Traditional Irish Music Session

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Every other Wednesday, Vicki Gish and Scott Vocca host a Traditional Irish Music Session at Claddagh Cottage Irish Pub (4308 Curry Ford Rd) starting at 7:30pm till whenever. Vicki and Scott are from the band “Crooked Road” and I had recently seen them perform at the Mennello Museum Folk Festival. The bar is a real hole in the wall with dark oak booths, tables and chairs. There is a sign near one table that says, “Reserved for Musicians.” The electric piano was set up and there was an accordion a fiddle and some bows on the tables. A few patrons were eating dinner but everywhere there were tall glasses of dark Guinness.

Natalie Doyle the groups pianist offered me a pint to sip as I sketched. I couldn’t refuse. She explained that the accordion player was Gerry Hanley from Galway, Ireland. She explained that he had given up playing for a while but now he was back into the swing of things. Kathleen Cavanagh on pipes entered a little late and she let everyone know that she had Girl Scout cookies back in her car if anyone was interested. Soon the magical traditional Irish music filled the bar. The musicians closed their eyes as in a reverie and swayed to the beat. The two women having dinner beside me were ecstatic. They had wandered into this hidden gem by chance.

An Irish Session is a gathering of musicians playing traditional Irish music (occasionally including other Celtic genres such as Scottish, Brittany, Cape Breton, and French Canadian) on traditional Irish instruments. Traditional Irish music is made up of dance tunes such as reels, jigs, hornpipes, slides, and a few other miscellaneous forms including polkas, set dances, airs and songs. It is not so much a performance but a sharing of traditional tunes among the musicians and those who care to listen. The instruments might include fiddle, flute, accordion, uilleann pipe, concertina, tenor banjo, whistle (a.k.a. penny whistle, tin whistle), mandolin, bodhrán, guitar, and sometimes piano. An Irish Session is not a “jam session”.

An Irish elder gentleman named Shawn wanted to meet Gerry from Galway. They shook hands and told tales of the homeland for a bit. Then Shawn sat down and began to sing a traditional Irish ballad solo. Scott shushed the room trying to silence the loud talkers at the end of the bar. Then everyone joined in on the chorus singing, “I met her in the garden where the praties grow.” With his second song, I sang along, “Come down from the mountain Katie Daly.” I’m Irish on my mothers side and warmed by the beer and music, I glowed. A woman dropped off a small Teddy bear holding a heart beside the old gentleman singing. When he was finished singing, someone explained, “You have a secret admirer.” The sketch ebbed and flowed with the music taking form almost on it’s own without any second guessing from me. After I drained my Guinness and finished the sketch, I had to go. I needed to start fresh on a new job in the morning. I shouted good night to Natalie and Vicki who stood and shook my hand. I owe these amazing musicians a beer, but I know I’ll be back. If you haven’t been to one of these sessions, you have to go.

Night of Fire

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Crealde held an event called “Night of Fire” at the school campus (600 St. Andrews Blvd. in Winter Park). Tiki torches lined either side of the long gravel path leading back to the school. I wandered around trying to decide what I should sketch. There was a huge kiln about 8 feet tall that filled a shed. It was burning hot but there was little activity around it. I then found this little garbage can kiln in action. The garbage can glowed red hot, sitting on top of fire bricks. The flame was fed by a propane gas tank. This is referred to as Raku firing.

Lynn Warnicke would remove a properly heated ceramic pot with long metal tongs and place it in a garbage can with newspapers. The newspapers would smolder and then burn. I was blinded quite a few times by the smoke, finding myself downwind of the cans. A garbage can lid would be lifted and then the tongs would be used again to drop the pot in a vat of water to cool down. The finished and glazed pots would then be lifted by hand and placed on a bench where they were all lined up.

There was a constant flurry of activity and I was never certain if I was catching the right moment. I learned about the process as I sketched and now that I better understand it, I would probably get a better second sketch. There was no time for a second sketch. I walked around searching for Terry. There was a cool sculpture behind the school, lake side, that shot up a blue flame into a tall glass tube. There had been a bronze pour but it was finished before I got there to sketch. A story teller waved her arms as she spoke to enchanted children and parents.

Inside the school, Ken Austin was demonstrating his watercolor techniques and Megan Boye was in the print department showing people the process. There were prints and paper hanging and lying everywhere. It was an amazing event. I probably cold have learned a thing or two had I lingered.

Orlando Improv Festival

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On February 6th & 7th, Mark Bartelli of the Daily City hosted the Orlando Improv Festival at Urban Rethink as part of Arts Fest. When I arrived, Mark used a bright red sharpie to write “sketch artist” on my name tag. I was rolling with the big boys now, an official sketch artist. This was a smaller, more intimate Festival than last year but Mark still had a plethora of posters.

I set up my artist stool next to a speaker and started blocking in the space. I was sitting next to a college student with a camera around his neck. He had “Press” written on his name tag. He confided that this was his first time using the camera. My inflated ego shrank. The two young women seated in front of me were from the same school. The woman in the stripped shirt asked several audience members questions. “So, what do you hope to gain from tonight’s performance?” “Well Missy, I hope to laugh!”

The evening consisted of long form Improv. The audience would supply a few cues and the performers would keep the Improv going for the duration of an hour. The first group, Offsides Improv is the one I sketched on stage. The performance centered around the strained relationship a couple had developed with someone they had kidnapped. For the longest time we were left to assume this was a typical insular family. The audience was packed full. Mark actually had to squeeze a few more chairs on the sidelines to fit in late comers.

Once the first improv group was finished, the room had to be cleared so people could pay to see the next group. I believe there were five performances each night. The second comedy troupe was “Nobody’s Sweetheart.” This was a notable performance since Peter Murphy had returned to Orlando from LA to be in the show. Peter played the part of a corporate executive speaking with lazy employees. He kept the action lively and his irony brought plenty of laughs. After two hours of Improv, my sketch was finished. I decided to head out to the street with the second audience and head home.

Lace Makers

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Terry and I returned to the Mennello Museum of American Art for the second day of the Folk Festival. Our first order of business was to go in the museum since admission was free for the day. On display was “Style & Grace, which was a magnificent collection of paintings from the Michael & Marilyn Mennello collection. There was a large golden statue of Marilyn in a gorgeous long flowing dress in the room to the left of the entry. I felt a bit sad since she had passed away, yet this sculpture was beautiful as was all the art she collected. There were so many paintings from artists whose work I love and respect. There was a whole wall full of John Sloan landscape paintings and a Robert Henri portrait right in the entry. Robert Henri was a fantastic teacher as well as a painter. I studied his color theories in detail and he is still teaching me today.

On display in the gallery to the right of the reception desk was, William H. Johnson: An American Modern on loan from the Smithsonian Institution. Arranged chronologically, the paintings begin when he was a student in France as he experimented in different styles. His later work, started in Harlem, New York, showed his hard edged maturity. As Terry and I walked around, I pointed out how some of the paintings focused on important details in certain spots while letting bold brushwork fill the remaining canvas. This is something I’m just beginning to learn with my sketches. A lesson learned over hundreds and hundreds of sketches. She let me know that it is this kind of insight into the process that she appreciated me sharing. I need to learn to share my thoughts verbally more often.

Before going to the Mennello, I brought Terry to Avalon for a couples Valentine Tarot Card reading. My aura was bright yellow with a candle flame flickering. Terry’s aura was filled with presidential figures. Between us stood a totem pole. Two column of Tarot cards were dealt out with one card between at the top. Terry picked the column of cards closest to her. She was blown away by her reading. Things said about her mother were spot on. My column had the death card in the mix. That implied change is coming my way. The common card between us was a heart pierced by three swords.

In college, I copied a painting of a Lacemaker by Vermeer in the first painting class I took as a freshman. Perhaps for this reason I decided to sketch Peggy and Anne as they clicked their small wooden bobbins, creating intricate lace patterns. A small lace pattern was started on a red pillow on a card table and occasionally Peggy would coach someone on the intricacies of the craft. A young Spanish man sat down and tried his hand at the Mundillo process, Peggy coached him calmly. She said, “I’ve been doing this longer than you have been on this Earth.” When she saw my sketch she said, “I’ve never been sketched before doing what I love to do.”

Crooked Road

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At the Mennello Museum Folk Festival music stage, Crooked Road played its blend of Celtic folk music. Natalie Doyle was on piano, Kathleen Cavanagh on pipes, Vicki Gish on fiddle and Scott Vocca on banjo. A slender wisp of a girl did Irish dances to the music, kicking her feet up with her arms straight at her sides. Mothers and their children played in the grass. It was a cool and very windy day. The large mobile sculpture in bright reds, yellow and blue moved slightly in the breeze. Children clamored up on Its cement base and tried to crawl through the hole in a blue shaped pyramid. One of the artists tents started to take flight and people rushed in to help keep it grounded. As I walked past the artist was ripping off the tent panels until only the skeletal structure remained.

When the band finished playing, Kathleen told me that I had to add the bands new byline, “We prevent murders.” Vicki explained. A woman had gone to their concert and she had been having a really bad day. She approached the band after and said, “I was ready to murder someone, but after listening to your music, I feel great!”

Kids Day at the Folk Festival

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The Mennello Museum Folk Festival was three days this year. The first day on Friday was set aside just for kids. I arrived in the early afternoon to see what was going on. The place was quiet with a small encampment of white tents set up under the overcast sky. I decided to lean against a flag pole to do a sketch. Dawn Schreiner and her husband, Eric, arrived to set up her tent. Dawn did the poster for this year’s festival with a nice painting of Earl Cunningham whose folk paintings comprise the main focus of the museum’s permanent collection. I always look forward to seeing Dawn’s colorful and whimsical work.

Genevieve Bernard pulled up in her VW Bug and she explained to me that there were about 50 school children running all around that morning. Ibex puppetry was there with puppets from “Panther and the Crane.” Frank Holt, the museum director, pointed out that there was a new puppet of a manatee. These puppets were life sized and a few children were scared, but when they were allowed to touch the puppets they were OK. There were crafts activities using recycled cardboard. Kids could paint a Valentine heart or lace a cardboard disk with an intricate pattern of yarn.

Unfortunately my mural was hidden by go carts, cars and mobile storage units. Very few people attending the festival would ever know it was there. Regardless, I made my way through the maze of machinery and signed the mural with a sharpie above the list of school children and parents who had helped. It rained lightly when I began the sketch but never hard enough to force me to run for cover. Then the sun came out and I sweated and baked since I hadn’t thought about shade. When the line work was done, I walked about ten feet back under the shade of a live Oak tree. I’m looking forward to seeing “Style & Grace”. These paintings are from the private collection of Michael & Marilyn Mennello. I saw them when I visited his home and they are from some of my favorite “Ash Can” artists, like John Sloan, Robert Henri and George Bellows.

Valentines

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On Valentines Day, I had to work in the evening from 6pm to 1am at Full Sail. That late night shift meant I wouldn’t be able to take Terry out to Dinner. I also needed to figure out a daytime event to sketch. I looked in the Arts Fest booklet and the only event I could find was an exhibit at the Holocaust Museum in Maitland. Somehow, sketching at a Holocaust Museum on Valentines didn’t work for me. I decided at the last minute to call Terry at work and ask her if she would like to meet for an early dinner at 3pm. She met me at the Grand Bohemian.

The Grand Bohemian main dining room was being decked out with red table cloths and linens for the evening’s festivities. We were offered a table in the bar area. Terry had accepted the fact that I had to work late and didn’t expect any special Valentines treat. When I called, she realized she did appreciate the chance to spend time together. The orders took a long time to come out but we relaxed in the midst of a busy work day. Terry was hungry and her order came out first. We shared her dish of eggs and ham on a thick slab of toast until my chicken dish came out. The waitress put on an extra piece of chicken to make up for the wait. My dish was delicious with a sweet caramelized glaze and plump potatoes with greens.

A woman at the bar was showing off a new line of flavored vodkas to the bar maid. As we finished our meal, the bar began to fill. Several of Terry’s co-workers sat at another table and ordered drinks. Late afternoon employees in business suits drifted in from work. The sun light sweeping in through the windows got warmer as the sun set. I kissed Terry goodbye and she marched back to her office in high heels, a bright red blouse and a vibrant black and white stripped skirt that looked like it just came off a model’s runway.

I trudged back to my truck to head off to work. I had an hour to kill so I stopped into Avalon Gallery to look at a group show of watercolors from members of the Central Florida Watercolor Society. I brushed past work that was too pedantic and sweet but I did find some inspiring work. I studied a rough landscape by Ken Austen, and I really liked a painting called “American Craftsman” of an old Orlando home. I learned a thing or two from the paintings on display, leaving me itching to splash some color around. Jeffery Shonkwiler, the gallery director, was seated with Donna Dowless in the cushy gallery seats. Donna is Orlando’s ambassador of love. Much of her work incorporates a heart shape. As I left, Donna said to me, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I replied, “It sure is!” Walking towards Lake Eole I realized it truly was a gorgeous day.

Walking around Lake Eola, I stopped at the swan boat dock and realized, that I had to sketch. The light was golden. Couples walked out on the dock in a constant stream. No one used the black mini Venetian Gondolas. As soon as a swan boat returned to dock it would fill with another loving couple looking for adventure. A black and white swan swam near where I was sketching. A couple was shooting photos. The boyfriend suggested to his girlfriend that she get a shot where the swans necks formed a heart shape. She waited behind the lens for that magic moment. The white swan reared up in the water flapping its wings. It honked loudly and then lunged forward at the black swan, snapping it’s beak. The swans weren’t lovers, they were two males competing for territory.

Charles Eisenstein on Sacred Economics

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Charles Eisenstein, the author of Sacred Economics, gave a talk at the Timucua White House. Harlan Wallner got on stage to introduce Charles. He stood there for a long while beaming. He said he had planned a long time on how he might introduce Charles but instead he just wanted to smile. He said, we were in for an enlightenment.

Charles stood at the very edge of the stage his toes reaching towards the audience. He began by saying, “This is the first talk I have given at the White House.” Which broke the ice with laughter. Behind him two spot lights created a heart shaped pool of light on the painting in the corner. I began by sketching that pool of light.

He outlined how our society today is surrounded by product, not true nourishment. Most people feel that community is missing from our lives. Money tends to block us from the natural expression of our gifts. Community is something that is woven from gift relationships. In ancient societies, wealth was a matter of how much you shared. If a hunter brought down a large catch, he couldn’t eat it all himself before it spoiled. He would share the catch with the community. Today, financial independence means you don’t need others. The dissolution of community to a shallow consumer society relates as well to the high number of divorces today. Community comes from creatively producing together.

Existence is a matter of giving. Our default state is gratitude. The world is a web of gifts. Growing up we accepted the gifts of our parents. When we are older we seek to give those gifts in return. Joint consumption doesn’t create intimacy. Only joint creativity and gifts create intimacy. Anything we do has significance. Perhaps our society doesn’t place a high monetary value on someone sitting with a person in hospice. But a shared moment of forgiveness at the end of life has an immense value. How will that change the world?

Look for gifts in the unspoken. Bow in service to what you need to create. You have to be in service of something. Everyone wants to live a life of meaning. Something wants to be born, to be created. It’s light will bring up pain. You might think, “It’s impossible” or “I’ll be left behind.” Pay attention to that pain, give it space, then move past it. The logic of the heart wants to be of service. Love is the felt experience of connection to another human being. An economist feels, more for you is less for me. But a person in love knows that more for you is more for me as well. If you love someone, then their happiness is your happiness. Your sense of self expands to include others. That is a different kind of revolution. We want to create a more beautiful world our hearts tell us is possible. A sacred world. A world that works for everybody. A world of peace. “You can’t evict an idea whose time has come.”

After the talk, I spoke with Dina Peterson who had recently lost her job and is considering moving to Indiana. Regardless, she wanted to buy one of my calendars. I was touched. I realized I only had a single dollar bill in my wallet. Rather than take the money, I suggested she “gift” the money to Charles. I felt good knowing I had made a contribution. When she came back, she said she felt rich being able to give the extra cash to the speaker. This was our shared experience in Sacred Economics for the evening.

Yoga Matrix

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Terry planned to go to a yoga class with Sarah Austin. Sarah was running late so Terry didn’t take the class. It was an oven in the place and she decided that she would rather go home and relax. Terry and I used to go to yoga together several years ago. At dinner, Terry asked if I would like to go to yoga again with her. I agreed.

Yoga Matrix (7601 Della Dr. Suite # 5 at Dr. Phillips Marketplace) is right in our neighborhood. We went to a Saturday morning Hatha Yoga class being taught by Edely. We entered the studio through a back door. People were crowded into the small office. More people arrived and crowded in. A Yoga class was winding down and they were in a quiet meditative state so we all remained silent. When the prior class let out, we shuffled in. There was square shelving for our shoes and socks just like in kindergarten. The room is kept at a comfortable 76 degrees.

Terry and I ended up placing our bright pink mats right in front of Edely who faced the full room of participants. Edely has an adorable accent that made me feel I was practicing some exotic ritual. “Yoga is about undoing, shacked out your legs until they are relaxed.” When we went from downward facing dog to a position where we sat back on our heels and leaned forward with our forehead on the mat and our hands spread above our head, my head started to swim. I was dizzy. I shook off the sensation as we went into warrior poses. Warrior poses involved keeping our arms extended as we reached towards opposite walls. In grade school, I remember this being a form of punishment as the teacher asked us to keep our hands extended until it hurt. My aching neck muscles tensed.

My favorite part of yoga is when we lie down and relax at the end. Edely asked us to imagine a point of bright white light inside our skull. All my muscles were “relaxed”. Calming music filled the room. Someones breathing deepened sounding like they were asleep. For the rest of the day, my shoulders and neck ached. I still don’t know if this is a good or bad sign.

The Human Library

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The Human Library at Urban Rethink was brought to Orlando by Tisse Mallon. She asked 30 or so individuals to act as “Human Books.” I was asked as well, so I packed a few sketchbooks in my bag and headed down to Urban ReThink. The Human Library is part of Arts Fest and therefore free to the public. When I arrived, Tisse gave me a Library Card which I had to fill out with my name, the title of my “book” and a brief description. The sketchbooks I brought along were filled with “incidents”, which are cases where I was asked to leave an event because sketching was considered inappropriate. The library card was then placed on a board for people to “check out”.

I wandered upstairs to start my sketch. A video was being shot of someone relating their story and I slipped quietly by. Seats in Urban ReThink were arranged in pairs with a number labeling each discussion space. I was told to prepare a 20 minute “book” so I knew about how long I had to sketch each person. Some “human books” talked for much longer than 20 minutes. A reader expecting a short story might find they were offered an epic.

Myk Freitag was the first person to check me out. We sat upstairs and I related my stories about Anarchists at Lake Eola, getting kicked out of the Holy Land and Needless Markup. I should have timed myself because I felt like I rushed certain story points. I’m not a person to stretch out a story. Regardless, he seemed pleased enough. With my stories told, I returned to my sketch. One fellow had a whole photo album and was wearing a sports uniform. His story lasted a long time. Tr3 Harris was relating a story that involved a knife. He handed the knife to his reader and she admired its length. I really wanted to learn more about his story.

Dance choreographer Linda Eve Elchak arrived and she cleared an area on the carpet. A beautiful dancer began to interact with Eve. Their bodies stayed connected as they moved gracefully. The dancer leaned back and Linda shouted, “I got you!” The movements were improvised and required trust. My sketch was done and I decided this was the human book I would have to check out. Linda’s library card read… Communication Without Words, using improvisational dance to communicate. Linda and I sat Indian style facing each other. She told me to place my palms against hers. She knows I’m an artist and she suggested I close my eyes to heighten my other senses. She had a blind fold but we didn’t use it.

She moved her hands and I followed. Her hands moved in fluid quick arcs and she always offered enough pressure so I could follow her lead. She told me to lead and my hands moved but with a stuttered deliberateness. She asked me to loosen up and feel the flow. My hands started moving rhythmically, fast then slow, a jazz improvisation of motion. She shouted, “Now your speaking to me!” The next conversation happened as we sat back to back. She asked me to follow as she rocked on her hips. Then I lead the “conversation” rocking gently at first and then the motions build in a spiraling motion upward. From the seated position we rose sometimes just arms touching as the action and widening arcs guided us up. It was thrilling!

I checked out Ryan Price who spoke to me about Open Innovation. Netflix offered a one million dollar prize to anyone who could improve the types of movie suggestions offered by 10%. Coders from around the world collaborated to solve the problem. In the end Netflix got more than it bargained for. The results were raised by more than 10%. Ryan is helping organize a Drupal Camp where participants hack for a cause. Hack is another way of saying modifying code. Not all hacking is evil.

After this book, I relaxed in the conference room for a bit. I had been checked out 5 times that day. There were snacks for the books, so I grabbed a few cookies. At 6pm I went to meet Terry at the Abbey to watch the Superbowl. Walking over, I bumped into Brian Feldman who is leaving town soon. He spoke about a paper and ink book he wants to see created called “Digital Feldman Analog Thorspecken.” He was on his way over to the Human Library. I told him the books were just lounging around and he should check a few out. The Human Library is happening again on February 19th from 11am to 7pm. Stop in, check it out and learn from our community’s limitless potential.