That’s a drawing of me! It’s mine!

Posted on by Thor

In April of last year I separated from my wife. For 6 months I rented a snowbird’s place in Winter Park. After being separated for more than a year, I went into mediation with my wife. The simple goal of the meeting with 3 lawyers and ourselves was to divide the assets we had built together over the years. The mediation lasted all day with my wife and her lawyer sequestered away in a separate room. When 5PM rolled around with the lawyers wanting to get home, she set a final demand. She wanted half of the sketchbooks that I had created since I started this blog in 2009. My lawyer was

stumped. What value could these sketchbooks have? There was a spreadsheet that divided up our assets. Her Porche was in her column, my Prius in mine. It was decided that my sketchbooks, my original works of art, should go on the spreadsheet opposite her jewelry. Negotiations broke down. I could not give up something that was so much a part of myself. There is also something called copyright which states that once an artist creates an image it is his. Certain reproduction rights can be sold, but the image remains the artists. The divorce will have to be settled in court.

Hurricane Maxine set me up on a date with an artist in town. Hurricane Mathew resulted in my lending my advice to this woman
about how to secure her yard items so they might not become missiles in
the high winds. I moved heavy items and secured the property. We rode
the storm out together. Over 6 months, this Hurricane Mathew relationship grew rocky as well. After we had gone our separate ways she decided that I owed her two prints of sketches that I had done of her in her home. I had already given her an original portrait for Christmas.That wasn’t enough. The sketches were of happier times that she wanted to keep.  She also wanted a signed copy of my book in return for some editing she had volunteered to do on my resume.  Why is it that any woman I meet starts demanding to take my work? I don’t get royalties for selling my book, so I would be paying the publisher wages I had earned by writing the book in the first place. Should I just start painting still lifes? Perhaps I should only be sketching cute cats and puppies, they seem very popular on social media and they offer unconditional love without needing to have the sketch. I’ve decided that people are too demanding a subject.

Curator of Exhibitions and Collections Pamela Schwartz.

Posted on by Thor

I first met Pamela Schwartz, The Orange County Regional History Center Chief Curator three months after the horrific Pulse Nightclub shooting that took 49 lives. I had contacted artist, and History Center Collections manager Whitney Broadaway, about sketching interviews with survivors, family of victims and first responders. It just so happened that Pamela was beginning interviews, so the collaboration made perfect sense. Pamela is an artist herself, so she understood what I do.

Pamela had been working as the History Center museum curator for just four months when the Pulse shooting happened. As politicians and first responders scrambled for a course of action, Pam was making plans on how the History Center could play a role in preserving the history that was unfolding. Multiple memorials were appearing with people leaving flowers candles and personal mementos. Rather than have all these items end up in a landfill, Pamela spearheaded an effort to collect, preserve and catalogue all of the thousands of items in the museum archives.

The collections work happened under grueling conditions in the height of the Florida summer heat. It was thankless work since not everyone understood or appreciated what the museum staff was doing. To date over five thousand items are still being preserved and catalogued. In this sketch Pamela is working late at night cataloguing the 49 crosses that were left at Lake Beauty next to the Orlando Regional Medical Center where people were treated after the shooting. After being collected, each cross was placed in a specially made archival box with a clear front. All of the memorial items left at each cross would fit in another box that slips behind the cross inside the box, keeping everything together. Preservation of the crosses was a challenge since they weren’t built to last. Pamela took photos of each cross when they were at the hospital, showing them the first day and then sequentially with memorial items added over time. A large online database was created where memorial items can be seen. The crosses were supposed to go on public display 6 months after the shooting but Hurricane Mathew shut down those plans and canceled the Pride Parade. With one year fast approaching this June, the crosses are once again being considered as a symbolic centerpiece to honor each of the victims.

On Pam’s desk are several EMS and fire department rainbow patches which were custom made to honor the senseless loss of life. It is just one example of the many small gestures that people continue to make in order to deal in some way with the tragedy. Such items are often sent straight to the museum since only the memorial at Pulse remains. Lake Eola and the memorial at the Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts have since been collected and are now being preserved.

On this night the subject for the interview didn’t show up, so I sketched Pam at work. She entertained me with stories about her family in the midwest. She has been working in museums since she was 14,  so she was immediately up to the challenge when the Pulse Tragedy occurred. Interviews are still being conducted and likely will continue for years to come. Not everyone is ready to talk about that night. Just locating people is a challenge. Some wounds may never heal. I feel fortunate to be using my art to help document this story.

La Maschera Goes Parisian Ooh La La!

Posted on by Thor

La Maschera was presented by Goose Island: Madame Rose, Sofie, Matilda and Pere Jacques. Guests enjoyed a journey back to Paris in the 1890s, when impressionist artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec created his most famous works of art. How could I resist the temptation to sketch in the Abbey, turned into the Moulin Rouge, the birthplace of the modern Can-Can dance? The Montmartre neighborhood is the symbol of creativity, pleasure, beauty, and celebration.

People dressed up for an evening of live entertainment, dancing,
a silent auction,
gourmet food, beer
and wine.
Proceeds from this event benefited the Downtown Arts District. I wanted to play the part of Toulouse, but I’m just too tall. My only option to dress a bit French was to wear a striped shirt. During the course of the evening, however, I found out that the stripes were in the wrong direction. French stripes are horizontal, but mine were vertical.

I sketched the band and the lovers seated together. Rather than do a third sketch, I sat with friends and sipped a glass of wine. The dance floor was full. Maxine Earhart was a hurricane of social activity and I was swept up and seated strategically. The evening’s laughter cemented the start of a new friendship. The promise of a complimentary bottle of wine and dinner was interrupted by Hurricane Matthew, which blew apart my social plans by shutting down Orlando, yet creating a common bond in the face of danger. Lawn furniture was secured and every imaginable lawn missile was placed in the garage. We were told not to sleep, so the TV announced the storm’s progress while we watched the animated swirling storm maps. I finally went to bed the next morning knowing the worst of the winds had passed. There was no damage, but returning life to normal would take time.