The audience relaxed on the grass on the banks of Lake Formosa to listen to the Musicians on stage at the Orlando Folk Festival. Terry and I had a hot dog for lunch and sank into our lawn chairs. Small children were playing and dancing to the music. Those odd rusty characters are metal sculptures.
Folk Festival
This presidents day weekend the Mennello Museum of American Folk Art hosted the 7th annual Orlando Folk Festival. Admission was free. There was a stage with live music and a collection of tents with folk art and local crafts artists. The tent just right of center in this sketch was set up for the Kerouac Project. When Terry and I walked up to say hello to Kim and Summer, who were manning the booth, a woman named Helen, was looking at a photo of a Jack Kerouac residence in Orlando on Yates Street. She thought she recognized the house and called her brother in law who she thought might live there. The brother in law confirmed the address over the phone. Jack Kerouacs mysterious influence seems to be working to this day bringing people together.
While doing this sketch an artist approached me because he was curious about the Niji water brush I was using. I explained where he could get one without ever stopping work on the sketch. When he was leaving and saying goodbye, we glanced at each other for the first time. It turns out he is Brian who was my first supervisor when I started working at Disney over a dozen years ago. Brian works for Disney Merchandising to this day. He had many story’s to tell me of how the Animation Building had been taken over by management after the executives closed the Florida studio. Apparently every square inch of space is now cut up into cubicles and the only hint that for over 10 years the building was at the forefront of a golden age of animation is an animators jacket which has been encased in glass and hung near the bathrooms.
Michael Hawley Reading
I returned to the Kerouac house with my wife for a farewell reading by resident artist Michael Hawley. Upon walking in, we were warmly welcomed by a lighthearted woman named Summer. She introduced us to Kim, the VP of the Kerouac Project and then Mike the artist in residence. The warm inviting atmosphere made me feel right at home. Walking from room to room the house caused me to remember my childhood home in Dumont, NJ. For instance the lime green and white linoleum tiles in the back room are identical to the tiles I remember from the basement in my childhood home. The large double porcelain sink in the kitchen caused similar flashbacks probably recalled from old photos of my my mother giving me my first baths in a similar sink.
The reading itself was highly entertaining. Mike set a somewhat quirky dysfunctional family against the wonderful expanse of the Florida wilds. His descriptions of the sounds and assorted fauna were vivid and engaging. You could hear a pin drop in the room as the 20 to 30 people listened intently. Everyone laughed often and gasped in shock when the story took a violent and unexpected turn. I do not want to give away any of Michaels plot, suffice it to say if you spot Michael Hawleys work on your local bookstore shelf, you should pick it up, you will not regret it.
The evening left me feeling joy at having discovered an exciting intimate enclave of culture in the heart of Orlando. Everyone I talked to had an artistic spirit, Summer is herself a poet, Bob Kealing a local news anchor, has written a book on Kerouacs time in Florida and is working on other projects which unearth Central Floridas cultural history.
Happy Valentines Day
All over Orlando these makeshift Valentines Uhaul trucks appeared. While I was doing this sketch a TV news crew came by and interviewed the couple sitting in the back of the truck. Every basket, box and bag was filled with roses, huge plush ducks, bears and other stuffed animals. The red Mylar heart shaped balloons were the hottest selling items. I considered getting something, but I have a tradition of always get my wife a live orchid. I used to get my orchids from a lady that sold them out of the back of her SUV, but this year she was gone. I had to drive all over town searching for a shop that carried orchids.
Friday the 13th
This roadside memorial is located just north of the First Baptist Church on John Young Parkway. Since it is close to the where the Caylee Marie Anthony memorial service was held, I began the sketch believing it must have been set up for her. The Mylar balloons were deflated and roses were dead indicating that this memorial had been set up for some time. While I was working, a large Ford Explorer SUV roared up onto the grass median between me and the tree. The African American woman inside was on her cell phone as she asked if I was sketching. I of course said yes and she related the information to whoever was on the phone. I asked her if she knew who the memorial was for and she shouted out a name which I could not hear over the sound of passing traffic. I had to ask two more times and finally approached her car door to catch the name. I would have asked here more questions but the tail end of her SUV was sticking out into the road and when I glanced over my shoulder I saw a line of cars backed up for a quarter mile. No one honked their horns, but she realized she had better get moving, and she drove off. The memorial is for James Marcus Johnson. I searched for information about him but could only find a short obituary that stated that he died on December 22, 2008 at the age of 22.
Caylee Makeshift Memorial
On the day of Caylee’s memorial service at the First Baptist Church, an alternate memorial was being organized by Leonard Padilla, a California bounty hunter, at the site where Caylee’s remains were found. Padilla was banned from attending the service at the church by Cindy and George Anthony. Padilla had posted bond for Casey Anthony, Caylee’s mother, but later revoked it saying that Casey was not cooperating the the search for her child.
For some reason I felt ill at ease as I approached the site. This huge pile of toys, cards, flowers and signs decorated the area. The woods where Caylee’s body was found were stripped bare and all the refuge was heaved into a compost pile about five feet high. Already a few palmettos were sprouting back up to reclaim the crime scene.
An elementary school is just a half block from where I was sketching. School let out and a large group of about 12 students were walking home on the opposite side of the street. They became curious as to what I was sketching and surrounded me and fired off a barrage of questions. Some of them went up to a board and wrote condolences and thoughts. One of the youngest pointed at my sketch and asked, “Is that Caylee?” Some of the kids wanted to pose for me in front of the toys, but I convinced them that they should get home to there moms. One couple who visited the site informed me that they had driven from Pennsylvania to pay there respects. Several times people getting out of there cars asked me if it was alright to take pictures. It is as if they thought it was my job to guard the site. As one man said, “A picture is worth a thousand words.”
abc News Truck
This is a small taste of the media circus that set up camp outside the First Baptist Church for the Caylee Marie Anthony Memorial Service. The church set up a barricaded parking lot area specifically for all the media. Reporters could use the church as a backdrop for the live reports but all the footage from inside the service was supplied by the churches 2 TV cameras with a live feed outside to the waiting trucks. I have read that an estimated 1,200 people attended the service, but it seemed to me like far fewer showed up, perhaps 2-3 hundred. The inside of the church is truely cavernous however so this might be a false impression.
Caylee Marie Anthony Memorial Service
I attended the Caylee Marie Anthony Memorial Service this morning at The First Baptist Church. Honestly, I decided to go when I heard on the news last night that there would be no video recording, photography or even cell phones allowed into the service. To get in I had to put my sketchbook , pens and brushes in a bin at the metal detectors. The ushers were pleasant and helpful, making everyone feel welcome. Some families bought there small children to the service. The childrens voices could be heard a varying times adding a subtle tone of playful innocence to the proceedings.
I was unprepared for how emotionally overwhelming the actual service was. It pointed to the Orlando communities strength in times of trouble. The feeling of love and compassion was palpable. Toward the end of the service the lights were dimmed and a video was shown called “Gone too Soon“. It was a masterfully edited tribute to Caylee’s short life. There is something sublime in the final shot as Caylee pulls back, and then is shrouded behind, a cloth window shade.
It was also hard not to be moved by the tearful words from George and Cindy Anthony. Cindy Anthony said “Caylee Marie has taught many to love a child they have never met.” “Let’s stop the negativity and speculation.” “Let’s stand up for our right to live in a world filled with hope and faith and love”. George said he wore a lavender shirt because it was Caylee’s favorite color. He also stated, “Do not form any judgments, because I tell you, you don’t want to be in any of our shoes. Casey deserves prayer, she deserves understanding, she deserves love.” The Anthony’s humble words were greeted by a thunderous standing ovation from a respectful crowd.
I hope the service helps the Anthony family and the community heal.
Recorders
Terry invited Roger and Melissa over to play recorders on Sunday. Terry said her focus was off. My focus was off as well. The performers would change the size of the recorder they were playing for each new piece. Sometimes they would even change instruments in the middle of a piece of music. This was frustrating since I would draw the recorder and hands in one position then look up again to find the instrument bigger or smaller than how I drew it. It seems a bit Freudian that Roger is holding a small recorder while the women hold large recorders.
Manatee Display
This Manatee sculpture stood on the porch of the Thursby house. It was roped off to keep tourists from touching it. The surface was covered with thousands of small mosaic tiles. People would press up against the ropes so they could get a picture taken next to the manatee. I overheard one lady telling her guests that as a child she used to swim with the manatees. She said the manatees would swim right up to you and roll over so you could scratch there tummy’s. A few children started to harass the animals so park rangers had to stop letting people swim in the spring waters.