old people psa

Father’s Day 2019 I woke up before my church alarm to an unexpected gift.  Excruciating pain in my left eye.  This was a pain I had never felt before and my nurse wife couldn’t understand it.  Instead of going to the early “old people service” I spent the next few hours in Urgent Care.  When I finally saw a doctor, I had zero faith I would get help because the guy who walked in was the same guy who misdiagnosed me years earlier and almost sent me to a specialist for no good reason.  I’m not holding a grudge, I understand why he jumped to conclusions then, but when he couldn’t figure out why my eye was trying to kill me, he drained all my remaining faith in medicine.  

What neither of us knew on that day became much more clear in about 48 hours when my head became covered in ridiculously disgusting sores.  My eye doctor, who I have complete faith in, correctly diagnosed me with Shingles.  He called it a really bad case, perhaps the worst he’s ever seen.  

Shingles is supposed to be an old people sickness.  Grandparents get Shingles,  not 47 year old guys who are very healthy.  I’m sure my eye doctor or my wife explained it during one of the long car rides to and from doctors during the next few weeks when I couldn’t drive because my eye was swollen completely shut.  Something about the virus that causes Chicken Pox decides to hang out in your body forever and any day it gets pissed off, it chooses a major nerve and completely wrecks it.  On the surface it appears as nasty boils or sores.  Underneath the virus takes a jackhammer to your nerve causing intense pain and permanent damage in really bad cases.  

If you look at the diagram below, you’ll see one of the areas the virus likes to attack is on the top left of the person’s head (his left).  That’s exactly where it got me and that’s exactly what the boundary looked like.  Actual straight lines dividing the infected part from the uninfected part.  It was crazy.

If you’re nice, you’ll never have to worry about seeing any photos of me during this time.  They’re hideous.  Aside from looking like an actual monster, the pain was nearly unbearable.  I remember thinking that this must be what it feels like to have long needles jabbed directly into your eye sockets.  No pain medication even touched it in terms of helping.  One of the medications prescribed woke me up in the middle of the night screaming in pain feeling like someone was ripping my eye out of my head.  

In addition to the pain, I also felt like I had a terrible sickness.  I was achy and my joints hurt.  I was constantly tired.  It was a mess.  I was a mess.  

My kids had never seen me incapacitated like this.  One morning I got up and did my run with one eye open and collapsed on the bed after a shower.  That was all the activity I could muster.  I apparently dozed off and I woke to hear my son asking if I was still alive.  After a few weeks, the sores healed and I looked a little more normal.  After a couple of more weeks I could wear contacts again and resume some regular daily activities.  The eye pain continued for months.  The nerve pain continues today.  

People kept saying that I was too young to have Shingles.  At 47, I was too young to even get vaccinated against it.  Shingles didn’t care how old I was.  It was very mean to me.  The aftermath of it left me with discolored skin or scars on my head that are still visible.  It also left me with either long term or permanent nerve damage to that area of my head.  I guess we’ll all find out which it is in a few more years.  Every single day I have phantom pains that range from irritating to really painful.  I was very lucky to not lose any vision in my eye.  I knew this was not something I wanted to go through again so I started looking at options for a vaccination.  

I don’t care what you think about vaccines.  I, for one, am glad my mom dragged me to the pediatrician’s office to be vaccinated against some bad childhood and adulthood sicknesses.  At the same time, I know that some of the rare side effects of vaccines can be worse than those sicknesses.  I may even share your suspicion of “big pharma” or whatever people call it.  Anytime drugs are advertised on TV, we should all be able to see that as a very concerning problem.  Even with the whole fiasco of vaccines during 2020, I get that we all probably have feelings one way or another about vaccines.  Let me reiterate, I don’t care.  I would take a chance to never have the experience of Shingles again.  And I promise you that if you had seen me during that time or, Heaven forbid, you ever had Shingles, you would also be looking for a vaccine.

If you don’t know me well, this is where I have to tell you I don’t really go to doctors.  The reason I was in Urgent Care on that bad cruel Father’s Day is that I didn’t have a doctor of my own to call.  I wouldn’t say that I’m “scared” of doctors, but I do not enjoy going to them.  When I had to find one to do follow-up visits after the whole Shingles incident, I allowed them to do the blood tests and all the things they wanted just to prove I was fine, but I haven’t been back.  That doctor, who I liked a lot, told me they could get me a Shingles vaccine despite my age but they recommended I wait a few months to allow all of that bad stuff to get out of my system.  I was happy to wait.  

That wait flipped the calendar over into the chaos of 2020 and I still wanted the vaccine, but no one was really talking about Shingles at that time.  It was even kind of difficult to go to a real doctor’s office, so I happily waited.  That wait flipped the calendar over into the recovery of 2021 and everyone was talking about vaccines, just not the Shingles vaccine.  I wanted to travel and I knew that I would need to get the Pandemic Pokes in order to be allowed to enter other countries, so that rose to the top of my list of priorities.  

Add in a little procrastination and a whole lot of being really busy and it brings us to this week, sitting in a chair at my local pharmacy, waiting on the first dose of the Shingles vaccine.  I decided there wasn’t really a good day to do it so I just did it.  I had heard most everyone say that I would need to do it at a time when I had a couple of days to recover in bed.  The vaccine has a reputation for causing splitting headaches, arm pain and flu-like symptoms.  Never in my life have I found a good time to plan to be sick, so I filled out the form and sat in the chair.  The pharmacist was very nice and she even apologized when I flinched.  Luck for all of us, Blue was there with his phone at the ready to capture this moment.

My plan was to not change my plans.  My arm was sore as it would be with most any shot but that didn’t really affect any of my afternoon or evening plans.  I took some ibuprofen before bed but I always forget that I like to sleep on my left side so that was a bit of a challenge with the soreness.  I woke up feeling fine and went out for my regular 5k run which also felt great.  When I stopped running, I could feel the achiness in my muscles and joints.  Coffee didn’t quite fix it but I stayed active and the longer I was up and the more ibuprofen I took, the better I felt.  24 hours later and ibuprofen free, I was as back to normal as I get.

So this is your Public Service Announcement or your After School Special, because if you’re old enough to remember an After School Special, you’re probably old enough to get Shingles.  I don’t know the odds of you getting Shingles but I’m certain you don’t want them.  Especially Ocular Shingles.  And since you don’t get to choose where the virus will attack, it’s probably a good idea for you to look into the vaccine.  Whether or not you choose to get it is your business.  My job is simply to provide my cautionary tale so you can make a well-informed decision.  

(Not actually an old person yet?  Then you probably know how to set a reminder for your 50th birthday.  “Hey Siri, set a reminder to get a Shingles shot on my 50th birthday”.)

*if you'd like a more detailed description of my suffering from 2019, type "shingles" into the search bar on the desktop version of this blog

rainbows don't exist either

I wrote my Master of Fine Arts Thesis on color.  I’ve used color in my work professionally for 20 years and if you count all the years before I earned my MFA it would be closer to 50 years.  Color and I go way back.  We know each other very well.  I love color.  But color doesn’t exist.

When I tell you that color doesn’t exist, this is not the rambling of an ignorant online troll, it’s a fact based in a pretty good understanding of how color works with human physiology.  And since I haven’t had the pleasure of teaching this to freshmen art & design majors for a few years now, please allow me a moment to explain.

White light arrives in our human experience either naturally (from the sun) or artificially (from the bulb over your head).  This light contains every color visible to the human eye, along with some that are invisible.  The visible spectrum of light runs through every color humans can see from the reds to the yellows to the blues and on until you reach an ultraviolet that begins to fade from human visibility.  This spectrum or rainbow of color can also be applied in a circular diagram which is called the color wheel.  But that’s only the first part of how color doesn’t exist.

The next part is my favorite part.  This white light, containing all the colors, comes in contact with physical surfaces around us and some of the wavelengths of light are absorbed by the surface and some are rejected by the surface.  Only the rejected wavelengths of light are able to “bounce” off of the surface and are then able to enter the human eye.  This light information is processed by the rods and cones and is then directed into the filing system of our brains where the specific wavelength of light is labeled.  It is at this point that humans can “see” color.  If it still sounds to you like color exists, hang on a second.

Let’s say you’re looking at a blue chair.  That chair has some physical properties.  The chair I’m viewing is a hard wooden chair.  The chair is wooden.  I can prove this by examining the material that is both visible to my eye and has the tactile quality of wood.  I could further examine this by cutting into the chair and having a closer look at the material through a microscope.  The chair is wooden.  The chair is also hard.  It’s pretty easy to touch the chair with your fingers or sit in the chair to prove that this is true.  When my butt bones dig into the unforgiving seat after a few minutes of sitting, I’m pretty certain the chair is hard.  These are physical properties of the chair.

You may also say the chair is blue.  The chair is most certainly NOT blue.  Here’s why:  

When white light comes in contact with the surface of the chair, all of the visible wavelengths of light are absorbed by the surface except for one.  One visible wavelength is rejected by the chair.  That wavelength is blue.  The chair accepts all of the wavelengths EXCEPT blue.  The chair now contains the properties of all of the visible colors EXCEPT blue.  The chair is NOT blue.  It’s everything but blue.  

Color as humans understand it, is not a real, physical thing.  It is instead, a way of interpreting reflected light.

You should, of course, not believe everything you read on the internet so if you’re not properly informed on the science of color and this sounds fishy to you, please open a new browser window and have a little Google for yourself.  Once you understand that the above explanation is correct, come back and keep reading as we move beyond science and human physiology to something more fun.

My Instagram social circles are hilariously juxtaposed.  I’m a contemporary artist.  Imagine that social circle.  I’m also a person who grew up in and still lives in the Deep South.  Another interesting circle.  I’m a running addict so add another crazy circle there.  I’m also the friend and family member of a lot of Southern Baptist religious people.  That one is quite a circle sometimes too.  Imagine an IG feed where all of those circles overlap.  The most interesting Venn Diagram in the world is my IG feed.  

On any given day I will scroll past the latest post from my gay friend and see my Dutch running friend’s pace and time.  Next is a weird painting that I couldn’t explain to you.  Under that is a beautiful field of peach blossoms.  Then there’s the repost of a famous work of art from a museum followed by a photo of a rainbow stolen from the internet with a caption telling me that all rainbows with only 6 colors are Satanic.

Please understand that none of that was exaggerated.  I’ve seen each one of those posts on my feed from people that I know personally.  But, oh, how it gets worse if you tap the little search icon on the bottom.  I still call this the “Explore Page” but I’m not sure if that’s the correct name.  This is where I go when I’m wasting time or looking for funny videos to send to my kids.  This morning there was one of those rainbow posts and I was curious and dumb enough to tap it to read the caption.  Thankfully it was a person I do not know.  The caption was a negative statement about PRIDE month and rainbows being stolen by some Satanic agenda.  Apparently the dude posting had painted some sort of rainbow mural depicting him protecting his children from the rainbow.  Yeah, it was just was weird as it sounds.  Probably worse.  But as expected, it got even weirder in the comments.  Humorously to me, there were 666 comments at that moment.  Most were very supportive of the caption but, of course, there was that one guy who had to tell Mr. Rainbow Mural that his rainbow only had 6 colors instead of 7 colors which is the only correct rainbow.  Another commenter added that the “Biblical” rainbow has 7 colors.

So while you’re being all offended by that, please know that I was also offended, except more offended.  I guess we should talk about why.

I’m in all those internet social circles because I’m a part of each one of those social groups.  Yes, even the religious one.  Except, I need you to understand that I’m not one of THOSE kinds of Christians.  For most of you, the loud Christians are the ones you know and the loud ones are usually the ones telling you you’re wrong or that you’re going to Hell or that you shouldn’t go to Disney (remember that one?) or that you can’t shop at Target or that they are closer to God than you.  I’m not one of those.  Believe it or not, there are still practicing Christians who have learned that not everything they heard growing up was true or Godly.  These Christians love God and they actually do their best to love other humans, regardless of what the other humans do.  I’m one of those kind.  The kind that is offended when people use the name of Christianity or of God to cloak their judgment, hatred, bigotry and personal agendas.

That brings us back to being offended.  It is offensive to me that some Christians have decided they do not have to love people who are different from them.  It is offensive to me that some Christians publicly spread negative or hateful comments online about one activity they define as a sin while completely ignoring literally every other plainly stated sin in their holy text.  It is offensive to me that some Christians see people as projects instead of just seeing them as equals who need to be loved exactly where and as they are.  

But it’s REALLY offensive to me that some moron thinks that the Bible says that the rainbow referenced by God speaking to Noah after the Great Flood had seven colors in it.  Let’s forget the obvious flaw that only newer translations even use the word “rainbow” and get right into the color flaw.

The full spectrum of visible wavelengths of light includes a minimum of 12 named colors.  This includes primary, secondary and tertiary colors.  12 not 7.  And since color depends 100% on the proper working of the rods and cones in your eyes in tandem with how your brain was trained to interpret that light information, no two humans see colors exactly the same way.  This means that on a good day, when you happen to look up from your phone long enough to see a rainbow, you might see 3-4 colors in it.  And if you’re color blind or impaired, start subtracting from that.

Now we get to the other fun fact about rainbows.  They don’t exist.  They’re not real.  Rainbows are not a thing.  Rainbows are a visual phenomenon.  Much like an oasis or a hallucination, the human eye and brain combination work together to allow you to “see” something that isn’t really there.  

The science of rainbows involves a bit of math and geometry and I know when I’m in over my head so if you care to learn about how humans see rainbows, you can grab that browser window again or just click here:  https://www.popsci.com/why-rainbows-look-like/

So there, rainbows are visual illusions that involve light passing through water droplets at a very specific angle causing you to “see” a rainbow or a spectrum of colors.  The light source is real.  The water droplets are real.  Your eyes are real.  The rainbow is not.  

If you’ve read this far, you must have some interest in these topics so I feel like I should share a little more about the rainbow flag.  The original rainbow flag used to symbolize the Gay Rights Movement in the 1970s was designed by artist Gilbert Baker.  This flag had 8 color stripes and each color had a specific meaning.  The idea of using a rainbow was quite intentional.  Gilbert himself said “A rainbow flag was a conscious choice, natural and necessary.  The rainbow came from the earliest recorded history as a symbol of hope….In the book of Genesis, it appeared as proof of a covenant between God and all living creatures.”  Organizers of the 1979 San Francisco Pride parade removed two of the color stripes, not because Satan told them to, but because the pink fabric was difficult to find and they didn’t want an odd number of stripes.  

(reference:  https://parade.com/1048962/lindsaylowe/rainbow-pride-flag-meaning-history/

With this in mind, it is particularly irritating when I hear some of THOSE kind of Christians say things like “They stole our rainbow!”.  Apparently Gilbert Baker was more familiar with Genesis 9 than these ignorant people.  Genesis 9:16 states that God is speaking and says “Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.”  All living creatures.  Even the ones you don’t like.  Even the ones you don’t agree with.  Even the ones who celebrate Pride Month.  The covenant is with them too.  

Color doesn’t exist and neither do the silly little divisions we try to set up in our societies.  Different human skin may reflect slightly different wavelengths of light but it’s the same material covering the same interior structures.  Different religious beliefs, different priorities, different values, these are all just words we stick to things to categorize them and they are really just designed to make us feel more comfortable building our little fences to keep “all living creatures” out of our subculture of comfort.  

You are a human designed to live in community with all other humans.  It’s time to start acting like it.  Stop using color to divide.  It doesn’t exist.

a cool summer vacation

Do you remember when people used to go on trips and come back with a ton of slides they'd force you to watch?  For those of you not as old as me...remember when people used to go on trips and come back with a ton of digital photos they'd force you to scroll through?  

Well, this is sort of that.  If it's not your thing, you're not nosey, or you're not me in 10 years, feel free to close the window and go do something else.

For the rest of us, here's a quick recap of the family vacation to the beach...

I'm pretty sure we've finally broken the planet.  Our beach trip is always the first week of June and this is the first time we've ever been actually cold on the trip.  I'm not talking about cool breezy beach nights.  I'm talking about wearing a hoodie during the day and running the heater in the car.  The weather was crazy.  

We drove to the coast mostly in rain and the temperatures dropped as we drove.  We arrived a little early and were lucky enough to have our room ready for check in.  Violet and I walked right out to the beach and we were greeted with the beginnings of a Nor'easter.  The gale force wind was whipping the sand down the beach and it was hard to tell if it was raining or of the wind was blowing the ocean mist.  Either way, it was not a day for being outside.  

More rain the next morning meant a rainy and windy run through huge puddles and hard longshore winds, but it also meant we had time to go out for breakfast.  We tried a new place and I highly recommend "The King" with peanut butter, banana and bacon.  So good.

I couldn't stay inside on vacation so when the rain let up in the afternoon, I ventured out and was greeted by one of our fox friends.  The foxes have dens in the sand all along this stretch of beach and one of the perks of staying in this building is being able to watch them from the balconies.  This guy was chilling at the edge of the dunes waiting for an opportunity to steal some food.  He saw me.

...and then he came toward me.

...like, really close to me.  At one point, I had to step back away from him.  When wild animals approach humans, it's rarely a good thing.  This guy wasn't foaming at the mouth and attacking people, he was just a little too comfortable with people who have apparently been feeding him.  I get it, it's cool to see the fox and if you know he's out looking for food, it's probably tempting to toss him some or to see how close he'll get to you for a photo, but I also know how bad this is for the fox and his little fox family.  There were two smaller foxes who were much more timid who stayed far away from humans and ran at the slightest sound.  

I know he probably only approached me because he wanted food but, as a friend pointed out, I was raised by wolves, so maybe he just smelled a relative and felt comfortable.  He did seem to seek me out every time I went out in the afternoons and evenings.  We all kept our distance and discouraged him from getting close to people.  

So yeah, the weather was weird.  This guy was not having it either.  He looked angry and cold.

Another perk of this building is the sunset views over the marsh.  When the rain stopped, the kids and I tried to make it outside for the sunsets.

Cross Country training always begins while we're on vacation.  Violet took a month off after track and now it was time to get back to it.  She ran with me and we got a few miles together during the week.

I usually come back pretty tired from vacation.  People always ask why.  I tend to move a lot of sand with a little shovel during our week on the beach.  I know I don't have to do this, but how could I not?  There's so much sand just sitting there and no one is really doing anything with it.  I made a giant pelican on the first good beach day.

And I made a fox for the next one.  I felt it was appropriate.

Blue had a list of things we needed to do and he was a good sport about having his photo taken.  Here's Blue and Violet surfing at Broadway.

Blue and I normally go to one of his favorite restaurants at Broadway and often the ladies go to a different one.  While we were eating, the balloon lady offered to make him a sea turtle bracelet which he immediately gave to me.  I was proud to wear it.  I walked around looking for a good opportunity to give it to a child but I never found an opportunity where it wouldn't seem creepy.  In the meantime, the family was jealous of my swag.

They're trying yet another approach to that one part of Broadway that never seems to take off.  I couldn't care less, but this was a nice view.  They had ridiculous music and a weird rainbow structure that bled foam out all over kids.  I can't imagine anyone thinking that was a good idea, but there were suds-covered kids all over the place.  

One of my new favorite things is checking all the photo booth machines for stray photos strips.  I accidentally found two last year and this year I was more intentional about it.  We found these two in one night.  Jackpot!

Breakfast out has its benefits, but my favorite beach breakfast is balcony coffee and a banana.

Seriously, the first half of the week was much cooler than we are used to at the beach.  By mid-week, the afternoons got in the 70s but the breeze still made that feel cool.  On the warmest day, Violet and I got out in the kayak to explore.  We had no plan other than paddling around the inlet.

But we had all day and after we paddled for a couple of miles, we realized it was probably possible to paddle all the way out to the end of the peninsula.  We normally walk there several times during the week, but because of some bad storms last year and some heavy beach erosion, we were not able to walk there this year without a big swim.  So we kept paddling.  I should say that I kept paddling since my first mate didn't really want to paddle.  We beached the boat and then did some exploring on foot.

The exploring was worthwhile.  We found a lot of sharks teeth and enjoyed the natural beauty around us.  It was so nice.  But the paddle back wasn't so nice.  Luckily, Violet decided she wanted to make it to shore before dark, so she started being a good helper with the other paddle.  With both of us going, we made it back in half the time.  

As we approached the boat ramp, we saw the pirate ship in action.  A wild group of young pirates passed us singing clean versions of pirate songs.  Then we noticed a small boat anchored in the middle of the channel.  The pirate ship turned back and we knew something was about to go down so we paddled closer.  The kids on the pirate ship started chanting and then an old pirate in costume stood up on the little boat with a sword.  Just as he did, the kids on one side of the boat hosed him down with water cannons.  The pirate ship turned and the kids on the other side got a turn with the water cannons.  The poor lone pirate was soaked and the kids sailed off singing pirate songs again.  And yes, that's my finger near the lens.  Sorry, I'm old.

Speaking of old, I've been frequenting the Grand Strand of South Carolina since my childhood in the late 1970s and the 1980s.  With my family or with my friend David's family, we've stayed all up and down the Dirty Myrtle area in everything from crappy one-room hotels from a B-grade movie, to really nice condominiums.  David and I have walked every mile of Ocean Boulevard as well as every mile of the beach.  Many of our nights were spent at the Pavillion or in the stretch my kids now refer to as "Crazy Town".  This is an area I know well.  

As we drove to a restaurant one afternoon, Blue asked if I knew that there was a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard.  I laughed and told him there wasn't.  He said that TikTok said there was and that there was even a song about it.  I was very skeptical but who can argue with TikTok?  Within seconds, Blue had the general location narrowed down and we were off on an adventure.  

We passed what looked like a stairwell by the road and I made a U-turn and the three of us hopped out.  There was no parking without a permit so G took the car and circled around.  It seems she had no interest in a dirty tunnel in this part of town.  

Down we went and dang if there wasn't a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard.  How many times had I walked by as a kid and not even noticed it?  Blue and Violet were thrilled.  Truly, it was just a dirty walking tunnel in a questionable part of town, but there was at least the attempt to make it cooler with an aquatic mural on the ceiling, working lights and a few cameras.  The three of us laughed our butts off.  This is not an adventure you could ever plan, but curiosity gifted us a fun time.  So Lana Del Rey is right.  There really is a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard.

After meeting up with the kids' former elementary principal for ice cream, we raced back to the upper balcony to try to catch the sunset.  We had to ditch the car again and run up the stairs to make it just in time.  

Curiosity provided another cool experience, even if it was a solo adventure this time.  On my first few miles running the next morning, I noticed the turtle people gathered in a group near our building.  When they appeared to be digging, I decided to go check it out.  It was not a new turtle nest, which I often see on my early runs on the lower part of the beach.  This time it was a nest relocation happening.  For reasons only the turtle people understand, some nests need to be relocated to give the little dudes the best chance for survival.  The lady in charge was very kind and offered lots of information to me and another nosey civilian.  She carefully dug a hole about shoulder deep and then allowed a newer member of the turtle squad to place the eggs in the hole.  Then they covered it with sand, placed a protective barrier over it and around it and their work was done.  Hopefully in a few months these guys will dig out and scurry to the water.

I think with the weather and the kayaking plans, I only made three sand sculptures.  This was the last one and it was a big one.  The teeth are about 12 inches long if that helps with scale.  It's a pirate.  

Friday was our last day but Violet and I wanted to make the most of our last day.  We had so much fun kayaking the first time, we decided to go again while Blue and G went out to the beach.  It was a beautiful morning and still not too hot.  

We got a little more brave this time and paddled across the bigger water to the big rock jetty.  Violet was a toddler on my shoulders the last time we walked to the end of it.  This time she carried someone with her...a hermit crab she found at the edge of the water.  We walked all the way out and watched schools of fish jumping out of the water.  After our jetty walk, we set the hermit crab free in his own backyard and then paddled back across to our sharks teeth hunting ground.

We had another good hunt and this time we remembered to bring snacks.  

Of course, we ate the snacks too soon and after all that paddling we were starving.  When we were ready to head back we noticed a bit of a dark cloud moving our way.  It got darker and larger as we paddled.  Our arms were just like cooked noodles at this point but we kept pushing as we could see the rain coming.  We rolled up, or floated up, at the boat ramp just as it started drizzling.  Luckily, we got the kayak loaded before the real rain started.  

We had talked about getting lobster rolls earlier in the week and never got around to it.  We started thinking about lobster rolls after our snacks disappeared and soon it was all we could think about.  We were very close to a place that sold them so we ordered two and eagerly awaited our meal.  When they came out, they looked and smelled wonderful.  I thought about taking a photo but they were gone so fast.  Best meal of the trip for me.  I may have eaten half of Violet's.

It poured rain while we ate and just as we left the restaurant, there was a break in the clouds.  Violet loves mini golf and since we were the only ones left in town, we decided to chance it with the weather and try to get a game in before hitting the road. We were having a lucky day and just as we sunk our shots on the 18th hole, it started raining again.  We made a quick stop at a bookstore to get coffee and a book for Violet before heading inland.  

It's not the weather I would have picked out for the week, but it turned out to be kind of perfect.  

 

the return of sand sculpture!

That's right.  You thought the Sand Sculpture Class was dead didn't you?  Well, I did.  Some administrative changes to the way travel-related courses are scheduled made our cool little Sand Sculpture Class unaffordable during summer.  The last one was May 2021 and I guess that was a good one to end on.  But then...

I have been more actively scheduling workshops and artist-in-residence sessions with K-12 schools and my friend Kevin was working with me on ideas to bring me to Summerville to work with his kids.  As we traded emails, out of nowhere he emailed "What if we did sand sculptures?!" and it was the best idea I've heard in months.  The wheels turned, Kevin worked out all the details and a day after graduation I found myself driving towards the coast.

Kevin's literal neighbors just happen to be Monica and Eric of The Chick Inn on Main in Summerville, SC.  Remember when they commissioned me to do a big drawing for them last year?  It's a good story and you need to hear Monica tell it.  So plan your next trip to Summerville and book your stay with The Chick Inn on Main.  You will not regret it!  I'm happy to provide more information on that along with some photos if you're interested.  Monica is a runner and as we planned our visit, we had to get a run in together.  That's Monica and Katherine after our early morning 5K.  What was Katherine doing there?  Good question...

Hannah, pictured here with her new chicken friend, is a veteran of the Sand Sculpture class.  In fact, she was on the last one in 2021 along with Kennedy, Amber, Ashley and several others.  When Hannah heard I was going to do a one-day Sand Sculpture class with high school students, she, Ashley and Katherine quickly planned a girl's trip to coincide with the class.  We were also lucky that my former student Tien's solo exhibit at Public Works Art Center was happening on the night before the class so we all got to go to her reception as well.  Serendipity.  By the way, that's a real chicken.  The Chick Inn on Main has a lot of real chickens and Hannah wanted to hold one.

After our run and after a really good breakfast and chicken photo, we all drove out to Beachwalker Park on Kiawah Island, just south of Charleston.

When the students arrived, I gave an introduction and a few instructions to get started.

It felt so good to be back in the sand.  The shovels and buckets were lonely in my basement.

And these students got to work immediately.

That's Kevin Morrissey holding the jellyfish.  He's an amazing superhero of a teacher and these students probably have no idea how lucky they are to have him.  Kevin and I went to the same college, drive the same car and share the same barber.

Katherine and Ashley working hard on the cat/mermaid sculpture.  Hannah was carrying water.

The students were really doing great.  They were prepared with good ideas and they worked at a reasonable scale for the time we had.  

As usual, I wasn't as prepared with an idea of what I was going to make.  I piled up sand as part of the introduction and opted for a skull to show a few of the different approaches.  After moving a bunch of sand, I decided to carve "Fort Art" and use it as a photo opp for the students.  Fort Art is the art slogan for Fort Dorchester High.

Speaking of moving sand, after a few minutes of working with our shovels, the park guy came out and told us that there was a rule against using metal shovels on the beach.  He was kind enough to go buy us a box of heavy duty plastic shovels.  

After the shovels and packing, it was time to do details.

Kevin brought a lot of students and Stephanie brought a few of her photo students.  The added bonus was that Mini Me got to come along with her students too.  This is Elizabeth Estes, formerly the Queen of Sculpture (long may she reign).  Elizabeth is my fictional long lost daughter and was my sculpture worker for a few years.  It was really cool to see her interacting with her students and being awesome.  

After about 3 hours, students started finishing up.  This was a giant Toothless dragon.

Abigail lives in Summerville and she also came out to join the girl's trip.  The four of them made a great example sculpture.

This one was a turtle.

This was the Mount Rushmore of Marvel.

This was a manta ray strong enough to hold a person on its back.  They all did a really good job.  It was a very successful day.

Everyone was bummed that we had to flatten out the sand before we left, but that faded quickly when they realized they got to destroy the sculptures in fun ways.  Stephanie took most of these photos and this one really captures the joy well.

Kevin and Abigail both suggested the Blackbird Market for a late lunch.  The bus went to get ice cream and we stopped to eat before heading back upstate.  

For me this was, of course, a lot of fun, but it was also a successful experiment.  Now I know that it is possible to do a one-day Sand Sculpture class with high school students when the high school is within an hour of the beach.  I will definitely be adding this to my list of offerings for workshops and classes.  

And don't forget we do beach weddings too!  Hit me up!