An American Exile: Hitting the Road

So, I began the trek, this “exile” with a mathematical problem…how do you load yourself, your spouse, three dogs and everything we would need for our three weeks on the road into the minivan without a fight. The solution…you don’t. The negotiations were fierce and traumatic–just as any situation where you are forced to give up precious commodities–but we did manage to get down to a minimum and hit the road.

Off we went! The plan is to head up through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan as we swing our way out west towards Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks. Our first stint was a short one due to a late start but we did manage to make it to Fayette where we were told of some amazing remnants of the iron industry. Driving from the Lower Peninsula into the Upper Peninsula is kind of like a time warp…almost like driving back into the 1960’s…but it is beautiful!

Everyone survived this first leg despite feeling a bit homeless and a bit restless. We parked in a rest area the first night and slept in the van. This was not the most comfortable of situations, especially with three fidgety corgis, but we made due and were able to head out rather quickly in the morning.

When we got going, we immediately made our way down the small neck of land towards Fayette and visited the historic town there that was built around the iron furnaces. The weather was beautiful and it was a great place to waste away the morning looking at the restored buildings and iron works. It’s amazing to think about all the people who lived and worked there up until the iron production shut down in 1906. I keep thinking about the phrase “eke out a living” and can’t help but wish that I was doing that right now rather than wandering the country. But, seeing this iron town, and especially the schoolhouse, reminded me of how much the “American Dream” has changed.

When I was in fourth grade, we had a social studies book entitled “The American Dream” and, for some reason, this title has stuck with me all of this time. Perhaps it was because my parents both were shining examples of how things worked in America. My dad was a self-employed roofer with no more than an eighth grade education. He had worked with the carpet company his family had come to the U.S. with before serving in World War II, he worked hard, made his living and helped to take care of his family in a kind and gentle manner. My mother, in comparison, held a master’s degree and was a female corporate executive for a pharmaceutical company. She was a tough woman who aspired to run her family in much the same way she had to survive in the corporate world…through aggressive management and intimidation. Despite their divergent backgrounds however, my folks fell in love, got married and raised a family. They both worked hard and my sister and I were provided with a solid upper middle-class upbringing. Now, as I stand and look at the re-creation of the old schoolhouse, I can’t help but feel sad at how bad things have gotten in this country and how the American dream I grew up with has been scrambled into a waking nightmare.

As we continued west past Fayette, I kept thinking about the idea of scratching out a living. Here we were, driving through some very remote communities and I wondered about who lived there, what they did for a living, how they paid their bills. I was feeling encouraged in a way, started to feel a little better. After all we were in some beautiful country and the scenery in itself was incredibly uplifting but then we stumbled across something quite poignant…and old crumbling school in the middle of nowhere. We stopped because of the site of this large decaying building and I was enjoying taking pictures until I noticed the desks through a broken out window. The symbolism of finding this remnant at this time in my travels was powerful. Was it a reminder of my decaying American dream or a metaphor for my own disenfranchisement from my career in education? Regardless, it made me feel a little unsettled again and I was anxious to keep moving west. As time ran out on our daylight, we turned into a campsite on the shores of Lake Gogebic just as the moon was coming up over the horizon. At least for now, we could settle in and not feel so homeless. It’s surprising how the wonders of hot food, flush toilets and a shower can change your perspective. Hopefully tomorrow, we can get the hell out of Michigan and push westward.

An American Exile: Prelude

How one deals with the gravity of life’s situations can say a lot about the character of that person. This one has been struggling with all that has been happening over the past several months. Sometimes, the struggle has been to stay optimistic while, at other times, the struggle has been my own apathy. I want to be pissed-off, angry…I want to be upset, to cry…I want to feel my dignity again. The trouble is that I have not been able to feel anything with any sort of intensity. Nothing so intense, anyway as to give me a signal that I’m alive. It’s as if I am a spectator of my own life. Pathetic!

By all accounts the summer has been fun. Hanging out with friends, going to baseball games, the beach, the drive-in, wine tasting…all suitable distractions to the inevitable fact that I am out of work, have no health insurance and am almost out of money. My nights have been filled with “working” dreams and my days have been filled with “what if” dreams. I relish going back to work and feeling as though I have something to contribute to the world but the longer that takes the more plausible the life of an outlaw is becoming. I just keep moving forward one day at a time from one distraction to another.

As summer begins to wane, circumstances have dictated time away from my temporary shelter, forcing me to consider options. At first I was a little unsettled to have to pick up from a situation that can best be described as a state of limbo but then considered that this could be a great personal opportunity for me. Besides being weighted down by my own problems, I seemed to also be embracing everything else that was happening in the world…the BP oil spill, an incredible economic crisis, masses of people losing their jobs and their homes, asshole politicians playing their usual games, fear mongers spreading their lies. After celebrating the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina by replaying the insanity of events that took place over and over on cable programming, I was beginning to really feel the culture of misery that has overtaken this country. No wonder why people go out and just start shooting the place up.

Having not fully developed my own plan of outlaw heraldry and not really feeling the whole gun thing (I still think guns are for pussies), I decided to go west. Why…because that was the opposite direction of the familiar. It was the direction of my own American exile. I would head off into the countryside, avoiding the interstates and really try to see what really makes America great…the land contained within it borders. My goal will not only be distraction but a journey of my own feelings and emotions to see if I can find some vibrancy and return to my former intensity.

"Conform or be cast out..."

On a dreary humid July evening, Pam and I headed in to town for a midnight movie at the historic State Theater. The Traverse City Film Festival was founded by film maker (and local resident) Michael Moore and offers a really great selection of independent, foreign and documentary films. It's definitely a staple on the list of things to do in northern Michigan in the summertime. After five summers of living in Traverse City, this was the first time we've had the chance to participate in the film festival.

After holding up in the "stand by" line for about twenty minutes, we were treated to free tickets to "Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage." Pam is not a huge Rush fan but graciously agreed to go with me to the late night screening. We settled in to our plushy seats and feasted on soda and popcorn. The really bad one-man guitar act before the movie did little to deter us and was quickly forgotten when the directors of the movie took the stage for an intro. The movie was an awesome chronicle of the bands beginnings, development and maturity within their own brand of rock music. It had a great tempo, was filled with cool footage of the band (except for some really awful "artistic" video from the eighties), and, of course, was packed with great music. At the end, the directors again took the stage for a question and answer period and the whole presentation was fabulous. And, despite some trepidation, I think Pam really enjoyed it as well.

Still, as has been the case with most of my activities this summer, this movie caused me to reflect of some of the events of the past few months. Rush really was a different kind of band who did things their own way. I can't seem to get the lyrics of "Subdivisions" out of my head. "Conform or be cast out" the song goes, and this just keeps ringing in my head. In the movie, band members comment that this represented them as artists standing up against the machine of the establishment. In times like I've been experiencing lately, it has been hard to accept my role as a misfit but am reassured that "marching to my own drummer" has allowed me to be true to myself and my passions and beliefs. I think standing up for myself and what I believe in to be a wonderful trait and not a character flaw as the powers that be would imagine. So I get cast out from time to time...but I always seem to find a way to pick myself up and come back stronger than before. Sometimes I don't know how I can take so much. Perhaps it's knowing I have an outlet for my feelings - whether it's making my own art, listening to music, or relating to stories of perseverance. In any case, it is the struggle that keeps me going and the belief I have in myself.

Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zone
Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone

Legacy...

In July, I had the privilege of donating one of my early sculptures, “A.M.,” to the collection of Michigan Legacy Art Park. If you’re not familiar with Michigan Legacy, it’s an artistic gem located on the grounds of Crystal Mountain Resort in Thompsonville, Michigan. The 30-acre park is dotted with amazing public works set a beautiful natural landscape. It is definitely worth checking out and if you get over that way, take a look at my piece (see map).

For those familiar with my work, “A.M.” was created in 1993 and has been exhibited in a number of venues representing a variety of settings. In 1993, A.M. was featured in Contemporary Sculpture 1993 at Quietude Garden Gallery in East Brunswick, NJ. The exhibition was juried by noted sculptors George Segal and Isaac Witkin and was also selected for an Award of Artistic Merit. Other exhibitions that this sculpture has been included in include: Outdoor Sculpture Exhibition (95-96) at Burlington County College in Pemberton, NJ, Between The Bridges (97) at Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park in Brooklyn, NY, and Rhapsody in Bloom Outdoor Sculpture Exhibition (05) at Luthy Botanical Gardens in Peoria, IL. The work was also written about in the New York Times by critic William Zimmer in 1993 and by critic Burton Wasserman in Art Matters in 1996. Wasserman also discusses the piece in a video program entitled “Inner Voices / Outer Forms,” which was produced by Burlington County College Media Productions in 1995.

This piece was originally created as an outdoor sculpture and was intended to contrast the structural elements of its construction against the natural elements in its surroundings. (When I originally built this piece, I was placing works in one of the many gardens on the campus of C.W. Post.) Reacting to the found object (the cast iron form at the top of the work), I utilized a combination of angular materials–bricks and angled steel–to create a rigid structure and weight that would help the arched line of the cast iron to stand out as a focal point. My inspiration for this sculpture was the idea of an oven, which to me represented change. Ovens convert things from one state to another and I found this reference intriguing as I sought to contradict nature with the work. Later on in the history of the work, I added the “5” design on the bricks as somewhat of a nod to the industrial-type abstractions of Charles Demuth. So, my original intention was to have this piece stand as a monument to the changes that we as humans force on the natural world around us and reference the “oven” as a means of effecting such changes.


Michigan Legacy Art Park Website

Has Anyone Seen My Balls?

Poor Quinn! For every young male dog there comes a time when manhood is knocking on the door. As responsible pet owners, Pam and I faithfully marched our young corgi stud to the vet for a traditional snip. But, ah!...this was no ordinary neutering. [Segway into longer story.]

The events of the past week have left me to ponder the recent turn in my life and wonder what the hell is happening to me as I grow older. Maybe its empathy with my young canine friend but the burning question on my mind is: What happened to my balls?

When I was younger, I was full of piss and vinegar–as they say–and now I can only reminisce about what it felt like to pound someone in the mouth if they got in my way. I’ve become adept at taking shit and I don’t like it one bit. While on the outside I am calm and professional, on the inside I am seething. Now I can only put these emotions into my art…a good place for it, mind you…but it is a terrible strain to put these feelings on hold until I can get in to the studio. Anyway, I have a lot to work with these days…a lot to get frustrated about, but I do miss the old days. For now, I just put in the ear pods, play something fast and hard, and hope I can get it all out before it eats a hole in me. Screw all this foolishness around me.

Back to my puppy…enough of my bitching and self-pity. How can I feel sorry for myself when my little buddy just got his nuts cut off. I was proud of the resistance he put up though…he was not going to give up his manhood without a fight. I’m not sure who was more surprised, the vet or us, but the little bugger hid his balls. This created an invested search (and some extra financial cost) but his balls were located in his abdomen and summarily snipped. Poor guy!

Now our little Quinn is suffering the consequences of his little adventure with a really bad haircut, an itchy wound, and “the cone of shame.” I, on the other hand, am left to ponder what would happen if I actually located my own balls and tried to take my life back. I wonder how that would be? I wonder how my life would be different if I were to regain my old glory and stood up for myself? I wonder if I have any fight left in me? Maybe I, too, deserve to wear the cone of shame? More to come.

Permanent Vacation…the summer 2010 version…

Well….Pam and I have survived the move out of campus housing and have settled into our temporary lodging at Tall Pines. Doug Long has been very generous in taking us in and seems to be quite entertained that he is host to a somewhat impromptu artists’ residency. We have a ton of shit stored at various locations on his property and have set up an outdoor studio in his backyard.

Actually, it’s not just an artists’ retreat for us but also the exile home of “corgi kindergarten.” The dogs love it here and feign the rustic space behind Doug’s home as some kind of wild habitat complete with running space, unique pee features and Quinn really loves the strawberries growing in the garden. (Sorry Doug!)

I’ve been extremely relieved not to have to hassle with summer camp but I do miss everyone tremendously. What a great bunch of people to work with. It has been great however to hang out with Erica Passage and Jen Teter and Pam and I are really trying to take advantage of our free time here in northern Michigan. We’ve been to the beach at Lake Michigan a couple of times with the dogs and have even had time to check out the Cherry Festival a couple of times. We’ve seen the air show, played bingo (curse you Jen Teter), eaten some really over-priced food (I guess they charge for the grease) and walked the midway. We also had the opportunity to check out the fireworks at Crystal Mountain on July 3rd and at the Cherry Festival on July 4th.

While this has been a great time for Pam and I…mostly because of the support of our friends…it is still a little stressful because we are not sure of what’s in front of us for the long term. So, in a sense, we feel as though we’ve got somewhat of a permanent vacation with seemingly no end in sight. We’re confident this will change soon but going through the process is a little daunting. So, with Interlochen in our rear-view mirrors, we’re working one day at a time and pondering the possibilities of what lay ahead for us. For now, our plan is to live in the moment and enjoy the gift we have been given. More to come!

I''m Taking my 'Stache and I'm Going Home!

This has been a very profound week for me as Pam and I closed up the yellow lake house and ended our relationship with Interlochen Center for the Arts. Commencement weekend was so great for us and it was really awesome to spend time with people that mean so much to us. It was also a nice way to bring things to a close as we look forward to the next steps in our lives.

It is not easy to sum up my time at Interlochen but I will try to do my experiences justice. I have had a great experience here with the Academy and with the Camp and am so thankful to have had the opportunity to work with so many dedicated and enthusiastic artists.

First I would like to give a nod to fellow division directors David Montee and Mark Borchelt… two extremely dedicated artists who were committed to the integrity of their art and who worked daily top bring that integrity to their students. These guys were both great role models for me and I am so thankful that I had to chance to meet them and work with them.

There were so many great people who worked at Interlochen that I doubt I can acknowledge them all. People like Tim Wade (my first boss) who was so supportive and so respectful. I have so much respect for Tim and look to him as a role model. Tim always treated me fairly and was willing to engage in a dialogue no matter how much we disagreed on a particular subject. Jennifer Wesling taught me a lot about how to deal with people in the way she worked with students. She was a great listener, was always empathetic and fair, and I learned so much from her. My friend, Doug Long, has always been so supportive and encouraging and is the essence of what Interlochen is about. Amazing people like Beth Stoner, Scott Morey, Sandra Besselson, and so many others….it has been so great to work with all of y, I can’t express my gratitude.

I have also had a great time designing and building the Herbert H. and Barbara C. Dow Center for Visual Arts. It was great fun to work with Ueli Binkert and John Dancer on this project and I am so thankful to both of them (and the team from Cornerstone Architects) for indulging me in the needs of the visual arts program and lasting impact on the visual arts at Interlochen for a long time to come. What an amazing process to go through.

I can’t continue without making mention of my faculty. People like John McKaig, Patty Smith, Amy Long, Arnie Carlson, Ann Cole, Pam Ayres, Julie Mecoli, Hartmut Austen, Jen Teeter, Rich Barlow, Kurt Eslick, Elijah Van Benschoten, Yoko Nagami were all so incredible in terms of their dedication, caring, commitment, and professionalism. These guys all believed in me and worked so hard for me that I can never pay them back. Thank you so much!

My four years at Interlochen taught me that it is people that make the difference. We have had so many talented students and it has been such a great creative environment but it is the teachers who make the difference. In this sense, I will miss interlochen incredibly. What an amazing environment to teach and work with these young artists. All of the students–summer and academy–are so awesome…it is the students I will miss the most!

So, I’m taking my stache and I’m going home. Where home is, I’m not quite sure but I am excited about the prospects of being an artist again and exploring the possibilities of living in freedom. The next few months will be exciting and filled with anxiety but I am committed to making this separation work in my favor and creating a new body of work. Keep in touch!