The following day my mother made a drive to Panama City to visit my sister (pregnant with her first child, a daughter) and her husband. From there, they would all make a flight to New Mexico to have Christmas with the in-laws. I was set on attending the art show at CoRK, so after walking my parents dogs, I hopped on my mother's motorcycle and made a ride back up to Jacksonville. It was a cold ride. I rode with the clear sun to my side dimming behind oaks and long stretches of marsh which lined the central Florida back-roads. The air became cold and I made a final stretch into Jacksonville from the west in the early dark of the night. I arrived to a beautifully hung show. I was humbled because Overstreet re-hung my work and made it look much better than I'd arranged it. He is very thorough. I believe most artists in the show sold paintings, I as an exception. The night progressed and the musicians began to play (this was one of the big selling points for me coming back to Jacksonville for the show- an opportunity to play). My drums were already set up. Nathan Smith was there with his wacky soundboards, and Morrison got on the mic, wailing and screaming in his 'house of gore' fashion. I got behind the drum set and played and played and played. It was wonderful fun, especially after being on a motorcycle for so many cold hours. A guitar player accompanied us for some time. His levels were too loud and it seemed like his knowledge was limited to off-tempo blues licks and metal riffs. He was bad, but with our musical verbosity, we made good parody out of it until he got tired and called it a night. The last set between Shaun, Nathan, and I was recorded. We switched instruments several times between each other and had a few laughs. It was a night that almost ended in a trip to Waffle House, though I didn't feel like hurting myself like that, so I heated a can of kidney beans and brown rice that I had stashed away and we split that three ways.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Tickets
The following day my mother made a drive to Panama City to visit my sister (pregnant with her first child, a daughter) and her husband. From there, they would all make a flight to New Mexico to have Christmas with the in-laws. I was set on attending the art show at CoRK, so after walking my parents dogs, I hopped on my mother's motorcycle and made a ride back up to Jacksonville. It was a cold ride. I rode with the clear sun to my side dimming behind oaks and long stretches of marsh which lined the central Florida back-roads. The air became cold and I made a final stretch into Jacksonville from the west in the early dark of the night. I arrived to a beautifully hung show. I was humbled because Overstreet re-hung my work and made it look much better than I'd arranged it. He is very thorough. I believe most artists in the show sold paintings, I as an exception. The night progressed and the musicians began to play (this was one of the big selling points for me coming back to Jacksonville for the show- an opportunity to play). My drums were already set up. Nathan Smith was there with his wacky soundboards, and Morrison got on the mic, wailing and screaming in his 'house of gore' fashion. I got behind the drum set and played and played and played. It was wonderful fun, especially after being on a motorcycle for so many cold hours. A guitar player accompanied us for some time. His levels were too loud and it seemed like his knowledge was limited to off-tempo blues licks and metal riffs. He was bad, but with our musical verbosity, we made good parody out of it until he got tired and called it a night. The last set between Shaun, Nathan, and I was recorded. We switched instruments several times between each other and had a few laughs. It was a night that almost ended in a trip to Waffle House, though I didn't feel like hurting myself like that, so I heated a can of kidney beans and brown rice that I had stashed away and we split that three ways.
