Werther at Sedonie

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Orlando Opera presented Werther, with music by Jules Massenet libretto by Édouard Blau, Paul Milliet, and Georges Hartmann at  Sydonie Mansion (5538 Sydonie Drive Mount Dora, FL 32757).

This mansion is just a short drive from the Lake County Studio. The roads I traveled were the same ones I take each day when I head down to Orlando. The mansion is down a long dirt road and sits on a beautiful lake. It is such an unexpected beautiful surprise off of winding country roads. I am starting to fall in love with traveling these hidden roads.

There was valet parking in the parking lot and yet when I arrived the valets were off duty. A young assistant at the ticket table gave me the lowdown on how the opera would unfold but as we were speaking the music for the opera began. I jogged out back and found the audience seated as the opera unfolded on the large porch of the gorgeous home. The opera is set in the German town of Wetzlar around 1780.

I was only able to sketch the first act because the next act took place inside the home and I spent that time finishing the sketch I had started.

What I did discover is that Werther, Gabriel Preisser, falls desperately in love with Charlotte, Chelsea Laggan, a woman he could never possibly have. Their affection is mutual, but she was set up in an arranged marriage by her parents to an older man named Albert, Thandolwethu Mamba, that she would never love. The opera explores the themes of impossible love, rebellion, and the consequences of convention. I felt heart broken for Werther because societal norms would keep him from his true love.

By the time I was adding color to the sketch the actors and audience had moved inside. There was another staging area on the far side of the hose staged around a beautiful fountain. As I worked all the chairs that were in front of the porch were moved to a gorgeous sloping lawn behind me that overlooked a lake. There was lighting set up so it is possible that the opera might go until the moment the sun set.

I considered sketching the outdoor scene but the setting was so panoramic that I decided I had my sketch for the moment. It was such a beautiful setting and such a heartbreaking story. I decided my heart was full and I left before the final act. I knew that tragedy would follow and I preferred to leave with hope in my heart that love might find a way to endure, but being an opera, I ran from what I assumed would be a tragic finale. I came to experience the beauty of the first act and I was satisfied, with sketch in hand.

Laughs in Spanish

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Mariana, (Marasol Robles), runs an in the Wynwood Arts District in Miami. Art Basel, is a huge week long international art Market, and the stakes are high for her gallery.

When Mariana’s movie-star mother Estella,  Angela Cotto, tries to help out, things get even more complicado. Laughs in Spanish is a fast-paced,  comedy about art and success, and mothers and (lesbian) daughters.

Caro, Mariana’s assistant, (Isabel Bernal) has just graduated with her masters degree in art. The play opens with Maraina discovering that all the art she was going to show at Basel has been stolen. Caro was dating a cop, Juan, Jonathan Gardon. The only option is for Mariana to show Caro’s art at Basel.

The play is largely about forgiveness, family and love. Mariana’s mom Estella,  is larger than life. Her mom became pregnant and had to give up her dreams of one day being a singer. When Estella became pregnant she decided she would never give up on her dreams. She wanted her daughter to know that you can have it all as a mom and a star.

Mariana sacrifice her dreams when she gave up on her art career. She built her career out of selling other artists work. Her love life was on hold until she met a blast from the past, Jenny, Daniella Bloom. Their blossoming romance offered some of the most romantic moments of the play. By the end the play all have found the love they so richly deserve. When the entire cast danced to vibrant salsa music on stage, the audience stood and danced along with a standing ovation. This was a glorious life affirming production.

Portland Trail

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I am searching for a home. One, I called the Umatilla Homestead. I was making plans to turn an   pool into a greenhouse and I wanted to build a col retractable staircase up to the attic which is large enough to house a studio.

Anyway this place was just sold before I made an offer. So I am back to the search. There are several I saw that are habitable, but I want something that sings to me.

Last week Just Jeff started his cross country hike. He will start in Delaware where he will take a quick dip in the Atlantic. He will then hike across America and then jump in the Pacific ocean when he gets to California. The American Discovery Trail is 4,834 miles.  He tends to walk 25 miles a day, so he may be hiking 193 days or 6 to 7 months if he doesn’t stop in communities along the way.

Before he left, he showed me how he packs his bag. I paid close attention to the supplies needed and how to pack them. He used to pack neatly but realized over time that just shoving everything in the pack better utilized the space. I am starting to think that the open trail might be calling my name rather than buying a studio right now. I have camping equipment from my cross country trek way back in the 1980s. The studios I fall in love with seem to sell out from under me before I commit. Maybe it is a sign.

I found am amazing home in Ithica, New York but it is light years from NYC. The chimney if falling apart, but that could be fixed with staples and some ductape. Taxes on that property are over $10,000 a year. Yikes! But it is soooo pretty and built in 1912 so it has tons of character. Once again the place is much bigger than I need at this point in my life. Ithica is supposed to be a community that supports the arts. There are multiple theaters and visual art galleries. It could be a place to reestablish my sketch a day habit starting from scratch. I am searching in all directions for a place to call home.

Animating

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This is a sketch of a Full Sail University student animating. For several years I worked at Full sail in the traditional animation classroom. I mostly got the students up to speed on the computers that shot their work. As student animated, I would sketch. I do not think this traditional animation studio space still exists at Full Sail. We felt it was important for students to understand where the animation principles came from using traditional pencil and paper.

These days I believe students are thrown straight onto the computer and the art of making something come alive by hand is being lost.

The final day of class students had a chance to finish up their animation projects. Instructor, Kathy Blackmore would put on a film and mist students took the time to refine their animation. There are two types of students, those that want to create,and those who want to be entertained. The student in this sketch is a creator. I am drawn to creators, and drawn to life.

Turek Lane Umatilla Florida

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Cheré Carr, my real estate agent arranged for us to see two properties on my list. This property on Turek Lane in Umatilla, Florida has a dock right on a lake. One thing I keep thinking is that it would be nice is a place to launch a kayak.

I had time to do this sketch since Chere was running late. Instead of getting upset, I seized the opportunity to block in a sketch. My pen ran out of ink so I used my brush pen. The brush pen ink bleeds when water color is added. I will replace the ink at some point.

As I was doing this sketch the next door neighbor rode over on his golf cart to see what I was doing. He let me know that the lake has some of the largest bass in central Florida. He tends to catch and release. He has a woodworking workshop and across the street from the place I was looking at he has two goats in a field. They were baaing the whole time I sketched. I thought I heard a shriek of a peacock but he said I must be mistaken.

The landscaping on the property I was looking at was rather barren. There was one lone tree next to the house up front and several small palm trees out back. The front lawn was burnt out. I would want to replace it with a native ground cover. In back I would want to start some raised bed planters to grow vegetables and herbs. I’m sure planters up front would look good as well if tastefully done. What the property needs is a whole lot of lush plants. If course all that would take time. I would also want to replace the shingle roof with a metal roof. The 4 other homes on the dirt road all have metal roofs which can last 70 years.

The dock is rather rickety. The first few boards are rotted through. As I walked out Chere shouted out, “You should leave your sketchbook behind!” I liked her thinking, which was save the sketchbook, and let the artist drown if he wants too. She didn’t dare walk on the rickety dock. Repairing the dock wold be another big project.

There is a small granny shack behind the property. It might be nice as a Air B&B for fishermen. I would seldom use the shack and it would need to be air conditioned to keep out mold. We opened the refrigerator and it was nasty, with tons of black mold. The refrigerator had clearly been unplugged for quite a while. That would have to go.

There is a large sun filled room in the main house that would work great as the studio. Every room smelled of cigarettes. A candle was lit to mask the smell but that didn’t work. Amazingly the place has a root cellar where I could store mason jars full of vegetables and jams.

Surrounding the property is farm land and orange groves. It is an absolute country escape, but my eye is still trained on a bigger homestead not far away.

P.E.A.R. Reserve

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Once back at the Lake County Studio after the surgery, I was not content to sit around and wait to recover. I was in the yard cutting roots from a giant uprooted tree for firewood and in the afternoon I suggested we all go for a hike at P.E.A.R. Reserve (4800 University Blvd, Leesburg, FL).

My sister Pat was visiting from Port Charlotte and Just Jim was camping out on the back patio after coming from Ohio to see a friend’s Masters Thesis presentation. The reserve pretty close the Lake County studio, so me piled into Pat’s car and drove over.

Jim is a hard core hiker, so the trail was easy for him, but Pat started getting winded. We hiked ourselves to a public bench overlooking the river. Pat and Jim sat on the bench and I moved my art stool closer to a haggard tree which resembled an octopus. The river was perfectly still with yellow and orange leaves floating on the surface. At one point Jim noted that the river was moving. I glanced up and sure enough the leaves started flowing to the left. I don’t know why but I thought the river should flow right. It turns out the wind was blowing the leaves making it seem like the rives was flowing for a fraction of a second.

Finding order in the chaos of nature is always a challenge. The twisted tree roots offered a definite focal point. It felt nice to get out in the sun and walk. Pat had to admit that she felt better after the hike. Her legs and hips were not as stiff.

While hiking out, I saw a second scene that I definitely want to return to sketch. It was closer to the water with a massive grouping of roots and the sky reflected a much richer blue off the water’s surface.

Discharge

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I had to spend one day in the hospital to be sure the operation was a success. I woke up hungry.I had not eaten for well over 24 hours. The previous night I vomited any time anyone approached me with food since I had a horrible reaction to the anesthesia. That is how the nurse explained it. In my mind however it might have been the thought that they were offering me hospital food which is notorious for being bad.

On this morning however I ate the scrambled eggs and hash browns like my life depended on it. There were 4 vanilla puddings and I ate them as well. Once done, I waited for the doctor to discharge me. He wanted me to walk the hallways to settle all my scrambled organs. I had to build up what he  called flow. My job for the day was to pee into a container and show the nurse. Once I had urinated enough, I could leave.

When I woke up I was attached to a catheter. That is a plastic tube shoved up my flag pole and urine would leak out the tube into a round plastic bag hanging from the side of the bed. My urine was blood tinged. Not pure thick blood red but watered down resembling strawberry Kool-Aid. I also had on lower leg wraps which were heated and they vibrated massaging my legs. I really liked those, and was sad to leave then behind. As I was waiting much later in the day, I put them back on just because I liked the sensation.

I walked the hallway while holding my IV bag full of bloody urine. The back of the bag was opaque, so I turned that side outward so as not to shock the other patients in their rooms. There was a score board to count laps and I think I did about 15 laps around the ward. I just wanted to be sure I was winning on the score board. I was a man with a mission. The catheter was taped to my let so that there wasn’t too much tension pulling on my James Dean as I walked. I kept my hand on that tape as I walked to be sure it stayed in place.

The doctor came in to remove the catheter. I dreaded the process. He approached my business nonchalantly with scissors. I shut my eyelids hard as he snipped a bulb off a plastic tube. Then with one quick yank he pulled the tube out of me. It is like ripping off a band aid. the faster you do it the less time you have to react in horror. I was also removed from the IVs at 6am. I was now free to move about. It was strange not being concerned with tubes hanging out of me.

I drank bottle after bottle of water but only an agonizing blood red dribble leaked out of me in the bathroom. Maybe the escape tunnel had collapsed. My sister Pat called and she was on her way to the hospital to pick me up. I let her know it could be some time, but she insisted. I drank many more bottles of water, while she and I chatted on the couch. It seemed any time the nurse came to check on me I was in the bathroom. Pat relayed the messages. Finally I started peeing like a race horse. The burning was still there but less so. By the time the doctor approved my discharge, the sun was about to set.

Pat drove back to Lake Coounty with Just Jim navigating. I lay in the back seat. I managed to last the whole drive back without having to take a pit stop. That in itself was a miracle. Back at the studio, I discovered that someone had stolen my iPhone charger from the hotel room. The charger was held together with black electrical tape so it wasn’t a great loss. Amazingly my wallet was untouched. Pt found me a new charger the next day at Dollar General.

My sister Pat was staying at the studio for a few days to be sure nothing went south.

PRE-Op

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My urethra was being choked off by my prostate. Because of this I would have to pee every half hour or so and could not sleep through the night. Worst, I couldn’t sit through and complete a sketch. It became unbearable. The prostate produces the fluids for male ejaculations. I decided to get an operation that would remove the inner prostate. I would no longer be able to have children but I would recover some normalcy to my life.

KC Cali volunteered to be my Health Care Surrogate for the operation. She had been through several harrowing hospital experiences with her husband Bob Szafranski, so she had experience with doctors and the hospital system. Having her join me was the smartest thing I did going into surgery. My sister Pat Thorspecken-Napolitano drove up from Port Charlotte to drive me to the hospital and back. Just Jeff who was in Lake County from Ohio to see a friend’s UCF Masters Thesis Presentation joined us to help Pat drive back to Lake County. He was a huge help. KC was driving from a different direction and we met her in front of the hospital.

Security and reception were fairly simple and then we went to the second floor. There I was separated from my Health Care Surrogate. The whole point of having KC there was to have a second set of eyes and ears going into the process. Before I signed away my life on the three long forms, I took pictures of those forms and sent them to KC to see if she had second thoughts. Once you read that Death might be one of the side effects, you start to have second thoughts. Once those forms were filled out and collected, KC could come back to my Pre-Op cubicle.

First thing I had to do was get dressed in the hospital garb, which included a gown which was incredibly complicated with snaps and belts. It might have actually been a straight jacket. There were knee high garters I had to wear that were insanely tight. They were to protect against blood clots during the operation. KC had to explain how to put them on by rolling them up like women’s stockings. After that she disappeared behind the curtain for the sake of my privacy. Socks had rubber strips on then to avoid slipping in the hallways. Lying on the gurney helped hide the fact that my butt cheeks wanted to escape the open flaps out back.

A barrage of tests followed, blood pressure tests, a heart rate monitor on the tip of my finger and a hook up for an IV. KC had the genius idea that I should ask for the IV on my left hand so my right hand remained free to sketch. Once snuggled under the blanket on the gurney, I started sketch as did KC. It turns out my new fountain pen bleeds when water color washes were added to the sketch. I had to live with it. My other fountain pen was out of ink.

Then doctor Amin who was performing the operation, nurses, the anesthetist, and  a barrage of other techs each came in one at a time to ask questions. As my nervousness rose, KC kept me amused and entertained with her stories and my sketching calmed me down. Soon I was given a mild sedative. I was told that I might not remember anything that happened. KC was the last person I saw as I was drifting off. I said, “Who are you?” She smiled and I was out immediately. When I opened my eyes, KC was there in a differed Post Op area. I was slurring my words but the pain was minimal.

Yalaha Bakery

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By Thomas Thorspecken

I started seeking out landmarks from around Lake County to sketch. The Yalaha Bakery is Yalaha’s only tourist attraction.

Traffic on 48, the road the bakery is on, is intense but I got used to it during the sketch. A friend told me that during bike week this place gets insanely packed with motor cycles. I plan to return to do a series of sketches on that week. I have been inside the bakery twice now. The first time I had strudel which is delicious and the second time I had a coconut delight and it was life changing. It takes every ounce of will power to keep me from returning to the bakery again and again to experience that taste sensation once again. I just told my sister Pat that if I am in extreme pain after my surgery today, she should get a Coconut delight and I am certain that any pain will disappear.

Today I can not have breakfast and bloody hell I desperately want to make a scrambled egg with butter slathered on a toasted Thomas’s muffin. Maybe I shouldn’t write about it since it seems to be making me more hungry. I’ll go have a cup of water that should hold me until I am put under anesthesia. Anyway today waiting for surgery should be a good sketching experience. I have a mini sketch kit in my day bag. I will be in the hospital overnight so that must be a sketch opportunity. I heard nurses come in every half hour to draw blood or get blood pressure so that could be many quick sketch opportunities.

The Cathedral Comes Down

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By Thomas Thorspecken

On February 25, 2025, Stella P. Arbelaéz Tacón asked me to help her dismantle and pack away The Cathedral into a U-Haul. I got up at 5am for an early morning drive down to the UCF Gallery. It was a glorious drive with literally no traffic until I got close to Orlando. Stella had to pick up the U-Haul truck and there was some type of complication. I was thankful, since it gave me time to sketch the installation piece.

While sketching, a flock of herons few overhead. They made an amazing honking racket. They glided down to a grass field beside The Cathedral. Once on the ground they continued honking. Something about the herons flying overhead was truly beautiful. The piece is meant to allow the viewer to experience the enormity of the natural world, while bringing forth a profound awareness that we are a small part of a large but delicate ecosystem.  As the artist said, “The Cathedral offered deeper appreciation of life by prompting reflection on the fleeting nature of human existence, contrasted against the timeless and majestic presence of the environment that surround us.” I felt all of that as the herons flew overhead on the cool, misty, and otherwise quiet morning.

Slowly the parking lots filled with cars and the art students filed into the building. A grounds keeper fired up a loud edger and the herons flew off. The noise and clutter of humanity began to encroach. The Cathedral felt so much larger on that peaceful morning. The last time I had sketched it was at night and it blended into the dark night sky. Here its bold silhouette was predominant against the sky which turned from a dark grey to pure light.

I tried pulling up some stakes before Stella arrived but, like King Arthur’s sword, they were stubbornly impossible to extract. I decided there must be a tool needed to do the job. Many bamboo stalks were tied to the metal ring with natural string. I tried untying one with my fingernails but the knots just got tighter.  Bolts refused to budge as I tried to loosen them with my fingers. This sculpture wanted to remain standing. When Stella arrived she had a tool box with all the tools we would need. I snipped the strings with a wire cutter but better yet, she had an Exacto Blade which made the job simple. One by one the bamboo poles were walked over to a spot in the grass where she would later park the U-Haul.

With few poles left the metal ring became unstable and she had to hold it up by balancing it on her shoulders. She looked like Atlas holding up the world. When the final bold let loose the ring was gently lowered to the ground by both of us. It then rolled a short bit, and fell to the grass. It too needed to be disassembled into two strips of metal. I asked about the price of The Cathedral but Stella told me it is not for sale. It would make a magnificent centerpiece to a homestead garden.

The shortest bamboo poles were the first to be loaded on to the truck . The larger poles would have to be loaded corner to corner and they barely fit. One pole in particular had to be repositioned multiple times before the trucks back gate could be lowered. A student approached to ask the artist a question since she is a teaching assistant in a drawing class. A professor also approached to ask a question.  The artist seemed quite at home in the university setting. She has so many opportunities in the hopper as the Masters Program winds down for her. Only time will tell which way her path might turn. Of one thing I am sure, she will get her masters degree, which was well earned.