McFeldman Wedding

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At the start of the year I was asked to join the Feldman family as they celebrated the wedding of Adrienne Feldman to Jason McIntosh. The wedding took place at the Orlando Shakespeare Theater (812 East Rollins Street). When I arrived, I immediately went inside the Goldman Theater where the ceremony was going to take place. The Houpa was already set up, so I used the time prior to the ceremony to work out the details of the space. It was on this stage that the Feldman family once performed as the “Feldman Dynamic.” This Fringe show organized by Brian Feldman, simply featured a dinner table and the family eating dinner as they always did. There was no script, this was a simply demonstration of life as theater. Now the family once again took to the stage to enact the simple drama of joining two hearts. Before the ceremony Brian paced the stage excitedly.

When the wedding party took to the stage, I started sketching frantically, since I knew the wedding ceremony would last at most a half an hour. The family had saved several seats for Terry and myself in the front row but I liked the view from the back row where I could work some audience members into the foreground. When it came time to exchange rings, a small Dachshund ran up to the stage. The dog was wearing a tuxedo and the rings must have been tied to the outfit. Everyone laughed out loud at the sight. The ceremony was quick and to the point. When Jason had to stomp on a glass, he missed on his first and second try. Once again the seriousness of the occasion was broken and people laughed.

The reception was held in the Patrons Room which was once a planetarium in the buildings past. A green laser projected thousands of green points up onto the dome shaped ceiling. Every table in the room was labeled with a month of the year. The newlyweds sat at the January table at the front of the room. Adrienne approached me and said she was excited to finally be in one of my sketches. She was upset however that only her back was in the sketch. I decided I would have to sketch her during the reception to make it up to her. The moments of the celebration seemed to fee by as I sketched. Brian joked with me that this assignment was much harder than the sketch I did of the swan boat talks. He was absolutely right. Getting this sketch was a major challenge since the reception flew by at the breakneck pace of an MTV music video. As I worked, the caterer insisted I move to make room for an ice cream table. I said that wasn’t going to happens, he shoved the table up behind me. Jason’s mom, Janice, tackled the job of cutting the wedding cake. She joked with me that she hadn’t signed on for cake duty but she was a trooper and as the last slices were being handed out, I was finally wrapping up my sketch.

Gender in Art

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I went to meet Terry at the Orlando Museum of Art for a discussion about the new exhibit at the museum which focuses on Gender in Art. There was a wonderful spread with Salmon, spinach dip , crackers, chips and deserts. A fairly large crowd filled the central atrium with the blue Chihuly chandelier. As I was eating I noticed that another crowd had gathered in the central gallery. No food was allowed inside so I gulped down my soda and crackers and dashed inside. A woman was giving a talk and she moved people around the room explaining the art. There was a Warhol print of Marilyn Monroe and some paintings of women throughout the ages. There was a long line of women’s slips suspended from the ceiling presumably to hint at a woman’s closet being a work of art. A small fabric doll from china had bright gold beads and pins sewn on one side and the other side had black beads in an intricate pattern. This was supposed to indicate how women are perceived and then how they are actually treated.

I sat opposite this wedding dress created by LesleyDillin. The dress is made from acrylic and thread on a mannequin. In 1994 this dress was worn by a model who read the Emily Dickenson poem, “The Soul has Bandaged Moments.” The poem is written all over the dress in bold black paint. As the model read, she ripped the dress off, shredding it to pieces. Lesley later sewed the pieces back together with black thread.

The Soul has Bandaged moments –
When too appalled to stir –
She feels some ghastly Fright come up
And stop to look at her –

Salute her – with long fingers –
Caress her freezing hair –
Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
The Lover – hovered – o’er –
Unworthy, that a thought so mean
Accost a Theme – so – fair –

The soul has moments of Escape –
When bursting all the doors –
She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
And swings upon the Hours,

As do the Bee – delirious borne –
Long Dungeoned from his Rose –
Touch Liberty – then know no more,
But Noon, and Paradise –

The Soul’s retaken moments –
When, Felon led along,
With shackles on the plumed feet,
And staples, in the Song,

The Horror welcomes her, again,
These, are not brayed of Tongue –

– Emily Dickenson

Annulment

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After being married for 11 months and one week, Brian Feldman and Hannah Miller ended a marriage that, though not entered into lightly, was not about the love between a man and woman. Rather they were married as a demonstration that a man and woman who don’t even know each other can easily get married, while same sex couples who might have lived together for years are denied the same privilege and rights. Theirs was a fight for equality.

When I arrived at the courthouse on the day of the annulment there was a long line of people waiting to enter the courthouse as the sun began to warmly illuminate the granite courtyard and columns. Behind me a man dropped his cell phone. He picked it up and someone asked if it was alright. He said, “I won’t be needing it where I am going. ” He went on to explain that he had been pulled over and he had no registration. Which according to him, would land him in jail for 20 days. The man behind him said, “That is nothing, I drove for 19 years without a registration. I only got caught because I wasn’t wearing a seat belt.” Inside we shuffled through switchbacks until we came to the X-ray machines and metal detectors. My bag was pulled aside to be searched and I was patted down. In my bag the guard found some soda bottle tops which I planned to recycle. The offensive item being searched for was my palette with its menacing grid of colors. After I was asked to open it, I was let go with a smile.

Up in the courtroom 16H waiting area, I sat down, surprised to not see Brian or Hannah. Terry Olson showed up and decided to check another courtroom down the hall to be sure we were in the right place. After the announced court time had passed, I decided the annulment might not happen, so I started sketching lawyers. Then Brian poked his head out the courtroom door and signaled me to come inside. He whispered to me that I should start sketching the court room. As I debated about whether to sit in the front or back row, the bailiff officer asked if he could help me, never a good sign. He asked what case I was with, and when he confirmed I was not with the active case, he asked me to leave. Out in the waiting area Hannah arrived as did four or five friends.

People were getting divorced like clock work. Judge Maura T. Smith would ask a few pointed questions and then the divorces were granted. Finally Brian and Hannah’s case was called into the courtroom. Judge Smith asked Brian to explain his petition for annulment. He explained that he and Hannah did not consummate the marriage, in fact he had only seen her maybe 10 times since they were married. He briefly mentioned that the marriage was intended as a performance piece. Judge Smith indicated that everything was in order and she instructed the couple to get the final paperwork filled out down the hall. The case could not have lasted more than ten minutes. As the courtroom emptied I stayed behind intent on finishing my sketch. Hannah signaled to me from the doorway indicating I should join them. I feared she might attract the bailiffs attention, giving him another reason to kick me out of the courtroom before the sketch was finished. The bailiff came over to see my sketch. He said, “Nice, but you left out the most handsome man in the room.”

The next person to enter the courtroom was a burly man in an orange jumpsuit with his hands chained behind him. He sat down in the chair Brian had just vacated. It seemed this convicted felon was involved in a divorce even while he was serving time in jail. When I left the court room, Brian was sitting in the hallway working on his iPhone. He showed me the final document with its official seal and signatures. As we made our way to the elevators, he suddenly ran towards the window to look down at the courtyard where Hannah was going to read a prepared statement. Watching her video had me in tears, the importance of what these two had done truly sank in. Both had sacrificed their love for a cause they believed in. I hope this inspires others to stand up to this and any other injustice. Every voice counts make yours heard.

22 Sandwiches

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Terry and I planned to go out Sunday afternoon to watch a football game at a bar. Before we did we went to visit Mary Hill at her mothers home in Winter Park. I had not gone to the reception after Margaret Hills funeral. Instead I rushed home and started to write. This was the first time Terry had visited Mary at her mom’s house. When we arrived Mary offered us drinks and sandwiches. Mary’s neighbor Phyllis Miller was there and she used a portable grill she had bought from home to toast our sandwiches so they were nice and crunchy like Panini’s. This was the first time Terry really had time to get to know Mary and they really hit it off. Mary’s friend Elizabeth Cohen showed up soon afterward. Terry and Elizabeth had many things in common for instance they had both lived in Israel for a while so they were like two peas in a pod.

After Phyllis left, Elizabeth and Mary started a sandwich production line. Elizabeth smeared on some mayo and then Mary put on cold cuts and cheese. Mary had so many leftovers from the funeral that she wanted to make sandwiches and hand them out at Lake Eola, in her mother’s memory. I warned Mary that there was a law on the books that said no one could feed more than 25 people in a public park in Orlando. In all they made 22 sandwiches. Terry was touched by this generosity and at first she wanted to go to Lake Eola to help hand out the sandwiches. Then Elizabeth got a call and realized that she had totally forgotten about a social engagement she had made. After Elizabeth left, Terry decided we should go with our original plan and we soon left to see a playoff football game downtown at Wild Side. Mary packed all the sandwiches into a fabric reusable grocery bag.

After Terry and I left for the bar Mary headed down to Lake Eola. The bar was really crowded but we muscled our way into a room with a large wide screen TV. I can’t really relate the details of the game because quite honestly I wasn’t paying much attention. I do believe the Packers won because I like the bright colors on their uniform and there was plenty of cheering whenever the bright green jerseys ran into the end zone. It was towards the end of the game that I got a text from Mary saying she had finished handing out the sandwiches.

Later I learned from Mary that this simple act of generosity was moving on so many levels. Everyone she approached was honesty thankful. One woman related that it was impossible to find food on a Sunday. She approached one group of 3 men and had two sandwiches in her hands. Two of the men stood side by side and the third was a few steps further down the trail. When Mary asked if they would like some sandwiches the first two men of course accepted her offering. The third had trouble walking and he hobbled closer. The man standing closest to Mary looked at his sandwich and then at the man hobbling closer to him. He paused and thought to himself before he decided to give the struggling man his sandwich. He looked down afterwards certain he must have made a mistake since he might have to go hungry that night. After a moments pause the man finally looked up at Mary. Luckily she had another sandwich in her bag and he was truly grateful. Mary was moved close to tears by his act of selfless giving on his part.

Mary had not had the chance to relate to anyone why she was handing out sandwiches at Lake Eola. When she handed out the last sandwich in her bag, the man thanked her saying, “You must be an angel, I was just standing here thinking to myself that I was an idiot for missing the food line earlier today and I would have to go hungry tonight. Then here you are handing me a sandwich!” He asked why she was here alone handing out sandwiches and she was able to relate her story of the leftovers after her mothers funeral. She said her mother was a generous person and she was giving away the sandwiches in her honor. The man said, “Your mother is still teaching you lessons isn’t she?” “Yes, she certainly is and I’m sure she will for many years to come.” Mary said.

Martin Luther King Vigil

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It was 6:01pm and I sat in the balcony of the Knowles Chapel at Rollins College. At 6:01pm on April 4th 1968, Martin Luther King was shot while standing on the balcony of the Lorraine motel. He was just 39 years old. Everyone assembled stood for a moment of silence. Muffled through the thick church walls, the sound of church bells chiming solemnly filled the air. It was a quiet contemplative moment to honor someone who helped change millions of lives. We were reminded that although we might have come far, we have not reached the promised land. Rollins students gathered before the audience and sang, Lift every Voice and Sing, which is considered the black national anthem. I honestly had never heard this song before but by the end I was singing along with them. King dreamed of a world united, where everyone was engaged not as spectators but as active citizens fighting any injustice. As Baha’u’llah said, “So powerful is the light of unity that it can illuminate the whole earth.”

Several speakers mentioned that King was a man with many doubts. When he first demonstrated for human rights he was just 28 years old. He felt he had to step up. It was work that needed and if he didn’t do it, who would? It was precisely his self doubt and human frailty that made his accomplishments so astounding. The key note speaker, Nadine Smith, pointed to the continuing struggle to fight for the rights of gay lesbian and trans-gender members of our society today. She spoke about an incident when she was a student when several gay men were beaten by military personal at a public event. She in the back of her mind thought, that is terrible, but these things happen. The military claimed the men were behaving inappropriately in a way that threatened family values. Family’s who saw the beatings however stood up and stated that the only objectionable actions were on the part of the officers. At the public demonstration that followed Nadine saw straight and gay people arm in arm with their voices united in song. That moment changed her life. She suddenly realized she could no longer accept injustice as a fact of life. She needed to take action.

Maya Angelou said, “”When you learn, teach. When you get, give.” The message of giving back as a concerned and active citizen was returned to again and again. In fact an individuals constant striving to improve the world does make a difference. The shooting in Tuscon Arizona helped people realize they should speak with some level of civility. Yet what politician ever mentions love? Martin Luther King did believe and speak of loving one another. Soon everyone in the chapel was singing, “We shall Overcome.” The last time I had heard this song was on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. being sung by people who had just been made citizens of the United States. My heart filled with hope and joy then, as it did in this gorgeous chapel.

As Reverend Patrick Powers read Dr. King’s “I have a Dream” speech, everyone exited the church where they were given candles for a silent vigil. Soon I was the only person left inside listening to Kings resounding words. The moment felt important. Perhaps someday the dream will be made real.

Vanilla Dream

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After attending a funeral, I had time to kill before getting to Stardust to see Doug Rhodehamel’s “Sea of Green” exhibit. I had a note that another exhibit titled Connected by Jason Lee was happening at Rhapsodic Bakery (710 North Mills Avenue.) The five paintings shown in this sketch were the extent of the work being displayed at Rhapsodic. Prices ranged from $500 to $800 dollars. I had seen Jason’s work once before at the Peacock Room. The work is surreal and fanciful often involving images of the cosmos. Since I had well over an hour to kill, I walked up to the young girl behind the counter and tried to decide on a tasty treat for myself. I settled on the Vanilla Dream cupcake mostly because I liked how it sounded. She chimed in that the Vanilla Dream was her favorite as well.

After I settled in and started sketching she started to cut up hundreds of thin slips of paper using a tiny cutting board. Each slip had to be cut separately. she had to have been working for well over an hour cutting those slips of paper never once noticing that I was sketching her. When my sketch was finished the bakery had started to get busy and more customers were coming in. I asked her what all the slips of paper were for and she explained that they were for labeling orders of baked goods that were sent out to customers. I can say with no doubt that the Vanilla Dream that I ate was delicious. Washed down with a sparkling apple juice it was a perfect afternoon snack. I felt comfortable sitting and sketching away the hours and I noticed other customers come in with laptops which they flipped open so they could pass the time.

As I walked back to my truck I noticed an open door of one of the nearby Vietnamese shops. Inside Vietnamese men were sitting at card tables playing what I presumed to be poker. Behind the card tables were several pool tables. It should make for a great sketch, assuming I am welcome. That will have to wait for another day.

Circus Abuse

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I went to the Amway Center (400 West Church Street) to see if there were any animal cruelty demonstrators. Ringling Brothers Circus was in town. As I approached I could hear an announcer saying, “Welcome to the Greatest Show on Earth!” I was taken to the circus only once as a child, but the memory flooded back and my pulse quickened. There was a cluster of perhaps 5 demonstrators as soon as I arrived. I asked if there were more demonstrators and was told there were. I walked around for a bit expecting to find a larger crowd. I returned and decided this woman in the blood red jacket was the perfect subject. I let her know I would be sketching her and then got to work. She stood silently the whole time I sketched. There was no shouting in protest, just a silent stoic vigil. The photograph on her protest poster showed handlers choking and using a sharp billhook on a baby elephant. This protest was organized by the Animal Rights Foundation of Florida.

The brochure handed out by the protesters stated that Ringling had consistently racked up U.S. Department of Agriculture violations including: improper handling of animals, inadequate housing, failure to provide veterinary care and failure to allow inspections. Since 1992 twenty six Asian Elephants, including four babies, died under Ringling’s care. The protesters feel circus life is inherently cruel to animals. One elderly woman took a flier and when she realized what it was about she irately gave it back. She then walked on to enter the Amway Center. As I sketched more and more people walked by to the circus. Most people ignored the demonstrators, a few asked to take pictures. It was very cold that night. I put up my hood and I imagined the woman in red must have been freezing. A homeless man from Tennessee asked me if I knew where he could find a meal. On the walk over to Amway I had noticed a long line for food behind the Greek Orthodox Church. I offered the man directions. He shook his head and walked away.

The circus animals don’t perform because they want to, but rather because they fear the painful punishment they will get if they don’t. Kept confined and fearful in chaotic, loud and unnatural environments the animals are always on edge. Trained to amuse they sometimes lash out against the abuse, and the resulting rampages have lead to property damage, injuries and deaths. A policeman walked up to me and asked how I was doing, we had talked at several other events and he liked my work. He asked what I planned to sketch tomorrow and I told him, “The Highland Games.” He told me he is Scottish and he wished he could go, but he was always working. When I finished, I showed the woman in red the sketch and she was amused. As I walked away down Church Street, family’s flooded by me all taking their toddlers to see “ The Greatest Show on Earth.“

Maitland Historical Society

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In the weeks leading up to Christmas, the Maitland Historical Society held and open house in its Victorian home on Lake Lilly. The Waterhouse Residence Museum had free admission on the day I went. The Maitland Historical Society had just recently joined forces with the Maitland Arts Center hopefully forming a more cost effective and stronger union. I set my stool up and leaned back to sketch in the residence. It was a stunning afternoon and the sun warmed my up perfectly. There were several small groups who entered the residence for the holiday tour. Every room was decorated in a traditional Victorian fashion. The shadows grew longer as I sketched and before I was done I found myself in the buildings shadow and the air grew colder.

Several young girls were racing each other on foot in the park behind me. The lake had a Christmas tree decorating a central island. I had been to Lake Lilly only once before for an outdoor artist fair. I was surprised that I had never taken the time to come to the historic home before. This is a gem that I will certainly share with family the next time they come to visit.

A Sea of Green

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On Facebook, Doug Rhodehamel left a message saying he would be hanging green fish at Stardust Video and Coffee all afternoon. I immediately jumped in my truck and headed over. The show he was preparing for was called “Sea of Green.” When I got to Stardust, sure enough there was Doug high up on a ladder hanging green cardboard fish. Each fish is made from green corrugated cardboard with drink lids for eyes. Inside each lid was a green or blue disk which was painted with day glow paint. He had a small pile of fishes on a speaker and he would string each one with a fishing line and then climb back up the ladder to hand it from one of the steel beams overhead. It must have been back breaking work and I was there just seeing the first fish as they were hung. When he was finished, the entire room was filled with fish from floor to ceiling and wall to wall.

At the opening, Doug explained that he had gotten the idea from the Beetles song “Yellow Submarine“, where the lyrics mention swimming in a Sea of Green. The room was dark and the eyes glowed eerily in the darkness. The small fish can be bought for just $5. I know this because Rachel, a ceramics artist, lifted a fish up from inside her leather jacket. The fish eye glowed even through the paper bag it was enclosed in. She took the fish out of the bag and pointed to the reason she had bought it, the fish had a light spattering of day glow paint on its body. It was this imperfection that had caught her eye and sealed the deal.

Author Rachel Kapitan was there having just come from her reading at Neon Forest. She pointed out how she loved the purity of the color. I wanted to talk to Rachel about her writing and “Synthetic Fiction”, a literary style she seems to be spearheading. I never got the chance. Jessica Pawli pushed up and said hello to me. She asked if I was still without a computer and I had to relate the painful tale of living six days with no computer. It is odd that people know what is happening in my life thanks to Facebook. It certainly makes starting conversations in a crowded room so much easier. Stardust was packed. A band was setting up in the next room and every table was filled. In a crowded room I always get lost in the ambient noise of the space. I find it difficult to hear a person even when they are right in front of me. I tried lip reading. When the band started playing, I moved towards them considering a sketch. A fellow who looked like a native American Indian was playing a fiddle and the drums were pounding. It could have been my 5th sketch of the day, but I was tired and Terry was at home waiting for me. I went outside, sent her a text, and headed home. You have to go down to stardust some evening and see this amazing display yourself. You will be glad you did.

In Loving Memory of Margaret Ann Hill 1932-2010

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Margaret Hill, who I had visited and sketched a number of times, died December 28th in her home on Baffie Avenue in Winter Park. Her daughter Mary Hill had taken care of her for over two years. The memorial service was held at Saint Charles Catholic Church not far from the home. When I entered the church there was a large group of people standing in the entry lobby. I noticed several of Mary’s neighbors and said hello. Mary was being greeted by family members and after a few moments I was able to offer her my condolences. Actually, as I think back, I might not have said anything that would be considered a condolence. It was more the opposite. Mary hugged me and thanked me for being there, and she even offered encouragement and gratitude that I had decided to sketch the service. The service began with one of my favorite hymns, “Amazing Grace.” It is always reassuring that there is hope for a wretch like me. When I hear, “I was blind, but now I see”, I am always certain I never see, feel or express things clearly enough.

The sermon was conducted by Father Augustine Clark who had visited the Hill house often and therefor he knew Margaret well. Whenever I visited Margaret there were always social workers, hospice care nurses and clergy on hand. Mary had a way of always addressing the spiritual needs of her mother as well as her physical needs. “Tears are just a way for the heart to heal itself silently without words.” Father Augustine was saying. He then related a story about the romance that blossomed between Margaret and Duane Hill. They both worked at Swift and Company in Orlando and there was an immediate attraction. Margaret’s father however didn’t approve of the relationship so they had to court each other clandestinely. They would leave love letters under a desk mat so they could secretively communicate. When she turned 21 Duane married her. The priest pointed out how much Margaret loved to garden and her amazing collection of orchids in the back yard. Whenever I spoke with Margaret in the final year, she would grip my hand tightly never letting go. She gripped on to life just as tightly. Margaret always made me laugh, she had a way of smiling slyly as she offered some barb of humor.

Margaret’s ashes were buried at Woodlawn Memorial Park. I went to a Woodlawn Cemetery and walked around for some time looking at headstones decorated with angels and some with wind chimes. A dog started to bark at me from a home on the edge of the cemetery. When no other cars arrived I started to think I might be in the wrong place, so I did an internet search and found out that the cemetery I was supposed to go to was a few miles further up the road. I arrived there at the same time as Mary’s oldest brother, Jean, and I walked with his family to the interment site. There was a small plastic plaque with Margaret’s name on it and a shallow hole which I didn’t notice at first glance. Pastor Steve Horrell said, “The fever of life is over for Margaret. We need to bury our regrets as we forgive others and forgive ourselves.” He asked family members for any memories they might want to relate. Jean’s former wife said Margaret was good with a hammer and saw, that she had helped build a skirt around the base of a trailer that they were living in at the time. Jean related that the family often went to Gator Land on Friday afternoons to catch feeding time.

As Mary placed the gray cylinder containing Margaret’s ashes in the ground, she kissed her fingertips to her lips and then rested them on the cylinder’s lid. It was after she pushed some dirt over the container that grief enveloped her. She had been organizing, supporting, greeting and welcoming people all day. Several family members held her as her knees gave way and she sobbed. Mary was able to embrace and express her emotions openly. I have always had trouble doing that, and emotions hit me when I least expect it. The most important lesson learned from this day for me is that we should be grateful for the fragile gift of life. We should be quick in giving and receiving love and always work to create new memories. Recently I heard a saying that most people sleepwalk through life while the few that do not, live in wide eyed wonder. I want to strive for that feeling of wide eyed wonder everyday, to drink it in and share what I can in my way. Seize the day and live with boundless compassion. On the drive home, my heart filled with joy remembering times spent in the Hill home and yet for the first time, my eyes started to burn.