On Top of Gore Mountain

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My sister Carol decided to car pool us all out to Gore Mountain. It was a frigid cold day. I put on all the sweaters, sweatshirts and coats I had. From the parking lot we could see the snow machines hard at work to open the slopes for the season. In the lodge people were busy putting on their sky boots, water proof bib overalls and thick parkas. People walked like Frankenstein with those big boots on. We didn’t have all the equipment. We just wanted to take the gondola up to the top of the mountain to look around. I think the one time ticket to the top cost $12. I think skiers paid $59 for an all day pass. Holiday rates jump up to $79 for the day. Renting skis would cost $45 for the day. I’ll walk thank you. I doubt I’d sketch any better with skis strapped to my feet.

The gondolas are constantly in motion. We got on as it whipped around to go back up the mountain. The windows were frosted over with ice since the gondola passed close to several snow machines. When we got to the top, we were advised not to walk on any of the ski trails. There was nothing to stop the wind up there. You could see forever. Carol lead us all to the start of one of the trails. Kirsten, Anna and Nini found a small icy hill where they could slide down for 15 feet. I kept my hands jammed in my pockets and faced away from the wind. Carol took some photos. I wasn’t smiling, my face had a grimace of shock.

0n the gondola ride down, I read a sign about the early days at Gore. Seasoned locals used to play tricks on the newbies who came up from New York City. In town they would spread rumors of bear attacks on the slopes. When the newbie went to the top of the mountain, a local would be there hidden in the woods to let out a loud bear growl. Success would be a good wipe out.

I did my sketch when we got back to the foot of the mountain. While everyone else went in the lodge to warm up, I sat at a picnic table to sketch the skiers in line for the gondola. It seemed warm compared to the top of the mountain. My watercolor paint literally crystallized as it froze on the page. I left the effect in several places and rubbed the crystals off in other places when I applied second layers of darker washes. My drawing hand had the finger tips cut off from the glove. I didn’t spend a long time on the sketch because I wanted to get inside to warm up.

WII

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In the evenings everyone would settle into the living room to warm themselves beside their personal digital devices. Nini Thorspecken is a Facebook fanatic. She sat in her green parka with the fur fringed hood chatting to her boyfriend or updating her status. This was the one opportunity I took to sketch her. My sister, Carol Thorspecken Martindale, sat beside her and opened her laptop. I found it fascinating that Carol collects plates to hang on the wall. Ruth, our step mother collected Norman Rockwell plates. Being the youngest child, Carol must have been the most influenced by Ruth’s collection. Carol’s daughter, Anna Martindale, came in and started playing WII. She roped Nini and Kirsten into playing as well. Nini moved on the couch and I decided to sketch her again in her new position.

Anna is very competitive. If there was a setback in the game, she would be upset almost to the point of tears.  If she was winning she would be ecstatic and gloat while doing a happy dance. I joined in on a game of bowling. I was new to the game and I dropped the virtual ball on my toes a couple of times. You get to decide what your character looks like by picking eye shapes, nose shapes etc. I decided to give myself a big puffed up afro haircut. I didn’t win a single game. When I needed to throw straight, the ball curved with English. When I wanted to clip a pin to make a split, the ball would roll between the pins. I was getting a few strikes near the end I think because I was kicking up my right foot to finish my stroke like a cupid on a fountain.

Black Friday

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The day after Thanksgiving, known as Black Friday, is supposed to have some of the best shopping deals of the holiday season. Actually the night of Thanksgiving, stores like Wall mart are supposed to kick off the holiday shopping binge. Carol served us Mike’s Hard Lemonade which I developed a taste for. She cut up vegetables and lettuce for a salad to accompany our left over feast. Carol’s boyfriend’s dog eyed her progress waiting for scraps. Her own dog, a dachshund named Reese’s was blind but he still roamed the room by scent searching for any abandoned morsel. It was like having one of those robot vacuums underfoot constantly roaming the room.

There was definitely no shortage of food and we worked hard devouring the leftovers.  It began to snow. It was only flurries, but it was thrilling for people who are used to the Sunshine State. We took some less than traditional Family portraits at the dining room table. I’m sure the Thorspecken’s back in Germany will be impressed by our refinement and culture. Nini Thorspecken Skyped her parents in Weisbaden every evening. Cornelia and her husband did their best to speak in English. Technology is indeed making the world a smaller place, although we kept loosing the Internet connection.

Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade

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We were staying at Steve Wallace‘s house out on Staten Island. Steve works at the Police Academy in New York City. He drove us to the Academy which is right in the neighborhood of the School of Visual Arts where I went to college. After a quick visit to his office where we left Reese’s, Carol’s Dachshund, we were escorted up to Macy’s by another officer, Joe Deligate. We drove through barricade after barricade until we were right across from Macy’s. There was a special section reserved for police family and we pressed in.

I sketched as we waited for the parade to begin. My older brother Don Thorspecken showed up with his kids, Nicki and Kyle. There was a long wait. Cheerleaders sat in the street hugging their legs trying to stay warm. There were bleachers set up across the street and that was where the TV camera’s were. Macy’s had a large Believe sign on the side of the store. I believe it had to do with the newspaper editors reply to Virginia when she asked if there is a Santa Claus.

Confetti cannons announced the start of the parade. We were at the point where the parade turned right, so we had an unobstructed view of all the floats and balloons as they approached. One balloon was of a Shelf Elf. Carol practices this tradition. A shelf elf is in the home in the week prior to Christmas. This elf reports back to Santa telling him if the children have been naughty or nice. Each day the elf is hidden in a new hiding spot and the kids try to find him. As we ate breakfast one morning, the Kids, Anna and Kirsten discovered the elf sitting right on the light above the table. I hadn’t noticed, since I wasn’t looking.

Floats stopped at our corner so we got to shout out to the stars in the parade, like Whoopie Goldberg and Adam Sandler. Teen pop stars got the loudest shout outs. I didn’t recognize them, but the teens behind me certainly did! Singer, Carley Ray Jepson, who sang that “Call me Maybe” song was on a float. The huge balloons loomed over us as they shifted in the wind. The parade went on for like five hours before we got to see Santa on his sleigh. Nini Thorspecken, my 17 year old cousin visiting from Germany, was right up front, pressed against the metal barricade. I think she was impressed by this American tradition.

Macy’s Parade Balloons

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Terry and I went up to New York City over the Thanksgiving break. A distant cousin, Nini Thorspecken, was visiting America from Weisbadden Germany. Nini is just 17 years old so we wanted to give her an authentic taste of the Big Apple. My sister Carol Martindale came down from upstate New York and we all stayed on Staten Island. The ferry ride across the harbor to the city was gorgeous, going right past the Statue of Liberty. Carol had passes to get into the 9/11 Memorial, so that was our first stop. The memorial is amazing, with two huge square holes where the towers once stood. Water cascaded down into the wells like Niagara Falls and then the water leveled off before dropping into a smaller deeper well. Names of everyone who perished that day were etched in steel along the outer perimeter. It is an amazing sight and I plan to return someday to sketch.

We all took the subway to the Upper West Side to see the Macy’s balloons being blown up on 77th street next to the Museum of Natural History. When I lived in the city, this was an annual sketch ritual. I would stay up all night sketching and then watch as the crews allowed the giants to lift up into the breeze. There was always some balloon that would blow over into a light post, popping a limb. This year the crowds were astonishing. There was a line that branched off for two solid blocks and then wrapped back to where I was standing to sketch. The traffic cop standing in front of me tended to ignore all the pleas from suburban moms who wanted to know how to get in. Occasionally he would point but he never spoke.  Terry went to visit an old friend named Kent Brasloff so I decided I had time to do this one sketch. Carol and Nini decided to go get dinner and they would meet me back here when they were done.

The only balloons I could identify were an Aflac Duck, a Koolaid Pitcher and some Anime dragon. By the time I finished the sketch, the line had backed up to the point where I was in the crush of the crowd. I hadn’t noticed since I was so focused on the strange nocturnal scene. When Carol and Nini came back, I was done. We texted Terry to let her know we were heading back down to the Battery to catch the ferry back to Staten Island. When we got off the subway, Terry called out to us as we were walking up the subway steps. She must have been in the next car.

Winter Park Harvest Festival

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 On November 17th, the day after the ice skating rink opened, The Annual Winter Park Harvest Festival was held on the West Lawn of Central Park. The white tent in my sketch is where the ice rink is housed.The festival is the brain child of John Rife who wants to help educate people to the benefits of eating locally grown produce. A community garden demonstrated what plants did well in Florida.

Since the festival was held right before Thanksgiving, people could consider getting some locally grown, whole hearted goodness on the dinner table for the holiday After walking around and inspecting the fifty or so market tents, I was drawn to the sound of music. Several bays of hay and some speakers were piled onto the back of a truck trailer that served as the stage. A bare scrawny tree offered no shade for the performers and it was hot in the sun. I walked around the staging area several times searching for a shady spot with a good view. I finally leaned against a tree quite far from the stage. Austin Miller was performing. People sat on hay bales and families picnicked on the grass as they listened. “Hey, are you a registered voter?” I was asked. “Yes.” I said. “Well then would you like to sign a petition to help preserve our natural resources?” I had already signed that petition downtown. I heard his pitch again and again. The music was just background noise for the fervor. I didn’t care. It was a beautiful day.

Gailanne Amundsen, of Jubal’s Kin stopped to say hello. Her brother Roger Amundsen had started a locally grown business and he had a tent. Unfortunately, Jubal’s Kin wasn’t scheduled to play. There is a deep rooted Appalachian honesty to their songs that I love. I also bumped into Mark Baratelli and Julie Norris with her daughter Maya. Anna McCambridge Thomas offered me several fried crab cakes from the Big Wheel Food Truck. Boy were they good. Several people I hadn’t met before stopped to tell me they follow my work online. One artist insisted I have to get involved in the annual Winter Park Paint Out. I’ve wanted to sketch that event for the past two years but there was always a scheduling conflict. After my sketch was done, I went to the Big Wheel Food Truck and ordered a stuffed Avocado. I relaxed in the shade and soaked in the music.

Winter in the Park Ice Rink Opening

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On Friday November 16th at 3pm there was a Winter in the Park Ice Breaking Ceremony for the outdoor rink at the Central Park West Meadow.  I was running late to the opening which would involve breaking a large peacock ice sculpture in the most dramatic way. That sounded like an enticing sketch opportunity. Walking through Central Park, I saw Emma Kuch Morris and Betsy Dye chatting on a park bench. I considered stopping to congratulate Emma on her recent marriage, but I was late! I heard then laughing as I rushed on with my art supplies slapping against my leg. After all that rush, I missed the peacock crushing. I didn’t even see any shards.

People were crowding around the rink to watch performers from the RDV Sportsplex Ice Den who began a special performance of “Babes in Toyland.” The performances were a bit too Saccharine sweet for my taste. The ice was then opened up for anyone to skate and I found far more entertainment in watching deep southern beginners falling repeatedly. A mom braced her little girl who was laughing with delight. Two teenage boys held on to the edge rails the whole time, moving in fits and starts.

The Ice Rink will be open till January 8th.  This is a great way to warm up to the holiday season, even if you’re a Grinch like me who delights in the carnage.
Info: (407) 599-3203, Skating includes skate rental $10. 

Hours:

• Monday to Thursday, 3 p.m. to 9 p.m.
• Friday, 3 p.m. to 10 p.m.
• Saturday, 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.
• Sunday, Noon to 8 p.m.

60th Annual Winter Park Christmas Parade

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 I wen t sketch the 60th Annual Winter Park Christmas Parade on December first starting at 9AM. Angela Puik, a young UCF photographer wanted to get some photos of me at work. She and her classmate Abu Ngauja are using me as a subject for their final project in their Advertising and Public Media class. They are pitching the idea of doing a video segment for a PBS Television show called, “One“. I took a look at the program and it has some compelling local human interest stories. There is no guarantee that a video segment will be produced, but I worked with them to hopefully get them excited about documenting live with art.

Parking in Winter Park that day was impossible, so by the time I got to the parade route on Park Avenue, the first police cars were  flashing their lights to start the parade. Angela texted to see if I was at the parade. I told her I was by the silver statue, and it turned out that she was on the same street corner. I felt a little self conscious as I sketched. I figure for a photographer, watching a sketch develop might be like watching grass grow. When I started adding color, several kids started looking over my shoulder. A mom pulled her son away mortified. “I’m so sorry, Bobby, give the man some space!” Angela said she had what she needed and left before the sketch was finished. I quickly blocked in a policeman on horseback.

I walked up to the corner to watch the parade up close when my sketch was done. More than 100 units participated, including bands, local police and fire departments, marching bands, scouting groups, local
dignitaries, and of course Santa Claus. Boy Scout troop 878 was walking by as I muscled my way up for a view. They handed out candy canes for the kids. Unicyclists charged up to kids on the curb seemingly off balance, only to recover at the last moment. Pre-teen cheerleaders shook their pink pom-poms. Behind me, two boys started climbing on the silver sculpture I had sketched. Their father scolded them. They then circled around the art while checking to see if their father was looking. Roses were being handed out and Cloe tried to shyly get one three different times. Her mom was shouting out directions. “To your left! Don’t wait! Run over! She only has a few more!” Cloe returned dejected. Sky Craft had a float with a flying saucer and plenty of dried ice smoke. Someone released a candy cane tied to a red helium balloon. It rose up and got tangled in the street light until a breeze knocked it free and it rose up to the clouds. I left to go to Full Sail before the parade was over in order to avoid the mad traffic rush.

Last Tango in Paris

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Our last evening in France, Terry and I returned to Paris and found a hotel near the train station so we could get to the airport early the next morning. Unfortunately it was raining. Regardless, we decided to walk to Place des Vosges which is a gorgeous manicured park surrounded on all sides by historic architecture. It is the oldest planned square in Paris dating back to 1612. The corner building in my sketch was once the home of Victor Hugo from 1832-1848.  It is now a museum devoted to his memory.

As I sketched, Terry scouted around and discovered several gallery openings. We grabbed glasses of wine at an opening of paintings of bull fighters and tango dancers. Outside music was playing on a radio and  four or five couples were dancing the tango. These were skilled sensual dancers who understood their partners every movement. This was a truly memorable Parisian moment, a perfect way to cap off the trip.

A gallery several doors down was showing bright colorful paintings done of opulent interiors done entirely with pallet knivesand thick juicy paint. I rather liked the work and we met the artist. One last time we hiked back to the hotel watching the bustle and bright lights in the city of light.