Empty House

Remember my buddy Jim? Last weekend, the two of us went to the Celtic festival in Dayton and watched some bands and strolled around looking at everything for sale in the booths. On the main stage was a fantastic band named Gaelic Storm. They had thousands of fans watching them. The fans knew all of the songs and sang along with the band. They were packed in like sardines, and acted like they were not in sweltering heat. Everyone was having a great time.

After that experience, we walked to one of the small stages and came across this unknown band. To my ears, they sounded just as good and they were just as professional. The big difference? They didn’t have a soul watching them perform. The big headline act had sucked up everyone into one massive seething ball of sweaty madness.

I kind of felt sorry for these guys. They even introduced the members of the band to an empty house. If the organizers of the festival know that Gaelic Storm always sucks up everyone around, why book bands on two other stages at the same time?

Reach

There are times when you should reach for the sky. Go for it. Pursue your dreams. Reach. Stretch. You can almost feel the moment when you accomplish everything you’ve been working towards. Then you realize you are a light pole and that you are anchored to the ground. Not only that, your bulbs are all burned out and you can’t even offer illumination to those that gather to watch your effort.

Other times, everything works out just fine. Mission accomplished. Piece of cake. What’s next? You just never know. So, reach and stretch. This just might be the time you succeed and make a difference. It could happen.

He Looked Hungry, So I Fed Him.

Stencil of a cat on a brick wall.

We’ve all been struggling with the loss of Jodi’s mom back in January. So, it was nice to have a happy memory of her pop into my mind last night. Roberta had a way of collecting cats. I would come home to find a new cat, that I didn’t recognize, sitting in my kitchen after I came home from work. I would ask her why there was a strange cat in our house and she would look at me with all seriousness and state “He looked hungry, so I let him in and fed him”. Soon enough, the cat had a name and was added to our permanent collection of cats. We only wanted one cat, and Jodi got me Sabi for Christmas one year. Now our collection of cats includes; Sabi, Betty, Jacky, Cooper, Oona, Elle Belle, and Riley. So, what does all of this have to do with my memory?

Last night, Jim (You must remember my friend Jim, we shoot together all of the time.) and I went to the Celtic Festival in Dayton. Along the way, we decided to stop at a Dayton favorite, Thai 9 for dinner. Jim went in to get a table and I parked the car…three blocks away. On the walk back to the restaurant, I spied this stenciled cat on the side of a building. I instantly thought…”he looks hungry…” and started to laugh. Roberta may not be with us in many ways, but in so many ways, she still is.

Have a great day folks.

American Kitsch

American Kitsch

Here in Springfield, Ohio, we have a little piece of crazy American oddness called the Hartman Rock Garden. I can’t explain it, except to say that decades ago, one man decided to teach his grandchildren about american history through concrete and stones. Throw in a little bit of glass and some ceramic figures and you have it. You can learn about the rock garden here: http://hartmanrockgarden.org/visit.html.

Is kitsch like this only an American phenomena, or can it be found world wide? If you a have some fascinating kitsch in your back yard, tell us about it in the comments.

Have a great day folks.

Diego

Kahlo and Rivera 1

I only know by name three Mexican painters. Frida Kahlo, her husband Diego Rivera, and José Clemente Orozco. I can pic their faces out in a crowd of photographers. I know of the tumultuous multiple marriages between Kahlo and Rivera. That’s all I know. I’ve never even seen any of their paintings in any museum that I’ve visited. Until two weeks ago when I visited the Detroit Institute of Arts with some friends.

There I saw a massive fresco painted by Rivera at the invitation of Henry Ford. Known as Rivera Court, the fresco covers four walls and took the painter 11 months to complete. It took me an hour of staring to take it in…all 27 panels. A professed Marxist, Rivera’s mural focuses on the industry and the workers of Detroit. It’s impressive.

Now to find some work by Kahlo and Orozco. A trip to Chicago will be in the works (fingers crossed) this fall, so I’ll make a point to see if they have some examples of their work at the Art Institute.

That is your culture for the week, folks. Have a great Sunday.

Kahlo and Rivera 2

In the Silence

Carriage Hill-0531

In the silence…

The clock ticks on, without tiring, like the metronome to the tune of my life. Tick Tick Tick. A constant, dull beat.
I can hear the creak of my chair as I rock back and forth, sewing the button holes on my new dress.

An errant mouse scurries beneath the bed in the next room. Oblivious to the activity below, the cat sleeps quietly on the bed.

The kettle on the old wood stove steams away, letting me know the temperature of the oven by the sound of its whistling breath.

The house is quiet and in this moment, I can hear myself think. Good thoughts. Memories past and plans for the future.

The silence is good. It calms me and fortifies me for the day ahead. If I could, I would stay here…in this moment…in the silence.