why do i suck?

There I was, minding my own business in front of my computer.  Just a regular day at school, nothing special.  I had just gotten the hang of my fall semester classes again after about 3 weeks and was feeling like everything was getting more under control.  I was checking emails and carefully reading through them from the top down.  I’m sorta weird about my inbox.  I need the email to remain “unread” until I’m ready to answer it or do whatever it’s asking me to do.  If I don’t keep it “unread”, it will quickly disappear into the abyss of old mail and I’ll wake up in a cold sweat three months from now when I remember that I didn’t answer it.  So I respond to one email and then read the next one.  It’s just an email advertising a call for art for an upcoming exhibit, but it sends a sharp chill up my spine.  Instantly it hits me.  I don’t have any art out on exhibit right now.  Does that mean I suck?

If you follow my nonsense here or on Instagram, you know it was a busy summer.  I had work in several national level juried exhibits all across the country and I did three exhibits in Summerville at once.  For most of the summer, I was very busy making lots of new art, shipping art to exhibits and installing a big immersive solo exhibit.  In the academic world of art professors, that’s a good year’s worth of accomplishments and it happened in the course of a few weeks.  But there, in front of a new call for art, it hit me.  You’re doing nothing now.  You must suck.  

Have I ever told you about my friend David Lancaster?  We became best friends in 4th grade after “hating” each other in 3rd grade.  It’s a long story and we’re already chasing a distracting story reference, so just go with it.  David became a great friend and we spent all of our available time together in school.  Beginning in the summer of 10th grade, we also began taking family vacations to the beach together.  One summer in the 1980s, we stayed with his grandparents at the ocean front Holiday Inn in south Myrtle Beach.  It was next door to a water slide and the smaller pavilion and there was pop radio music blaring from speakers all day and all night.  During this particular trip, “What Have You Done For Me Lately” by Janet Jackson was popular and it’s the only song I can remember playing during that entire trip.  It’s one of those annoying ear-worm things and I never really liked the song.  Because of the weirdness of my brain wiring, when I have a moment like the one in front of that email, that song plays in my head.  I can hear the canned music and her staccato lyric “what have you done for me lately?”  It’s not a pleasant experience and it only adds to the anxiety I felt that brought the lyric to mind in the first place.

I think about that lyric often when I think about social media and the idea of being a productive artist in the digital age.  

My brain speaks:  Maybe you did a year’s worth of stuff in a few weeks, but why aren’t you in a show right now?  What shows do you have coming up?  You don’t have any shows coming up.  Does that mean I suck?  Am I even still an artist?  Why is it so easy to feel like a failure?  Why is it so easy to forget all the positive experiences and just focus on the fact that all my work is sitting in my studio?  And did you see that so-and-so has a show somewhere now?  Why isn’t that you?  Have you applied for anything recently?  Am I even doing enough?  You got rejected so many times.  Why do I suck so bad?  (Yes, I realize I switched back and forth between I and you…it’s my brain talking and it’s also a part of me…go with it.)

I’m a pretty rational person and after a few minutes I will calm down and realize that professionally speaking, I’ve already had a great year and it’s only September.  But do other people know that?  I mean, if we’re all just relying on social media to know what’s going on, do people even remember that I did something a week ago?  I mean, I can generally get to a rational place in my own head and be honest about my accomplishments but what if other people don’t see that?  Or what if they don’t remember?

We’re all living in that Janet Jackson lyric now.  The news cycle is now down to being about a day long, and that’s if only one big thing happens in a day.  And for artists, a day isn’t very long.  It’s really great that you got that big opportunity or award.  You’ll get a few likes and comments about it and then, a day later, you’re old news.  What have you done for me lately?

I see this in my artist friends as well.  One good friend had an exceptional run of exhibits and awards and a couple of weeks later told me how bummed they were about their artwork and lack of upcoming exhibits.  Here’s the funny part:  I fussed at them for being ridiculous.  I listed all the big accomplishments I could remember off the top of my head and the list was pretty long.  Then I told them they had selective memory and that they needed to be kinder to themselves.  I encouraged them to keep a list of their accomplishments along with a list of kind things people said about their work and to review those lists frequently to keep things in proper perspective.  It’s good advice, right?  

I guess I need to take my own advice.  

And I need to get that stupid song out of my head.

TSITP but for dads

Let me preface this by admitting I have not read the book The Summer I Turned Pretty.  As a 53 year old man, I understand that I am not the preferred demographic and I only watched the streaming series because a couple of students twisted my arm and my 16 year old daughter said we should watch it together while she recovered from surgery.

So, there I was, sitting in my spot on the couch with a small dog sleeping beside me, my daughter sitting in the recliner and The Summer I Turned Pretty streaming on the TV.  We were pretty deep in the first season, maybe even starting the second season when my daughter looked over at me and said, “It’s no fun watching this with you because you’re such a dad.”  We both erupted in laughter.

She was right and I had realized that just before she said it.  She made me rewind a couple of parts she thought were emotional and she watched me sit through each part again completely stone-faced and unmoved.  There she was, on the verge of tears and there I was looking at a male lead character and calling him a loser.  

Violet read the book a few summers ago and think I recall some excitement from her when the show started airing on a streaming service.  I didn’t pay much attention and certainly had no desire to watch a young adult romance series.  In the summers since, she and I have watched a myriad of things, some sarcastic, some serious, some goofy and some romantic.  I’ve kept an open mind to most of her suggestions, even watching a buddy comedy movie starring SZA recently.  (It actually wasn’t bad.)

When I told her that a couple of students had suggested I watch it, she pounced.  This was going to be our new show.  She cued up the first episode and I agreed to give it a chance.  A couple of weeks later, we were all caught up and waiting on the next episode to drop.  It was clear, however, that we were not watching the same show. 

At 16 and female, this story was written for her.  I can suspend my old male-ness enough to understand why this story appeals to teenage girls.  The two lead male characters with abs are easy on the eyes and have just enough personality to pass as romantic interests.  The girl is young in every way and seems pleasant enough in the first episode.  It’s immediately obvious where this is headed.  

I’ll assume you’ve seen it or read it, but I’ll try not to spoil anything.  

Conrad is one of the guys, the oldest of the two brothers.  He’s brooding and troubled and while I see that the girl is into him, I can’t help but see Conrad through the eyes of the father of a teenage girl.  Brooding, red flag.  Troubled, red flag.  Smoking pot and underage drinking, red flag, red flag.  I see this guy showing up at my door to date my daughter and I would send him packing.  At the very least, I’d put the fear of God in him.  

The other brother is no better at the beginning and the more we learn about him, the more red flags he collects.  I would actively try to talk my daughter out of being interested in either of these goons.  “I majored in beer-ology!”  Really, dude?  Grow up and stay away from my daughter.  

We often speak up during these shows, laughing and making jokes with one another.  I do not hold back, hoping to use these as teaching moments.  I point out the character flaws, the red flags and warning signs in the hopes that Violet will notice them in real life when she sees them.  She is quite aware but she’s also obviously “team Conrad”.  There’s no arguing this with her.  I point to the flags and shut up.  And admittedly, the writers tried to make him more respectable in the third season.

But wait, who’s this other guy?  An actual nice guy enters the story.  One with no immediate red flags.  He’s kind, genuine and honest, and of course, within a few episodes he’s dumped.  He’s Cam Cameron, every dad’s dream guy, but no match for the forces of teen drama character tropes.  I call attention to Cam Cameron and Violet just smiles and says, “Well, yeah”, totally not interested in this guy she knows is just a side salad.  I declare my love for him and she tells me I’m not going to be happy with what happens to his character.  But she doesn’t need to tell me.  I already know.

Cam Cameron suffers the fate of every “nice guy” by losing out to the local brooding “bad boy”.  I mean, on one level, I can understand why some young ladies want to run after the troubled hot guy so they can save him and turn him into a decent guy.  But on another level, why buy a fixer-upper when there’s a move-in-ready dude who’s already actively courting you?  Cam Cameron will make you a better person by being an equal partner.  He will make sure the rent is paid, he’ll pick up the kids from school and he won’t forget your birthday (or your corsage).  The fixer-upper will always have his own drama and the lady will always be a side character in his life.  By the way, I don’t have unresolved bitterness from young love, you do!  Can you tell that an ex once dumped me because I was “too nice”?  Too nice?  Like, you wanted me to be mean to you?  So, yeah, maybe I’m a bit triggered when Cam Cameron just disappears from the story after never doing anything except helping everyone around him and making everyone’s lives better.

I guess nice is so unromantic, right?  It’s better to have abs than a decent personality.  I know, I know, that’s not what Jenny Han was trying to communicate to a generation of teens, but dang, it’s pretty well implied.

I love a good happy ending and I fully expect the unlikeable lead female to end up with the lesser of the two evil brothers.  That’s the ending this story suggests we need to feel good at the end.  But where’s my sequel where Cam Cameron finds a woman who realizes that he’s actually the best guy in town?  Where he finds his pure love totally reciprocated and where he gets his story told?  You know, about how it actually pays to be nice and treat women with respect?  How good guys win in the end.  And how “love” and “romance” is more than drama and tears.  Maybe we even see the reality of Belly’s “happiliy ever after” and we see her in her 50s, still babysitting the emotional child she married while Cam Cameron and his wife walk barefoot down the beach holding hands.  

This is why dads shouldn’t watch teen romance.  Team Cam Cameron for life.

7 years of streaking

Yeah, so this one is about running.  I understand if you’re not interested but I’ll also make you a promise.  If you do a particular thing, on purpose, every single day for 7 years and then you write about it, I promise I’ll read it.  Even if it’s not my thing.

When I moved to the Middle of Nowhere, running was a normal, regular thing for me.  At the old house, it was easy to walk out the door and start running down the little neighborhood streets.  When we moved to 10 acres of grass and trees, I wasn’t sure where I would feel safe running.  I worried I might have to drive somewhere to run and that would be a lot of extra time.  The first day after we settled in, I looked around the “yard” and decided I could just try running around the perimeter of the property and see how far that was.  I found my way to enough laps to make a 5K run and then got up the next day and did it again.  

It's funny how big things sometimes start without any fanfare.  Those two consecutive runs were the first days of my 7 year, 2 month running streak.  My plan was to keep running as long as possible.  While I endured and persisted through all sorts of crazy weather and personal events, in July 2018, I had a surgery that forced me to take off my running shoes for 4 weeks.  On August 17, 2018, I had my follow up visit and the surgeon told me I could go home and run, but to take it easy.  All I heard was that I could run.

That was one of the best runs of my life.  I remember running in the heat of the afternoon and feeling the warm air flow around my bald head.  I felt so free, so happy.  Then I ran the next day.  Then the next.  

Soon, I was training for a half marathon, then a full marathon, and then another half marathon.  My training plans called for “rest days” which for me just meant a simple, easy 3.1 mile run.  Relatives worried that my knees would fail.  Running friends worried that I should actually be resting on rest days.  Immediate family thought I was crazy.  Those, however, were the easiest days to run.  

The hardest run I can (somewhat) remember was during the time I was suffering through Ocular Shingles in 2019.  Basically, I ran with one eye open, excruciating pain in the other eye and open sores on one side of my head, then collapsed on the bed and slept.  I barely remember running for a few of those days but I do remember it was my only activity other than sleeping in a dark room.  

Since then, I’ve run in all the conditions and I've even run with my students or my kids during extra mileage runs.  I get to do Cross Country summer conditioning with my kids’ school team and this is all in addition to my morning 5K run.  That run is sacred.  I run alone in the morning 99.9% of the time.  If you’ve run with me on a morning run, you’re part of a super rare group.  And while I’m sure I loved running with you, I need to run all those other runs on my own.  

There’s science to prove all of this is true, but here’s the anecdotal information:  Running is a time of meditation for me.  I pray for people, I plan my day, I solve major global problems and I have all sorts of discussions and conversations with people who are not even around.  I know that sounds like I talk to myself and essentially, that’s what’s happening, but it’s really just thinking out loud because no one is around to hear.  All this allows me to begin my day having accomplished a task that most humans are not even capable of doing.  It allows me to start my day with a clear head and a plan.  It allows me to solve problems and feel much less anxious.  It also keeps my heart rate up for about 30 minutes which keeps my circulatory system healthy.  My lungs stay conditioned to get oxygen where it needs to be under physical stress.  My muscles and limbs stay healthy and flexible.  At 53, I’m feeling pretty good and not many people can keep up with me literally or figuratively.  

There’s no one thing that running every day has taught me.  In fact, I could easily argue that running every day has taught me everything I know about life.  When people find out that I run every day they sometimes use words like discipline, commitment, mental strength and insanity.  The word that keeps coming up in my life, though, is consistency.

I am probably faster than you, but I’m not a super-fast runner.  I’m lucky if I place in my age group at a race and if I win, it’s because the faster person just didn’t show up that day.  I don’t know a lot about running.  I put on my shoes and I start running.  That’s the extent of my knowledge.  But in every single area of my life, I know that consistency is what’s most important.  Not being fast and not knowing a ton, just showing up every single day.

If you find consistency in your life, you will be successful in whatever you do.  You may not be the best or know the most, but if you’re willing to just show up every single day and do the thing, you’ll find more success than most.  The thing is, most people won’t try it because it’s hard.  

Is it hard to run in the heat of August or the cold of January?  Only a little.  I love cold weather running.  Is it hard to run in a hurricane or at 3am before an early appointment?  Sorta, but it’s also kind of awesome.  My hardest runs are when it’s pouring rain and I can hear it from inside.  I hate rain and I don’t like having wet shoes.  The first few steps in the rain suck really bad.  I usually make audible noises of disdain.  But then, I’m wet and I just have to run 3 miles and I can get out of the rain and have coffee, so I start splashing in the puddles and flinging mud all over my legs.  It also feels a little badass to be running in the rain, not gonna lie about that.  And all of it is easier when you do it every single day.  

Today, I got up and ran on my 7 year runniversary.  2,555 days in a row.  My running app says that since 2011, I’ve run 17,405 miles.  In two months, if things keep working well, I’ll match my longest streak ever.  I know that running isn’t for everyone but how could I love something so much and not encourage others to try to discover that same love?  I think you should give running a try.  I think you should run every day.  I think it would solve most of your problems.  Will it be hard?  Will you feel like you’re actually dying?  Yes, absolutely, but you probably won’t die and if you stick with it, you’ll look and feel better than you ever have.  But if you won’t run, I encourage you to find some physical exercise that you can do consistently.  Do it when you’re tired, do it when you’re busy and do it especially when you don’t want to.  I want you to be physically and mentally healthy and I want you to feel the power of consistency.  

(If you're interested in starting running for real, you can find a post on this blog by searching "running tips" and it will help you get started and not quit.)

the summer i turned busy

 I look forward to summer break with the innocence of a child.  I daydream of sleeping later, waking without an alarm, having long, luxuirous days of sunshine on a beach and having zero responsibilities.

I'm old enough to know better, but as the spring semester started to wind down and classes ended, I had these fantastic visions of a carefree summer.  Yeah, so here's what happened instead...

As is the case with many public art projects, approvals and schedules do not always work well with the school calendar.  MG and I had been working on a project that didn't get started before classes ended, so we just kept working in the studio after the semester ended.

I got the pleasure of helping Katherine deliver her solo exhibit to the Spartanburg County Public Library Headquarters in April.  It was such a great exhibit featuring all of her recent, amazing steel sculptures.  There was even a very cool 2D component she didn't quite have time to set up.  Looking forward to seeing that in the future.  So proud of her.

MG and I had to take a field trip to Highlands, NC to pick up our sculptures from the Emergence exhibit at The Bascom.  Always up for a fun adventure, we took a thrift tip from Zach and ended up trying on fur coats.

My on-campus Starbucks friends kept kidding with me about not having a summer break because I kept coming back after the semester ended.  Each time I vowed to not see them again until August.  They laughed each time and said "We'll see you tomorrow!".  Eventually I was right and now I miss them.  

But I wasn't right yet.  I walked into the Sculpture studio to grab something and was stopped in my tracks by the emptiness.  That's where Dae Dae and MG lived for a few years.  Absence is always stunning.  I missed them already.

But even though MG's stuff was gone, I still had MG for another day, working on the public sculpture project.

But then she cut out for a summer job in Georgia and left Blue and me to install these by ourselves.  This is the site of the old textile mill in Nintey Six, SC.  This is the old turnstile used by workers to enter the mill each day.  MG and I created two period costumed textile workers for the memorial site.  Once this was finished in late May, my trips to Greenwood were over for the summer.  

While I don't get the romantic version of summer break I dream of during the spring, summer does come with it's inevitable perks.  Waking without an alarm on most days, and spending quality time with my army of hummingbirds are two of my favorites.

I also prefer to run in daylight so I can see the wildlife around me and not trip over roots in the dark.  I really love my running time every day and summer usually allows me to run with things other than school on my mind.  It's nice.  Sure, it's hotter and sweatier, but I would still choose to run in daylight.

And when I thought I was done driving to school for summer, I did make one last trip to give a public art tour to the SC Arts Commission.  This was a fun morning of sharing my students' art and our vision for public art.  Lots of fun and well worth getting up early and running in the dark.  This was my last trip to Greenwood.  Ish.  (I did drive back for the BBQ Festival, but how could I not?)

Another thing I look forward to with romantic zeal is having more time to make art.  My dreams of making a whole new body of drawings and sculptures started out pretty strong because I had so many exhibits on the horizon for summer.  I felt the pressure to make a lot of new work and I did create a ton of new drawings.  So after sleeping until 7 or 8 am, I would run, have coffee and then sit at my drawing table for a few hours listening to music or podcasts.  Some days I did this until dinner time.  

I got into several exhibits for summer.  Some of these I had a few months to prepare for and some happened a bit more quickly.  One of these meant taking a day trip to Charleston to deliver a drawing.  Summer often means me taking some solo art trips.  This is more time listening to music or podcasts and sometimes some exploring.  I get to Charleston pretty often so it's not so much exploring as it is trying to decide which of my favorite places I have time to visit.

One of the biggest summer events is our family beach vacation.  This is probably my biggest personal reset of the year.  I get a week of waking up when I want, which for some reason, is usually around sunrise at the beach.  That's too early normally, but I don't complain about the running views.

In fact, I don't complain about much of anything on vacation.  If we get sunlight, I'm happy.  We spend our days on the sand and our afternoons and evenings looking for food and adventures.  

We got to kayak in the open ocean a couple of times, I got my warm, buttery lobster rolls and my balcony coffee.  We could have complained about our dogs getting really sick at home and G having to go back home in the middle of the week to take them to the vet and get medicines but we didn't.  We were just glad the dogs were ok and that the dogsitter didn't quit on us.  

Violet and I left vacation but didn't go home.  Instead, we drove really early to the Isle of Palms for a sand sculpture contest.  We met Cathryn and Elena and their parents there and spent a few hours working in the hot sun.  We won an award, got our prizes, ate some lunch, and then parted ways.  

The next day we realized we were all still hanging out in Charleston separately.  Cathryn and Elena got caught in the rain.

And Violet and I ducked into the Visitors Center and had a guy draw our portraits while we waited for the rain to clear.  Then we walked to our favorite Cafecito for Cuban coffee and empanadas.  When we realized C and E were still around, we invited them to the art reception we were staying for that afternoon.  

Elena and her mom had just left to go home but Cathryn and her parents were staying another night so they all met us there.  We got to make fun photos with the art.  

Then Violet and I got to return home and we had what was probably the "intermission" of my summer.  The first act was over and we had about three weeks to prepare for the next really busy time of being gone and doing things.  So while I worked to finish drawings and begin planning for exhibits, we also got to meet Donovan and his family for coffee.  Donovan is now a PUBLISHED poet with his book coming out soon.  His family is adorable.  They're based in Nashville, so it's a treat to get to coffee with him.

The dogs always provide a smile in my day.  Walter is a happy menace and Timmy loves to hate him.  This was a rare moment of both dogs coexisting on top of some freshly dried running socks.  They love laundry.

Being at home around sunset is also a nice summer thing.  We often have dinner after cross country practice and then we're mostly done for the evening.  The sky gets a little weird some nights while we eat and we all head outside to see if the sky is pretty.  Much of June and July, it was pretty and worth the trip outside.

One of those intermission days, I got to help Katherine uninstall her solo exhibit and transport her work back home.  It was nice to catch up on what had already been a busy summer for us both.  

I also got two drawings into the "Everything But The Kitchen Sink" exhibit in Los Angeles.  This is one of my favorite exhibits in such a cool gallery.  This year, Molly, who lives down the street from the gallery, was able to go to the reception and she sent me some photos.  

This was the sunset she saw on her walk back home.  

I also got to spend some time with my blooms this summer.  I love flowers and really love the ones that grow without a lot of help or input from me.  I just get to enjoy them.  

The summer drawing schedule doesn't require me to work late into the night.  This freed me up to watch some TV.  Most nights after dinner, you can find the kids and me watching at least one show together.  G will stay if it's not something completely silly.  Some nights Violet and I play music together.  Then, after everyone disperses to their own areas for the night, Timmy and I will find something to watch.  Nevaeh had me watching some horror movies this summer but between those, I got to watch The Righteous Gemstones and Vice Principals.  That's when I caught the briefest glimpse of one of my outdoor sculptures in a scene with Walter Goggins at Riverfront Park.

The craziest of crazy things happened.  My friend Creighton is in a band and when I saw they were coming to the Peace Center in Greenville, about 30 minutes from my house, I marked the calendar.  When Violet and I went to the will-call both, the lady handed us tickets and two stickers that gave us backstage access after the show.  We were stunned.  We enjoyed the concert (where I saw a couple of Lander colleagues nearby and at least three former students) and we sat beside a lady who befriended Violet and started showing her photos of her boyfriend who was also the lead singer.  After the show, we got to hang out with the band backstage where it was painfully obvious that we were not cool enough to be having this experience.  Creighton is an amazing person and friend.  Such a cool night.

I also got into another exciting exhibit in Atlanta at Kai Lin Gallery.  I was really happy about this one too.  

In addition to running, I also do weekly PiYo, a combination of Pilates and Yoga.  This really helps my back flexibility and strength and I also think it makes me faster as a runner.  I know it's a weird zen diagram to be a fitness person who is also a creative, but when your creative process involves a lot of strength and movement, I think it's crucial to good health and longevity.  And since this summer was so busy, that leads us out of intermission and into the second act.

As I've detailed here recently, I left in the middle of July for a week long stay in Summerville, SC to install three exhibits at Public Works Art Center.  This included a string of very long days going up and down a ladder, carrying art around, crawling around on the concrete floors and engaging my brain almost every hour I was awake and some of the hours I was supposed to be sleeping.  

You can find details about that trip over there in the margin or by scrolling down to earlier entries.  But the end result was wonderful.  I'm very happy with all three exhibits and I hope you get to experience them in person.  Shows end September 6.  

As soon as I got home from Summerville, it was time to put all my energy into the Summer Studio Sale.  

That week was a blur, but apparently I got it all done with some help and the sale went great.  I got up the nerve to do my first temporary tattoos with the cool pens.

This was a huge step for me.  I've had these pens for years (literally) without getting up the courage to open them and draw on anyone.  Thinking about my current body of drawings and interests, I joke with myself that eventually I'll just be drawing on humans instead of wood, I'm just not sure if that's a joke anymore.  

Anyway, so that was crazy and busy and fun, but then in just a few more days, I had to load up for my next trip.  Once the car was loaded, I went to see Ryan Adams in Greenville.  It was great.  Loved it.  

Then I got up early the next morning to run and then drive to Chapel Hill, NC to install "Phoebe" for the UPROAR! Festival of Public Art.  

I had to be around for a few days and you can read all about that in an earlier post as well, but I got to see some art.

I got to be in a puppet parade that I didn't design.

And I got to see Kathe and Tom, two of my living heroes.  

Our end of summer family vacation turned into G just going to Charleston alone and allowing me to drive down after my stay in Chapel Hill.  In my head it was just a little drive down I-95.  On my map it was more like a 5 hour drive down I-95, mostly in the rain.  

But who doesn't love Charleston?  Even in the rain.  The weather kept it cooler than it's ever been in Charleston in August and I won't complain about not being immediately drenched in sweat 5 seconds after walking outside.  I will complain about my shoes and socks getting wet, but that was just one day so it was fine.  We had a nice trip and ate so much good food.  I had to run a lot extra to make up for that eating, but all worth it.  

On my Summerville trip, I was inspired by two friends who spent every evening outside on their front porch.  To a Southerner, that sounds romantic until you factor in humidity, heat, sweat and mosquitos.  These friends seemed to have found the cheat code and that was a big fan.  I decided to give it a try and I ended up finding my new favorite summer thing.  Porch sitting.  Some of my summer days and nights were so busy that this happened at 11:30pm with a hot tea.  Other times it was just after dinner with a refreshing drink.  Some nights I chose the porch over TV.  I did get some mosquito bites, but with the weird weather lately, I also spent some of those nights in front of the fan wearing a hoodie.  And when I could keep the phone out of my hand during this sacred time, it was all the more relaxing.

These are the Superfriends according to the group chat name in my phone and based on my experiences with them over the last 15 years.  We've trauma bonded together as first year Lander-ites, traveled the world together as pals, and been through all sorts of adulting decisions, twists and turns.  Our latest obsession is watching Sean turn his historic home into a Disney-level experience and talking for hours in his kitchen and dining room.  I love them so much.  We got to all hang out at the end of summer and it was such a great way to end act two.  

Let me be clear, it is NOT cool to talk to a teacher about "being ready for school to start back" while it is still summer.  As a rule, we are not ready, nor do we want to talk or think about school until the day we are forced to by a contract or teaching schedule.  I say that as a teacher who LOVES to teach and absolutely ADORES his students.  Still, I NEED my summer.  At the end (or honestly, the middle) of the spring semester, my batteries were depleted.  I finished the semester on fumes and desperately needed some time to recharge and become a human again.  

One side of my brain says it would have been nice to rest more and not have such a full schedule all summer.  The other side says, "Dude, don't be stupid, you had so many wonderful opportunities and experiences this summer."  And yeah, that side is correct.  I'm so grateful for all of the opportunities to show art, make art and travel this summer.  Sometimes I have a moment of realizing that I'm experiencing a thing that some artists go their whole lives/careers without experiencing.  Not only that, but I get to do that in an interesting calendar balance while also getting to teach art to the coolest students.  So here I am on August 12, knowing that my contract officially starts on August 15 and I'm kinda, sorta, missing my students and my classes and feeling like it's about time to get back to the fall semester.  I'm not "ready to go back" but I'm getting there fast.  

work road trip, remix

Chapel Hill is a long way from Charleston, SC.  You don't really think about distances between cities until you have to drive them.  I got caught up on my podcasts and even spent some time driving in silence before rolling into the Charleston area around 3:00pm.  

This was originally a family vacation, a short trip to the coast to hang out and eat good food before everyone gets really busy with school and work.  Those plans started to fall apart when the kids had other plans but instead of canceling, we decided to go without them.  G had to miss a couple of days of our beach vacation because of dog drama and she was going to Charleston with or without us.  I ended up meeting her there during a very uncommon weather event.

The event was unseasonably cool weather.  I mean, a hurricane would be more common during the summer in Charleston.  There was a lot of cloud cover and the occasional shower, but being in Charleston in August and not being drenched in sweat immediately after walking outside was worth the risk of rain.  We had a good dinner at Saltwater Cowboys and since we didn't have any real plans, we just drove around Mount Pleasant and explored some of the historic district.  We walked out Pitt Street Bridge and admired the landscape.  The rain moved in as soon as we made it back to the car.

One of my favorite things to to in Charleston (or on any vacation) is to run.  When we stay in Mount Pleasant during a Charleston visit, I get to run the Cooper River Bridge.  This is an oddly tense situation for me because I'm a little apprehensive about driving over big bridges and I'm afraid of falling from heights.  But also, Charleston is so flat and you get such a great view up on the bridge.  It's always beautiful, even in a crazy thunderstorm (which I got caught running in during my last trip).  Since I was missing my extra miles of cross country practice while out of town, I had been adding on some mileage during the mornings.  This allowed me to run all the way across the bridge and back and it killed my thighs.  Hills in Charleston!

G was owed a beach day and so on Sunday, we had breakfast and drove to the beach at Sullivan's Island.  It was cloudy and we got drizzled on a little, but it was so cool and nice to be outside.  I got to take lots of photos of birds and I got to pet a dog.  I even walked a little, but my legs were pretty tired so I kept that at a low distance.

Again, we had no real plans and only two opinions instead of four to consider, so we just sort of winged it.  After washing the sand off, we got dinner and then found our way to Shem Creek Park and found a really cool, really beautiful and really long boardwalk.  This added more miles to my day but the views were worth the shaky legs.  

People watching on vacation is always at the top of my to-do list.  I mentioned in the last post that I was in an artistically receiving mode and that continued in Charleston.  Everything was inspiring and I was noticing images of suns, moons and stars everywhere I looked.  Also, for reasons I haven't yet figured out, shrimp made an appearance every day.  

Monday started with a 5 mile run across the bridge and back.  I almost trampled a young woman who was gabbing with her friends and not paying attention.  She got scared by an oncoming bike while walking in the bike lane and as she jumped back into formation with her friends, I was attempting to thread the needle between them.  This scared her more and as I apologized ahead of them, I heard lots of laughter and apologies coming from behind me.  

I got to my car just as the rain started and it would continue through the morning.  We had planned to make this our downtown walking day and when we found two umbrellas, we just decided to walk in the rain.  I had this amazing biscuit at Callie's Hot Little Biscuit in the Market and then we walked up King Street.

Where I continued to see imagery from my drawings and sketchbooks.  A sun and clouds in one of the fancy windows.

This is a Colada.  It's 4-5 shots of espresso with pure cane sugar.  It's intended to be for 4-5 people but it's my favorite drink at Cafecito, my favorite Charleston coffee place.  It's technically not a "coffeeshop" and I used to love Kudu Coffee but I go to Cafecito every time I get to go to Charleston.  The food and coffee is as amazing as the positive vibes in this little cafe.  I love it so much.  Please go give them your money when you're in town.

I visited my favorite thrift shop, Far Side, and found the perfect new motto for the sculpture studio.

I got waved at by Jesus.  That was pretty cool.

The wave came from inside St. Matthew's church on King Street.  This is also a favorite stop for me in Charleston.  I used to tag along to Charleston on G's work conference trips and would spend several days exploring the city alone while she did boring things.  One year, I saw the church doors open here and walked inside.  It was so beautiful.  I spend the rest of that trip trying to open church doors and found a surprising number of them open.  I figure churches should be welcoming to strangers, especially if they're visually beautiful.  Even the ones that weren't "open to the public" didn't kick me out and some even gave me a tour.  St. Matthew's is one of my favorites and it's where I want to go to church if I ever move to Charleston.  Also, more suns, moons and stars.

Another stop I have to make is the Halsey at College of Charleston.  They always have the best exhibits and it's my dream to get to show there at some point.  This is the first time I've ever found the doors closed and locked.  They were in the middle of installing a new exhibit and painting the hand rails just outside the gallery, so maybe next time.  That's when I found this fun little "exhibit" on the street.  One of the art students left their sculpture out with the trash.  Sad and totally relatable.  

We let Google choose our dinner.  We decided to try a completely new place and that meant spending a little time on Google seeing what was rated best on different lists of restaurants.  We landed on Crave in Mount Pleasant and when I got my drink and saw the classic crescent moon in it, I knew I was at the right place.  The food was really good and the chocolate we found just after dinner was even better.

Tuesday was my fifth day in a row running with the public instead of running on my private running trail.  I am truly Southern and I made a point to say "good morning" to everyone I passed on the bridge.  I'm sometimes baffled by the responses and this causes me to overthink while I'm running.  Other runners and walkers mostly respond in kind with "good morning" or at least a smile.  If you don't, I judge you pretty harshly.  I don't care where you're from or what running protocol is there.  You're in the city of hospitality, you can at least smile at the bald, sweaty guy who says "good morning" to you.  I even had a nice conversation with another runner who had a similar pace.  He was from Maryland and even if he was surprised I was talking to him, he was kind and obliged with runner banter.  

In those five days of running around others, I noticed a lot of female runners and walkers and I do understand if they're not jumping at the chance to make eye contact or say "good morning" to a man they don't know while trying to exercise.  I can't imagine what it's like to be a female runner and to always have to worry about safety.  When they didn't make eye contact or pretended to not hear me because of headphones/earbuds, I just smiled and waved in the hopes that they would relax knowing I wasn't trying to stalk them.  I'm sure it doesn't help or change anything, but if you're a female runner, you should know that some of the guys you see on your run are not bad guys.  Some of them are running near you or doubling back to pass you in the opposite direction because we're making sure you are safe and that the suspicious guy we saw a few minutes ago didn't start following you.  It's cool to still be suspicious.  I don't blame you.  But some of us are trying to help. 

So after another 5 miles over water and saying "good morning" to a bunch of ungrateful party poopers, I showered, we packed up and headed out for breakfast on the Isle of Palms.  Since the sun was out and the temperatures were starting to climb back to normal Charleston temperatures, we couldn't resist one last look at the beach before leaving.  But again, I wouldn't just be driving home.  I still had one more leg to add to this trip.  

I had to go by a shoe store in Summerville to get a new pair of Hokas and if you put me near Summerville, I'm going to go by all my favorite places and try to see all my favorite people.  I texted Jana and Dan while getting my coffee fix at Coastal Coffee.  I dropped by the Fly Vintage place to see my new friend and check out the new arrivals.  Then I went in Public Works and saw so many wonderful people.  I got to talk to Jana and Linda for a while and made some plans for my next visit in a few weeks.  I got to check out the new positive notes in the Vault exhibit and then finally I got in my car to drive home.  The dogs aren't even sure I live here anymore.