and I loved it!
I found the support staff (many of them program graduates) got the magic of VCFA and just wanted to share it with others. The faculty (quite a few are graduates of the program as well, and most seem to have worked at VCFA for some time) were beloved by the students and poured themselves into even the freshest of faces. One of the graduate assistants who mentored us newbies referred to the residency as a vacation, and you really got the sense, despite the necessary creative energy and physical demands required to row the boat in a productive direction, it wasn’t a tax for anyone. Everyone was invigorated by the effort and rowed harder, more and more in unison with each beat of the program director’s drum (perfect pace, Sam).
When you’re at a VCFA residency, it feels like there’s a secret— a secret to creative fulfillment— and they’re screaming it from the mountain top. As a first semester student, it also feels a little like the wind is blowing too hard for you to hear, but you can see lips moving behind warm smiles and their arms beckoning you to come closer.
You might be thinking right about now, “Okay, Aaron. I get it; you liked it. You loved it… But what happened?”
I could give you a day-by-day account, but it would stretch on forever, so I’ll just highlight some of my favorite parts. First and foremost, it was the people. VCFA conducts all of its program residencies at the same time, so there’s ridiculous opportunity for cross pollination.
The guy on the other side of my dorm wall, Daniel Brophy, is a world class visual artist living in Denmark and we spent a lot of time picking each other’s brains about his art, my writing, and our shared love of cinema. He even brought along some other visual artists to listen to one of my readings and I skipped the only in person event I missed to visit his graduate art display.
I met a graphic artist, Owen Cassidy, who lives in Uruguay but is from near my house. We had 13 hours of fruitful conversation on the drive from Colorado to Texas, and there’s some collaboration in the works even as you read this. Owen is also a talented musician, so check out some of his work here.
I met and discussed film with film students, music with musicians (I have a collaboration in the works with one of them too) and writing and life with faculty. I sat in on a dozen or more lectures with world class (and in several cases world renown) writers and poets, readings, and Q&A panels. I was in a tiger-team of a workshop with several poets, literary translators, and at least one other fiction writer, who collectively spoke and translated probably a dozen languages and we’re planning on continuing our workshop monthly. Here’s to the Rick Jackson Student Support Group and Translation Committee, a name they have yet to endorse.
I got to emcee the first student reading of the residency and read some of my own work at two others. I wrote or started to write three new pieces of poetry in between lectures and had the seeds of another two stories sewn (working on the first now).
…it was like eclectic-folk concentrate and the residency was the water. Add sugar— or whiskey— to taste. It struck me about halfway through the residency that the last time I felt so connected to a group of folks, working together with the same goal in mind, I was a Staff Sergeant of Marines…
I’m used to an eclectic bunch of folks, having spent so many years in the Corps and traveled to so many places, but it was like eclectic-folk concentrate and the residency was the water. Add sugar— or whiskey— to taste. It struck me about halfway through the residency that the last time I felt so connected to a group of folks, working together with the same goal in mind, I was a Staff Sergeant of Marines with cross rifles on my collar.
A special note about one of the books I got at the residency.
’s novel, The Singer Sisters, comes out on August 6th, but you can pre-order it here right now. Her reading was killer and I’m stoked to crack open this book! I also encourage you to check out more of her writing on her website at sarahseltzer.wordpress.com.
I could go on, but I said I’d “try not to beat you over the head with a why-you-should-be-there-too sort of thing.” If it’s felt like a sermon, you should feel free to beat me over the head with the weightiest bible you can get your hands on. Alas, I choose art today over violence, so I’ll wrap things up.
A day or so after I returned, my wife and I were having coffee out back. I must have still had the VCFA residency glow. I think it’s a thing— ideas and stories were churning and growing inside of me. She smiled at me.
“What,” I asked.
“Nothing. I just haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”
“I’ve been this happy,” I said. “You make me happy— the girls—”
“I mean really happy.” She cut my list short. “With what you’re doing. Happy doing something you love. I’m proud of you,” she said. “You deserve it.”
The residency was fun— great fun— and rewarding and generative and worth every second, but I think she recognized something which I hadn’t until that moment. I had learned the secret, which really isn’t a secret at all. It’s part of the nomadic treasure that is VCFA, regardless of where the residencies are held, and it’s part of me now too.
The secret is one’s place isn’t a place at all, but in the heart and spirit. Community, at its best, is more than a group of people; it’s family. And art isn’t everything, but maybe it could be more— should be more.
I’ll see everyone in January, wherever we may be.
Semper Fidelis.
Your enthusiasm for the program really comes through!
Great story man. Very well written. El Ef Geeeee! =)))