University of Louisville - Birthplace of BGF
Picture taken by Krista
As stated in the inaugural blog post, the Bad Good Friends first reconnected at the University of Louisville as it was the halfway point from Ayrielle and Krista, who at the time we're living in two different states.
Like many universities in the United States, the University of Louisville can contribute to the foundations of its institution of higher education when eight men in 1789 declared their intent to start a seminary school. If you are unfamiliar with how colleges and universities became the institutions they are today -- it’s either because they evolved from guilds, a group of men who wanted to be priests, or a group of underserved individuals who created their own path. But we digress -- during most of the 19th century it struggled to be a place of education advancement without the assistance of the state legislature, it wasn’t until the end of the 19th century that the university started to stand on its own. It created an abundance of new colleges at its institution and adopted and practiced accreditation guidelines to bring validity to the quality of its education. While the G.I Bill helped many universities flourish in size and amenities, the post-World War II era brought financial staring. The neighboring all-black Louisville Municipal College closed due to desecration efforts in the city. And while the University of Louisville was admitting a more diverse student population, the population of the city was moving out of the city which seriously affected the funds of an institution that was municipally funded. In 1970 the university finally joined the state-wide system of higher education, and we started to see the administrative developments that shape it to the university it is today.
A Brief History of the University of Louisville. (https://louisville.edu/about/history)
Mission and Vision Statement (https://louisville.edu/about/)
When the Bad Good Friends arrived at the University of Louisville it was a rainy day thanks to a tropical storm, Gordon. As a result, there would not be plans to meander around campus too much so we opted for the campus art museum. I don’t think Ayrielle even brought an umbrella, although it would not surprise anyone that knows Krista to find that she would have packed appropriately for the weather (except for that one time that may or may not be mentioned at a later date *cough*pants). Ayrielle did pack her pockets full of loose change as she knew the parking would most likely be metered in a metropolitan-setting university. Needless to say, it was a bit hysterical to watch the dynamics of two women who wanted to see art in a strange college landscape try to find parking where nickels and dimes would be accepted. Also funny to find none of that loose change was needed because no one was outside. No one parks their car on campus to twirl their umbrella and dances on street lamps quite like Gene Kelly these days I guess.
The cold wet muck of it all required a quick pick me up at the café nook of the Speed Art Museum. We decided some warm pastries and hot coffee were in much-needed order. Poor Krista has the misfortune to have too much sugar in her coffee and the worst-tasting peanut butter cookie that we had. Honestly thinking they used quick-drying cement instead of flour to be “gluten-free”. Ayrielle took a bite of it and her face did not hide the “oh shit, that was a mistake” thought she had. Ayrielle loves peanut butter, but she will stick with trusty glutinous lemon tarts if she sees them. Cement cookie aside and not foreseeing the sugar crash Krista will have in a few hours, we were in awe of how effortless our reconnected friendship was. It helps that the night before we were chatterboxes trying to cram as much information in the gaps of time during which we were not hanging out with each other as possible.
You’ve probably heard the mutterings before -- adult friendships are hard. Unlike childhood friendships where you are essentially stuck in rooms by some institution from the age of four to eighteen, adult friendships require effort. College friends have some structure. You do get to go to classes with people who also chose those classes so there is this already non-verbal communication that is shared that “hey we both like this subject”. But it gets more difficult the more the institution or structure changes to promote work than social get-togethers. This is why part of the BGF mission is for you to take time to get out of the work. Just note that if you dig into work too much that reconnecting a friendship might mean you are exchanging one work for another until you are back at that seamless, effortless place again. If you haven’t spoken with a good friend in a long while, pause what you are doing right now and text them.
“Hey. I’ve been thinking about you lately. How are you doing?”
That's a bad good friend. Welcome back. After the chatter of Krista and Ayrielle died down, we noticed a cool bench outside the window and thought to take a moment to do something instagrammy and take pictures. Low and behold a very friendly and compassionate security guard then informed us that the bench was not entirely a bench but an installation—let us take a few pictures before he “officially” kicked us off. At the time, SPEED’s lawn was full of benches that one could not sit on (aside from the rain) because they were all art. What–the–Who is the sick bastard that did this? Why have a beautiful lawn in the middle of a college campus with lovely public space that has benches you can't sit on? Thus our first inside joke of the day and hashtag #itsaninstallation.
Twenty bucks is all that it costs for a non-UofL to tour a museum with a Tournier (who was influenced by the work of Ayrielle’s boy Caravaggio), Goltzius, Rogers, Redgrave, Rockwell, Chambers, Picasso, Noguchi, Pollock, and so forth. I hear it's free on Sundays. If your university has a museum, we recommend that you attend at least once every year. Often is the case but a very small portion of your tuition pays to keep cultural buildings such as this open to you and the community. Make a point in collecting that cultural investment. You can go by yourself, you can make it as part of a friend’s chill day, or you can even make it an affordable but romantic date. The first time you go, don’t walk briskly through but rather pause in a room. Pause in front of a piece. Ask yourself these questions: What is happening here? What are my thoughts about this piece? What is good about it, what is bad about it? Does it make sense to me? What would I do differently (if I had the skill)?
It’s perfectly acceptable to not be attracted to the art in the room which you're in or the piece before you. Sometimes the pieces in there are just blobs of paint or rock --- or they are benches and not art -- but don't initially disregard it. Once you get a lay of the land, and especially if you are with your bad good friend, make a game of the art that isn't art. Insert the second inside joke and hashtag #butisthereacat. There came a moment where Ayrielle and Krista were looking at some very interesting still-life where cats didn’t appear very feline-like at all. The game was determining how good the piece of art was based on the quality of the cat. If we saw something we liked and shared it we asked, “But is there a cat?”.
After Krista started to crash from her sugar high and Ayrielle stopped seeing cats and started to see food in every piece of art, we realized we needed to head out of Old Louisville and into the direction of NuLu. We landed on a burger join whose street sign Ayrielle read out-loud incorrectly. Like there were four signs, two rows, and two columns, and instead of reading left to right, top to bottom — as one does with English — Ayrielle went diagonal top left to bottom right. And only half of each word. The first word was Burger, and last was Bourbon. She said out-loud “Burgbon”. We had some burgbons with a side of brussel sprouts. During which we had lengthy conversations about the shared experiences in our lives. Things like growing up with fathers that supported our autonomy in making our friends but also that same father being hated by your second-grade teacher because of crayons. The southern Hoosier derogatory use of the noun “hilljack”. Being Catholic and then not being Catholic. The fact we are both stuck in this place where we crave knowledge but finding obstacles that won’t allow us to learn. After dinner, we revisited the coffee and cookie situation at Please and Thank You. Much, much better quality cookies.
Thanks for listening, see you next week Bad Good Friend.