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.

Champs Sports Bowl Parade of Bands

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The Parade of Bands took place in Winter Park on the Great Lawn of Central Park. The two bands were from rivaling college football teams that would be playing the next day at the Citrus Bowl. There was a huge crowd of people on hand to see the parade. While walking toward the event I found myself behind a man with a walkie talkie and from his conversation I overheard that the bands were late.

I sat myself down and decided to sketch the waiting crowd. An area of lawn had been staked off with orange tape which I assumed would be he final staging area for the bands. An old man probably in his late 90’s was lying on the ground wrapped in a green blanket. Now this must have been a lifelong die hard fan. Many of the fans were elderly in walkers and wheelchairs. Children were also on hand running around and tossing footballs. In the sketch you can barley see a band as it marched down Park Avenue. I sketched in a hint of the tubas.

By the time the bands got to the staging area, I had finished the sketch and I started walking back to my truck. Throngs of football fans started flocking to the staging area. I had no desire to fight the growing crowd to sketch the bands proper. As I walked away, the battle of the bands was in full swing. I went home to warm up.

Deleon Springs

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On a cold winter day, Terry and I drove north to go looking for manatees at Blue Springs. When we got to the suburban road leading to the state park we were confronted with a one mile line of cars waiting to get into the park. We decided to turn around and instead drive further north to Deleon Springs.

At Deleon Springs there is an old mill which has been converted into a pancake house where you grill your own pancakes at your table. We were told the mill would be closing in an hour and that there was a wait to get in so we gave up our pancake dreams and instead relaxed by the spring. The spring is surrounded by beach sand and the the water spills over creating a nice little waterfall. A walkway crossed over the spillway and a father and son were fishing the while time I sketched. The wooden mill wheel doesn’t actually turn since the stream no longer runs beneath it. Terry wandered one of the hiking trails while I sketched. I was sitting in the direct sunlight which kept me warm. The fishermen must have come from up north since they were comfortable in their shorts. Two children looked in the bucket to see the fish that had been caught. The father watching from the walkway had to intervene when the little boy pulled the large fish out of the bucket and let it flop around on the grass. He apologized to the fisherman profusely. When I was done with my sketch, I texted Terry and let her know. As we were heading back to the parking lot, we poked our heads inside the mill to look around. The restaurant was closed but the gift shop was open. We vowed to return and try the pancakes some day.

Philharmonic Rehearsal

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I went to the Shakespeare Theater to sketch the tech rehearsal for the Playwrights’ Round Table seven short play’s launch for 2011. I hadn’t been given a time so I was guessing what time the rehearsals would start. Peeking in the theater B, I found the space empty. As I walked out of the building I noticed someone approaching with a large cello. I decided to follow him and he lead me to a room where Orlando Philharmonic musicians were gathering. There was twenty minutes before the rehearsal started and so I sat down and started lightly sketching in the space. As musicians arrived I placed them in the sketch using ink. When everyone was present, conductor Christopher Willams suddenly appeared. The musicians all found a common tone, then Christopher raised the baton and the music began.

They were rehearsing Shumann’s Symphony No. 2. There were a few stops and starts but in general the music flowed and I let the lines I was putting on the page flow with the same fluid tempo. When the symphony was complete, Christopher said, “My theory is, that in this room you should just keep playing.” I believe he meant, that in such a small room it might be impossible to gauge proper levels to the various sections. After one moving section, he praised the strings and he remarked that they were pulling together as a unified whole.

When the break rolled around I was finished with my sketch and I decided to talk to Caroline Blice for a while. She had been at my 2 year anniversary party for AADW a few days before so we talked about he party.

Toasting Competition at Will's Pub

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Todd Caviness hosted a Toasting Competition at Will’s Pub this holiday season. Seated up front were the judges for the evening, Seth Kubersky, Mark Baratelli and Jordana Meade. There was a gallon of spiked egg nog on the judges table and everyone had a beer in hand. I arrived a little late and the competition was in full swing. I muscled my way back to the bar and got myself a beer from the tap. The event was packed so I was forced to stand in the back of the room to sketch.

Competitors were given a prompt and had to come up with a witty toast on the spot. Hannah Miller went head to head against her boyfriend Jack Fields. When given a prompt to toast Orlando, Hannah turned the competition o. It’s head by not taking the opportunity to lambaste her home town. She actually praised Orlando even in her inebriated state. After each toast the competitors would raise their glass and everyone in the bar would toast and drink. Judges commentary was often just as funny as the competitors themselves. I am glad I wasn’t dragged on the stage because there must be an amazing amount of pressure to say something funny. One competitor stood in the spotlight and after agonizing minute, had to admit he had nothing. This in itself was funny, so I guess no one ever really lost.

After the competition there was an open mic. A poet gave an amazing surreal account of his father’s attempt to sell his old car. Truths were stretched to the point of snapping and the entire account was laugh out loud funny. Mark Baratelli had to follow this amazing performance and I am sure he was pulling my leg when he asked me what he should do when he got on stage. Of course when he got up there, he lit up and the audience was laughing along with him the whole time.

I am writing this blog post entirely on my iPhone so I apologize for the Fat fingered flubs I must be making.