Story Hunting

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Mad About Words founder Mary Ann De Stefano invited me to sketch a workshop on October 26th by resident author Caroline Walker at the Kerouac House (1418 Clouser Avenue, Orlando FL). Caroline Walker is a writer, producer and amateur explorer originally from Rock Island, Illinois. She holds a BA from the University of Southern California and an MA from New York University’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study. She has hiked many miles of tunnels, mines, architectural time capsules, trails, not-yet-trails, roads, shorelines, cityscapes, caves, graveyards and abandoned buildings.

The invitation explained, “Writers explore uncharted territory every time we tell a story. We are the cartographers, archaeologists, anthropologists and private eyes of our own imaginations. The real world can be a powerful ally—if we know where to look for clues. This workshop encourages storytellers to excavate narratives through a connection to place. Using photographs and objects as prompts, participants will discover how to:

    Empower locations to serve as dynamic characters

    Employ everyday observation as an evocative research method

    Exploit objects and artifacts as unique narrative tools

    Experience a deeper connection to our surroundings”

This workshop was right up my alley. I’m out exploring everyday using a sketchbook to record the hunt.  Though Caroline was dressed in a fashionable black dress with a tight blue belt, she wore practical hiking boots instead of high heels. She asked the writers to focus on two things, Objects and Places. Places are secret keepers, clues to the story. She described in eloquent detail the unique place in Wisconsin where she grew up. It was spared from the glacial drifts millions of years ago which left it un-scarred. It is the one place where Paleozoic snails survive and it brings back vibrant childhood memories. She talked about the huge Live Oak in front of the Kerouac House which is surrounded by Resurrection ferns and all that implies. Some places instinctively make her light up with inspiration. For some people that place might be a beach, but she feels uncomfortable at the immense expanse of open ocean.   More than anything, she invited writers to discover what place lights them up, to access a childlike sense of newness.

Each writer said a little about themselves including a bit about a place that they call home. Caroline handed out photos she had taken of abandoned places and the authors had thirty seconds to write something based on what they saw. The results were surprising and sometimes profound. Caroline is a true listener, and endlessly curious, I suspect the writing session fueled her creative reserves as well. Her enthusiasm to explore and discover something new everyday was infectious and inspiring.

Mark Your Calendar, Caroline Walker will be reading at the Kerouac House (1418 Clouser Ave, Orlando, FL) on November 16th at 7pm. She will also be reading at Functionally Literate, on November 22nd at The Gallery at Avalon Island (39 S. Magnolia Avenue, Orlando, Fl) starting at 6pm.

On the Tip of Your Tongue

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Mad About Words sponsored a writing workshop with Ellie Watts-Russell the current writer in residence at the Kerouac house. She organized the workshop to explore the power of taste, sound and touch as artistic triggers. The workshop began in the Kerouac house living room where she asked everyone to introduce themselves and point out one quirky fact from their lives. Ellie worked in a men’s prison. The man in front of me said the smell of bacon always reminded him of his time in the navy. A woman related that she electrocuted herself in the kitchen once. Every person offered a fascinating taste and I wanted to hear more. An excerpt was read from several authors who explored the senses in their writing. One paragraph was from Jack Kerouac’s Darma Bums, where he described his ascent up a rocky mountainside. It was vivid and clear. Ellie had a sweet British accent, and she would acknowledge writing she loved as “Brilliant.”

Ellie then asked everyone a series of questions which would help indicate if you were a visual, aural, or tactile author. One question was, after buying an item of IKEA furniture would you,
A. Read the instructions.
B. Ask a friend for advice or
C. Start building and learn as you go.
I was sketching but I am fairly sure I am a visual person. Besides I haven’t fully smelled anything since I moved to Florida.

Ellie then invited everyone to the back room of the house. There she had items to stimulate the senses. For smell there was a large Magnolia blossom floating in a clear bowl of water. For touch there was a brown puddle in a paper plate that held it’s form when lifted like some primordial ooze. For taste there was some cotton candy which had collapsed in the Florida heat forming compact pancakes of multicolored sweetness. Ellie was mortified and put out some fresh “candy floss” but everyone picked up and tasted the hardened masses. On the wall there were photos. A man pushed a large block of ice. A long line of people struggled up a dune. A young girls face was illuminated by her laptop.

Then everyone sat down to write. Many authors sat outside to enjoy the beautiful day. I finished my sketch as they wrote. I wanted to get home to Terry so I didn’t stick around to hear what everyone wrote. I thanked Ellie for letting me sit in and started home. On the drive back I passed a black limo and a hearse. It seemed sad that only two cars followed. Later a gleaming white hearse and limo made a left turn down the Orange Blossom Trail. A large white SUV screeched to a halt in the middle of the intersection and two men in white suits jumped out to direct traffic so that the insanely long line of cars could breeze through. As an artist or author we always hope we can touch many lives with whatever we create. I wondered if my funeral would have one car or a long line in tow. It is a vain glorious thing to ponder but what matters is that I leave something behind, and that I never let my senses grow dull. Howl at the moon and rush off in search of the next sketch.

Elaine Person’s Writing Workshop

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Elaine Person runs a writing workshop every Wednesday at the Winter Park library starting at 7pm. She also teaches at Saint Lukes for a program called Page 16 0n Tuesdays. Saint Luke’s has a 17-year-old School of the Arts. Registration is required. 407-876-4991. This is a separate group. On Sundays at Unity Church, she teaches once a month at 1pm, with no registration required 407-295-9181. The next class is April 10.

She asked me to come in and share a sketchbook and talk about what I do each day, acting as a prompt to help spark the evenings writing session. I always get excited when I get to talk about the amazing stories that cross my path every time I sketch. The writers were then instructed by Elaine to pick a sketch to use as inspiration as they wrote. The room grew silent. No one used a laptop. When it came time for everyone to read what they wrote, I was delighted by the variety. Here was an amazing group of talent. Elaine brings an infectious enthusiasm to the group. Here is just one sample of the work produced that night.

Perspective

Sketching events as they happen
Tom captures the essence of things
He’s perched as a careful observer
To give the happenings wings

He’s also at times a participant
As the action begins on the stage
He’s then a part of the drama
His effect may be tricky to gauge

The concert hall is quiet one moment
There’s tension and hopes for the best
The musicians have drilled and have practiced
They’re hoping their playing seems blessed

A poet is reading her first line
Tom senses the pause in her voice
She’s trying to calm her frayed nerves
So she can continue with poise

A wedding is joyous and crowded
The couple has planned for a year
Tom sketches the concert of vendors
A symphony the couple holds dear

The directors are sharing their visions
Their images, their focus, their light
Will they succeed in condensing a story
And make their vision seem bright?

So what is the role of observer?
He might cause rewriting and changing
Is he audience or co-creator?
Creation is now rearranging.

– Holly Mandelkern

Foil Muse Receptor Caps

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The Silver Fern Writing Workshop held the 2nd and 4th Tuesday of each month is approaching its second anniversary. To help celebrate this milestone, Janna and Geoff Benge decided to mix it up and have some fun by having the authors create their own thinking caps, which they would then wear to tune in to their creative muse. My wife Terry planned to attend and I decided this was a sketch opportunity which could not be missed. When I arrived Janna started telling me that she had just gotten a text from a friend who was in Roswell and he wanted to know if she knew where to find the aliens. This was rather fortuitous, a sign.

Muse cap supplies were scattered about on the dining room table. There was plenty of tin foil, tin pie pans, buttons, rubber bands, straws, soda cup tops, tape and a glue gun. The first author to arrive, already had his tin foil cap made. It had two large handles and a large satellite disk. He explained that tin foil is usually used to deflect the forces of mind control. The disk however was a conduit for pure creative inspiration. Rachel Kapitan designed an elegant Victorian looking bonnet that resembled a peacock when it spread open, fan like, perched on her head. Karen Price used a pie plate cap with a central antenna with a disk and button to catch her signal. Another author used a simple foil cap with foil flames flowing out behind his head. He claimed the design was based on the classic mullet hair style. One author crafted a very accurate Mickey Mouse aluminum skull cap with two buttons that made it look eerily life like. I made some very simple viking horns for my baseball cap to assist in my sketching.

Soon everybody put on their caps and got down to the serious business of writing. The room grew quiet and the pencils, pens and keyboards clicked and scratched out the messages caught by the twitching antennae capturing inspiration from the ether. Twenty minutes flew by as I sketched furiously trying to capture the quirky moment.

Everyone was then asked to share their musings. As Rachel read her story, I became infatuated with the way the potted Mother in Law tongue plant flamed up beside her. I enjoyed Geoff’s story about an author’s dependence on his foil cap. He claimed the cap allowed him to go where no mind had gone before. He experienced such a high from the creativity generated by the cap, that he started wearing it to sleep and in the shower. It slowly became clear that this man’s addiction to creativity bordered on insanity.

Terry managed to press the wrong button on her computer and she lost everything she wrote. Several authors helped her search the hard drive with no luck. This is another advantage of analog over digital, things don’t just disappear. After everyone had read their stories, the serious business began of drinking Funky Llama White Wine and enjoying the conversations about art and literature in the internet age. The stories and laughter lasted late into the night. Rachel gave Terry pointers on how to incorporate more dialogue in her stories. As I was walking to my truck outside, I glanced back through a window and noticed the warmth of the light as the remaining authors talked around the dining room table. One author was on the front lawn using his cell phone, the foil cap still on his head.

Silver Fern Writers Workshop

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The Silver Fern Writers Workshop (263 Orange Terrace Drive, Winter Park) is held every 2nd and 4th Tuesday of each month. I was invited by Elayne Pierson to come to a workshop to sketch. These workshops are open to anyone from a novice to an accomplished writer working in all genres. The workshop is conducted using the principles of the Amherst Writers & Artists, providing a unique setting where a writer can grow creatively while developing their craft. The workshop offers a warm inviting and encouraging atmosphere without any emphasis on right and wrong.
When I arrived I was invited to share with the group my artwork and explain how this blogging experiment came to be. I of course explained about the new years resolution that went on to change my life and about how Disney Feature Animation bought me to Florida only to close down 10 years later when executives decided people only wanted to see computer generated films. I then showed everyone the Creative Mind Experiment film I created which showcased several hundred of my sketches in a 3 minute short.
Then everyone was invited to write using my art as inspiration. I was surprised my my wife’s writing which had the added benefit of looking back over 19 years of our marriage exploring the art and our relationship.

Artist, Man, Husband or God?
I have known Tom for 23 years. I am still not sure if I fell in love with the artist or the man. Is it possible to separate the two? When I view his art I am not able to separate the hands that have held me from the hands that have held the pen and paintbrush. Tom doesn’t have four hands so I guess I just have to pick two hands. Then again, he only draws with one hand so maybe I can love the right hand of the artist and also love the left hand of the man. I am fairly certain that Tom is not a God although his German name is often mistaken for the Nordic name of Thor, god of thunder. I often think that Tom the husband and Tom the man enjoys this extra title, not only because everyone gets the name Thorspecken wrong, but also because who wouldn’t want to be confused with a god, even if it is a mythical god as opposed to a Judeo-Christian god.
I often wonder what people experience when they view Tom’s art as opposed to what I experience. I have watched Tom create images from an empty page for 23 years. My human nature of craving attention is served when I am in one of his drawings. Early in our lives together I frequently posed as a model for Tom. I was never a good model. I am too fidgety but I loved seeing myself reflected through his eyes. Nothing is more erotic than seeing yourself as a sexy figure in your husbands eyes.
What do other people see? Is a drawing fact or fiction? When I read historical fiction I believe if it is well researched, it is probably more truthful than history which has over time been told by mainly a white male perspective. If Tom draws in real time then what he draws is fact, yet since it is not a photograph and loosely rendered through Tom’s heart and mind, is it in fact fiction?—that is a rendering of an historical event that is open to interpretation?
The NYC street artist evolved into a Disney animator and has morphed back into a street artist. Albeit with many night clubs, theaters and restaurants thrown in. I suspect as the years go by I will always ask the question is Tom an artist, man, husband or god? I suspect the answer will always be elusive but be full of discoveries and joy.

-Terry Thorspecken

Tomorrow Thor will be sketching Doug Rhodehamels house warming party at Stardust Video and Coffee.

Writers Workshop – Non-Realistic Writing

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Alicia Holmes, writer in residence at the Jack Kerouac House, held an abstract writing workshop. This workshop was organized by Mary Ann de Stefano of Mad About Words. When I arrived at the Kerouac House, the writers, all of them women were already hard at work. They had been encouraged to incorporate some element of the mythical into a short story. I started sketching as everyone was writing in the living room. When I was half-finished with the sketch, Mary Ann called all the writers into the living room to share their work.
One woman wrote a story told from the point of view of a modern day Medusa. She complained of all the statues that littered her front lawn. Neighbors would stop over and admire how lifelike the statues were. Medusa, of course knew they had all been alive. She considered a plane flight to get away from her troubles, but imagined getting upset with fellow passengers and turning them all to stone so that mode of transportation was not an option. If she got upset, the plane would certainly drop from the sky like a meteor.
Kathryn Sullivan, wrote a haunting story about looking at a painting in a museum. Her mind wandered and she felt at peace as she approached the work. In her mind she imagined the work as peaceful and violent all at the same time. She felt that if she reached out, the painting might heal her. She was transfixed and drew closer. Suddenly alarms sounded and a guard asked her to step away from the painting. She had reached out and touched a Jackson Pollock painting. The painting was titled “Lavender Mist.”

7 Challenges Writers Workshop.

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Phil Deaver and Lezlie Laws hosted a writers workshop at Rollins College. The focus for the day was to address the seven challenges that face writers. There is a different energy that is felt when you work in a room full of creative people. I feel it when I sketch.
Lezlie discussed reasons she has found to avoid writing. She pointed out that she had manifested hurricanes just to keep from sitting down and facing a blank page. What she usually does however is find busy work. She knows now that if she ends up straightening up in the garage, that she should be writing. She pointed out that when a writer is not writing, they are abandoning themselves.
Phil pointed out that he sits down to write even when he has nothing to write about. If writing were easy, then everyone would be doing it. He feels that the important thing is to turn on the spigot. The first sentences he writes are often useless but if he persists they will begin to work. Once the ideas begin to form, the writer can feel a wave of happiness. Phil said that a writer should try to work longer than they usually do, to write even when the ideas are not ready and fully formed. He pointed out that the struggle adds character to the final “sketch” or narrative. Writing is often like wandering into a dark cave without a flashlight. What you don’t know will come to you. The artist needs to be open, not digging or forcing ideas into existence.
A quote was offered and I paraphrase, I treat writing like a rehearsal, I attempt to try out everything. I reject nothing. Lezlie and Phil had the students do a word association game that forced their brain to remain in the left brain mode, allowing for free association and creative thought. From a random list of words generated by the students they then assembled a paragraph and the results were surprising and strikingly visual.
Phil said that authors need to stay at the work table, if they do then everything would come to bear. If the author keeps pushing , then inspiration would come. It comes only when the author is wrestling the muse. The writer has to write about conflict. The story must deal with tensions exploring a dynamic arc. Revelations only come out of that conflict. The author must set the trap then spring it. Many authors promote an illusion by writing around the conflict. Many people are artful dodgers. A writer should not be afraid of failure, a writer should be afraid of not doing anything.

Shut Up And Write!

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Mad About Words organized this writing event called “Shut up and Write”. Mary Ann deStefano who runs Mad About Words usually hosts events where writers gather and talk about the process of writing. In some ways all this academic talk is just another form of procrastination. So Mary Ann organized this free event where writes gather and quietly write together. Besides this front room of Dandelion Communitea Cafe there were two other rooms in the back filled with writers at work. As I walked up to the cafe several writers even sat outside at the picnic tables and were tapping away on their laptops. Mary Ann said 22 people signed her sign in sheet but I am certain that many more authors came and went during the 3 hours of this writing event.
Since the room was so packed, I decided to lean against a wall in the doorway between rooms. I had to step aside each time a waitress would go by but it was worth it since this location offered me a great view of the entire front room. The interior of Dandelion is brightly colored and festive. The fellow in the foreground knew of my flickr page and I suspect he is also a blogger. A sign on the wall pointed out that the maximum occupancy is 49 people and this event made me think that maximum might be met.
Some authors left while others drifted in. A few were just here for dinner. A girl in the far corner leaned back in her chair after writing for an hour and exclaimed to her boyfriend “I have officially been productive today.” The two of then then chatted for a while before getting back to work. Patricia an author that teaches a write your life workshop that I sketched last week, came in and asked me if I wanted a tea. I had a butter cup iced tea that has an interesting creamy taste. I really liked it. To say this event was a success would be an understatement. The arts are very much alive in Orlando.

Brian Turner Poetry Workshop

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At the Kerouac House Brian Turner hosted a Ekphrastic Poetry workshop. Ekphrastic poetry is poetry that is inspired by works of visual art. Brian first spoke about his humble background. He grew up in a family of middle class intellectuals. His father used to read a book to the family at the diner table, but the family never discussed what was read. Brian put himself through college as a machinist. Later like his father he felt the need to serve his country in the military. When he was deployed to Bosnia and then Iraq he wanted need to learn about the country’s culture and ways. As a soldier he had to be keenly aware of the environment and the pace of life in the villages and towns. If the pace of life changed something was wrong.
As an exercise Brian asked all the poets to walk through the house and pick and object to write a poem about. From all these separate poems he later compiled the group poem “Tonic”.

Tonic

A lone gin bottle sitting on the headboard
labors to inspire the numbing dreams
which-out of love, like musicians
with their instruments laid down-
might serve to keep me company.

The air has turned electric-conducting
all that is about to happen. Through windows
of blue and grey-the air smells of rotten cabbage,
pond scum, rancid sweet fermenting,
stewing, the dark soul of a marriage
overcome by the hive of bees in sheet rock,
layers of winged frenzy sweetened
only by the magnolia out back.

If there’s only one thing I have learned-
not from the wandering,
not from the traveling, and
not how Aristotle said it best-
it’s how I move, most impressively,
alone. No one stretches me.

It is true. A bottle of gin is only lonely
when it is empty.

This collaborative poem was written by: Susan Shannon Spraker, B.J. Hart, Naomi Butterfield, Julie Dunsworth, Mary Ann deStefano, J. Northlake, Lorie Parker Matejowsky, Mary Elizabeth McIlvane, Kenny S. Murry, Gene Moore, Bernadette Adams Davis, and Brian Turner.