When I arrived in Honesdale. Pennsylvania, my younger sister, Carol, texted me directions until I arrived at my mother’s home. Carol and her two children, Kristin and Anna, had been waiting all day for my arrival. They all had cabin fever. Since it took me much longer than expected to get up north, we all immediately piled into Carol’s SUV and headed to the Honesdale Hospital where Ruth was in the intensive care recovery ward. I went up first while Carol watched her kids in the waiting area downstairs.
Ruth was surprised to see me, and I was shocked to see how frail she looked. Her spirits were down, so we weren’t demonstratively affectionate. We spoke for some time about her health and then I told her about life in Orlando. She has never seen my blog. She has never even owned a computer. Her health had deteriorated since the last time I saw her several years ago. Her breast cancer had spread and she had undergone intensive chemo therapy to try and stop the spread of the disease. Most family members feel that the chemotherapy was the cause of so many of her new symptoms. Ruth’s Oncologist, Dr. Scholi, seemed to feel that Ruth was something of a miracle in that she should have died three years ago, but she responded so well to the chemotherapy at the time that she got three more years of quality living. The doctor said, “Her present condition is the result of the combination of her cancer, her age, and the chemotherapy. It’s all caught up to her and has taken a pretty heavy toll.” On the afternoon of my second visit, a doctor came in and told my stepmom that she was being discharged from the hospital. Her next stop would be Ellen Memorial Health Care Center.
FRESH – Creation
Much of FRESH is all about the process of creating art. In this sketch, Christie Miga is on her knees as she creates a drip painting during the event. All of the paints are diluted just the right amount so they can flow and blend into each other freely. At times Cristie used gravity to let the paint flow and other times she would lay the painting flat and blow the paint into areas of the canvas where she wanted it to spread. She had the painting done within an hour and at the end of the night it was auctioned off. I had to work extra fast to catch Christie since she was in constant motion. The FRESH performance space also had other areas where guests could play and interact. For instance there was a small Zen dirt garden where people could rake the dirt and arrange delicate stones and sticks in any way they likes. I created a big Z and then with some twine wrote orro so the garden had the mark of Zorro. I have a pet Cockatoo named Zorro so I leave his mark whenever I can.
Besides the drip painting, we all helped create a mural each night by using an overhead projector hung from the ceiling. I was asked to make a hand shadow puppet and then Evan Miga traced the shadow I made onto the large sheets of white paper hung on the wall. He asked me to finish it up, so I added an eye and other details to bring it to life.
After each evening’s performance, the real fun would start. The music would build and then all the dancers would come out and dance. I joined them every night and it was always fun. Once in a while we could get an audience member out on the dance floor and then things really got large. It turns out Evan is quite a dancing fool and on occasion he would jump up on the dirt mound and play king of the mountain while dancing. On the final night, Evan pulled Jessica Mariko, the troupe’s founder and choreographer, up onto the mound and they had a blast while everyone else clapped. Being on the floor and sketching every night I was no longer just reporting on the event, I was a part of the event itself. This was a creative and inspiring environment and it is a shame it is only in town around Valentine’s Day. Every day should be Valentine’s day.
Physical Therapy
When I got an e-mail from my sister, Juanita, saying that my stepmothers cancer had gotten to the point where she could no longer walk, I immediately decided I would have to take a trip to Honesdale, Pennsylvania to see for myself how Ruth was doing. I jumped in my truck and started driving north. I thought I could do the drive in one day, but with construction and traffic, it took me two days. The drive itself was an emotional roller coaster. When I first started driving over rolling hills, I felt exhilaration. One song played on the radio again and again, “Against the Wind.” This song ran through my head many years ago when I rode a bicycle across the country. Then, I felt like the wind was always literally blowing against me as I struggled to climb rolling mountains. Now, I was older, once again wandering the open roads of a cold indifferent world. Snow started to appear on the roadside.
The first day’s drive brought me as far north as Virginia. Exhausted, I spent the night at a Holiday Inn. When I resumed the drive the next morning, I was driving past vast fields blanketed in snow. At times, I felt small. At other times, expansive and elated. The radio played, “I say miracles just happen, silent prayers get answered.” I felt hope and peace for once, surrendering and accepting what I was driving to face. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of dark tree trunks rising up out of the pure white snow. The radio blared, “Live like we’re dying!” I vowed not to waste a minute of the time I spent in Honesdale Pennsylvania. I would be visiting family I hadn’t seen in years. I had been out of touch with my stepmom for years. I planned to change that.
My little sister, Carol, guided me the final miles with a series of text messages. As soon as I arrived, at my step mothers house, we headed down to the hospital to see Ruth. Carol had her two daughters, Kristin and Anna, and hospital rules forbid them to go upstairs. I agreed to watch my nieces while Carol visited and then we traded off. I found Ruth in the physical therapy room. A young tan nurse’s aid had Ruth lift a two pound weight over her head for three repetitions of twelve. My stepmom has always been resistant to the idea of being sketched, so I started just drawing all the other patients working out. Some would squeeze medicine balls between their legs, while others would pedal a stationary bike set up for wheelchair patients. My stepmom did good with all her arm exercises, but when she was asked to stand, she collapsed. Chemotherapy had sapped all her energy. She was tired of being treated like a child and when we got back to her room, I joked with her about the experience in the cynical way that she was used to. It was good to see her laugh.
Nude Nite – Body Paint
My second trip to Nude Nite, I decided I wanted to sketch the body painters at work. A large crowd of photographers and lookers stood around them creating a phalanx that I marched around seeking an opening where I could stand and draw. I finally decided to push closer and sit on my portable stool. Some people still stood in front of me, but many ducked out of the way just as they would for a photographer. As I worked, several burlesque dancers sashayed in front of me and started vouguing in front of the bar suddenly I was surrounded by a locust swarm of photographers. My line of sight to the body painters was lost so I started drawing the posters on the wall. I knew the posturing for the cameras would be short lived and sure enough the crowd of photographers soon melted back into the crowd.
This evening I bumped into KC and Bob. They were standing a short distance from the two nude sketches KC had on exhibit. A young couple was discussing her work and KC desperately wanted to know what they were saying. I pushed up as close as I could to the couple to try and listen in. KC pushed up beside me. With all the ambient noise I could still not pick out what they were saying. KC finally said, “Should I talk to them?” I said,”Of course.” Then, as they started discussing art, I wandered off to do another sketch.
I am sitting in the Himalayan Institute in Honesdale, PA for a second morning drinking a Serious Blend Latte and using the only free wifi in town to write this post. A costumer walks in and starts a conversation with the proprietor. He said,”My biggest self defeat is taking myself to seriously. I can never meet my own expectations.” Billy Holiday is softly singing, “God Bless the Child who’s got his own.”
FRESH-The Coffee Mound
Rather than staying with my exhibit of sketchbooks at FRESH, I returned again and again to the main show space to sketch the performers. In this performance, TinTin danced on the mound becoming more and more a part of the earth. He then dug into the earth, essentially resurrecting his dancing partner, Ashley Kroft. She gracefully rose up, spreading her arms towards the sky. Their dance then became an erotically charged dance of embraces, painful separations and joyful reunions. They both embrace the earth, and share it with each other. They rub the coffee scented earth into each other’s skin. It would be awesome if Starbucks would embrace this celebration of coffee by bringing this dance to the center of its coffee shops. I am certain they would sell more coffee.
I am writing this post from the Himalayan Institute in Honesdale, Pennsylvania. Gentle new age music is playing as I enjoy my morning coffee. The music perfectly brings back impressions and feelings I had while watching the FRESH performance. I feel at peace although I am here, to do one last portrait of my stepmother who is losing her battle with cancer. I visited her yesterday and she is a frail fraction of the woman she was. This portrait is the most important sketch I will do in some time. It is time to pack up my supplies and get to the hospital. I approach this new found day buzzing with hope and faith. I do not want to waste a minute.
FRESH Massage
On the first night of FRESH, I started to sketch people getting free massages. When the sketch was half finished, I decided to try a neck massage for myself. My neck always tenses up when I am sketching. I figured getting the massage was a form of research. How else could I understand how the clients felt? Naomi Bourassa worked on my neck while Denise Lefebvre worked on another client. Naomi did a great job focusing on my neck. I became disoriented at one point and lost track of where she was standing. I don’t know why that was on my mind, I was trying to visualize the massage with my eyes closed. As I said, this was research. when my shoulders were loose, Naomi rolled my head, and stretched it side to side. She finished up just as the first of the audience members started to enter the theater. I felt great.
On night two I asked her to work the kinks out again . The sketch is probably more expressive since I did my homework by fully living the experience.
Nude Nite – Fuschia Foxxx
Kelly Stevens the founder and mastermind of Nude Nite asked me to stop in to the event to do some sketches each night. If you missed Nude Nite which ran from February 11-13th you missed an amazing experience. I would suggest you look up the event coming up in Tampa on March 4-6th. You really shouldn’t miss it. When I arrived at the warehouse I walked in a side door and was stopped by a bouncer, I guess I had walked in the exit. Getting my hand stamped and getting checked off the list took a few minutes. The open warehouse space where the event was staged was packed. Art was to be found in every nook and cranny of the place. I wandered in a daze wondering what I should sketch first. There were live nude picture installations with nude models voguing behind gilded frames. In one corner, artists were sketching a nude model. Wandering the floor were many dancers moving provocatively and stealthily. Suddenly loud music blared from a corner stage with red and blue curtains and a gilded offset fame defining the stage.
Fuschia Foxxx a burlesque performer from Seattle took to the stage. Fuschia moved like a sensuous belly dancer. A large red skull with glowing rind stones covered her crotch. When she raised her arms, six other arms followed making her look like an Indian Goddess. Slowly and with some flair, the elements of her costume fell away and the crowd cheered as the music grew louder.
After her act was over, I started splashing color on the sketch as fast as I could so I could move on and explore some more.
As I wandered the room people I had never met before started introducing themselves to me. Getting to meet so many new people was fun and unexpected. It made me want to return again. I had come this first night after FRESH had completed its night of performances. That meant I really only had time for this one sketch and I was desperately wanting to sketch some more.
Voci Dance – iMove_2.0: iCandy Rehearsal
iMove_2.0: iCandy was built around the theme of love. Naomi Rhema and McClaine Timmeran started writing love notes on long strips of paper and envelopes as they waited for the dance rehearsal to start. The long strips of paper were used to construct a paper chandelier which hung in the center of the performance space much like an upside down wedding cake. Full Sail students were busy hanging lights and setting up a second installation with light bulbs hanging from long wires and flexible PVC zip tied to the rafters. 
Actually, a female student was at the top of the ladder the whole time doing all the work while the male student stood at the bottom of the ladder checking instant messages on his cell phone. The Full Sail students all volunteered their time to get all the lighting and high tech projections in place. They may have worked several all-nighters to get this show up in time for ArtsFest.
Genevieve Bernard explained that this installation was all about technology and how it affects romance. I loved an act between dances when McClaine acted like a high school girl talking on a Touch-Tone phone. She danced around excitedly stepping over the cord and then wrapping herself up in the cords embrace. This was lighthearted fun in keeping with much of the show. There were also cell phones hung with care and some very old computers and video games.
The dancers went through a routine in which they all wear LED-head lamps. There was something haunting and tribal about this performance. Periodically, I would be blinded by a dancer,s high beam if she turned her head in my direction. When the warehouse is dark, this dance should looked amazing.
In the several rehearsals I sat in on, I only saw a small fraction of the final show. This keeps me hungry, always wanting to stick around for one more sketch as the drama in motion unfolds. This was one of my favorite ArtsFest events, and it required a whole lot of love and commitment to bring it to life.
37th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade
A pro choice meeting was held at the First Unitarian Church of Orlando(1901 East Robinson Street) to commemorate the 37th anniversary of the supreme court decision to legalize abortion in America. There were finger sandwiches and plenty of cake and cookies before the meeting. I must have downed about a dozen girl scout cookies. A sweet old lady names Shirley came up to me and introduced herself. She asked if I was a member of the church and she was warm and welcoming. A crowd of perhaps 30 or 40 people gathered and sat to listen to what speakers had to say. I found it interesting that there was a sign that read, “Republicans for Choice”. When a speaker asked how many Republicans were in the room, the blond woman directly in front of me was the only person to raise a hand.
The most moving talk was given by Reverend Roberta of the First Unitarian Church. She relived an experience she had when she was in college. A friend of hers who had never taken a sex education class, ended up getting pregnant. The woman was devastated and decided she had to abort the baby. Back then abortion was illegal but was still being practiced in back alleys. She was told to wait for a car to pick her up at a specific location and she would be dropped off at the same place an hour later. Roberta was in the group of woman who picked the poor woman up. She had been told to only seek medical help if the bleeding became excessive. She was bleeding, but certainly didn’t know how to define excessive. She also didn’t want to go to doctors who would almost certainly figure out what had happened. Everyone in the car finally decided they had to get her to an emergency room. By this time there was no question that the woman was bleeding excessively. The friend lived but could have easily died that day.
Sue Idtensohn from Planned Parenthood of Greater Orlando spoke about how right to life advocates keep chipping away at Roe v. Wade in any way they can. She said one way they found to deal with demonstrators was to have a lawn sprinkler system installed. She said the town tried to limit the days that the sprinklers are turned on. But if demonstrators are on the property, she still plans to turn on the sprinklers regardless. She feels women are entitled to proper sexual health care and advice and they should not have to walk through demonstrators to get it.
Two Hearts: One Love
The ride from Hannah Miller’s home to the Orange County Courthouse was a bit nerve-wracking, since the rain just wouldn’t let up. Hannah’s roommate, Caeley, drove Hannah to the courthouse. When they arrived, Caeley didn’t want to leave the car since it was raining so hard. She never did get out of the car, remaining there through the whole wedding ceremony. When I got to the courthouse steps, Hannah was standing in the front entry with a small crowd of men surrounding her, admiring her dress. It was cold, so she said we should all get inside. As she made her way through security, a man complimented her on her dress and asked, “Who is the lucky man?” Hannah replied, “I honestly don’t know him.” She wasn’t lying.
Upstairs in the Marriage License office there was a huge crowd of people all waiting for her arrival. People applauded when she entered. Then we all waited for the groom; notoriously late to his own performances. Couples were escorted periodically into the small room where the wedding ceremonies take place. With everyone talking excitedly, one of the court clerks finally shouted out, “Would you all please quiet down? We are trying to perform some REAL marriages in the next room!” I was wedged up in a tight spot, sketching right next to the door to the ceremony room. Every time the door was opened, I would have to lean to one side since my sketch bag would be hit by the opening door. Whenever a new couple exited the room, our group clapped and cheered. When a new couple would walk into the room, however, everyone was silent. Hannah said, “That is because we were all judging them.” I started to get worried that Hannah might be left at the altar without a groom, but about a half hour late, Brian finally showed up. He apologized saying traffic had been crazy because of the rain. The waiting continued.
Finally, the court clerk called out the names of Hannah and Brian. About 30 people squeezed into the small ceremony room while others crowded in the doorway trying to peek in. I stood on a chair so I could see the couple and sketch.
Logan Donahoo gave away the bride and from this point on it was a traditional ceremony. Hannah struggled with her veil during the beginning of the ceremony and apologized to the clerk. When Brian was asked if he would “Take this woman” he hesitated for the longest time. He finally decided to simply say, “I do.” Jeremy Seghers held the ring which was fashioned from a marriage license that had been denied to a same- sex couple earlier that afternoon. Brian said that the bouquet should be for the same sex couple who were standing at the foreground of all the action. When the ceremony was over, Brian stomped on a plastic cup and people shouted out, “Mazel tov!” Then, Brian and Hannah shook hands and went their separate ways. Hannah of course, returned to her boyfriend Jack Fields, while Brian faced an increasing barrage of interviews from local and national media. Perhaps, someday, love, will be the only criterion for people to join their hearts in marriage.