Cinemark – Analog Artist Digital World

Nude Nite swept in to Artegon, (5250 International Dr, Orlando, FL) on February 11th to 13th. Nude
Nite is a dazzling art and entertainment event celebrating the beauty
of the nude. The show brings together hundreds of artists for three
evenings of visual art, performance and a cast of characters both in
costume and out. Show was 21+.

I parked near the Cinemark Theater but when I walked inside, a guard was closing up the mall. H turns out that Nude Nite is on the opposite end of the mall, and I had to walk around on the outside to get there. One small sign on the mall lawn pointed towards “The Art Show”. There was a line near the Nude Nite entrance. I was surprised that the woman at the ticket table knew my name and ushered me in. I was given a NN hand stamp. Why was a hand stamp needed? Perhaps some couples might go out to their car for a quickly, and then return inside for more entertainment.

Art was everywhere. Chairs and umbrellas hung from the high industrial ceilings. Some paintings had been sold. Bernie Martin had a red dot on a nude watercolor selling for $350. A burlesque dancer was performing on the main stage, and the crowd was so dense that I abandoned any notion of sketching any performance on stage. Instead, I explored the outer edges of the venue.

I focused on this sensual dancer who vogued and gyrated all evening. Her sensual swimsuit was painted on along with her ruffled collar. No pasties hid her nipples. She was popular as a photo opportunity with couples posing near the cage, pursing their lips like Zoolander. A sign advised patrons to respect the performer, and Do Not Touch! That sign was common throughout the venue. The dancer took a break just as I was starting to apply color to the sketch. There is no door to the cage, so she had to squeeze through the bars. That in itself was a sensual act of liberation. I patiently painted the background until she returned.

I was standing near a sculpture that resembled a male phallus with spikes sticking out of it. I kept getting asked if I was the sculptor. A photo of nude women posing and intertwining formed the image of a human skill. A gaping open mouthed facade lead patrons in to a hall of mirrors. Several artists asked about my tablet which seems a liability, because no one ever asked what type of sketchbook I was using.

Terry sent me a text message Friday saying she would like to see a movie at the Cinemark Theater at Festival Bay. Festival Bay is a mall that was built a few years ago at the head of International Drive near all the outlet malls. It was built at the height of the real estate boom. Walking through the mall most of the store fronts are shut with giant posters making it look like it will one day be a great place to shop. It has been that way for years as more stores shut. The only reason Terry and I ever go there is for the Cinemark. I arrived early to sketch.

We went to see “The Help” based on a book Terry had read in book club. She joked with me saying it might be a chick flick. In the theater she did a head count and found 5 other men in the half full theater. The row directly in front of us was full of women. The movie was fantastic. A young 23 year old woman decided she wanted to write a book from the vantage point of the black maids in Jackson Mississippi. This was a dangerous proposition for the maids since segregation was the law and the civil rights movement had just begun. The maids raised white babies with love and compassion but they were required to use a separate bathroom. A maid was arrested and beaten when she was accused of stealing a ring. Violence against blacks was the norm. Just talking to a young white journalist was dangerous and against the law.

The movie celebrates the courage required to speak the truth in an age of oppression and prejudice. A scene of people watching the John F. Kennedy funeral on TV sparked one of my earliest memories, reminding me that segregation existed within my lifetime. The story was told with warmth, sincerity and showed the hard truth of bitter prejudice which happened at quaint tea parties as white house wives jockeyed for the power of oppression.

We all have a voice, a story that needs to be told. We can’t drift through life, invisible, following the path of least resistance. The movie left me feeling good knowing that a journalist willing to uncover the truth can help bring about change. Change always comes at a cost and it never happens quickly. As Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” I highly encourage you to see “The Help.”