Interning with Pam Longobardi

Well peeps, the time is here and I am so stoked I can barely see straight. I leave ultra early in the morning on Saturday for the long drive to Atlanta and my long awaited internship with the fabulous artist Pam Longobardi. We met quite serendipitously while I was working an internship for my undergraduate studies at The Maier Museum of Art. I walked into the room to help hang the show which was focused on artists addressing environmental issues, to find Pam busily pinning to the wall small pieces of colorful, plastic trash she had collected off of South Point Beach on the Big Island of Hawaii to create an eye color test chart that read Dead C in its center. I happened to be wearing a necklace I had created from beach glass collected off that very same beach. We bonded instantly over our mutual love of Hawaii, the ocean, and all things environmental. Now, several years later, after Pam and her wonderful Drifter's Project have been shown all over the world (pictured here at the Art Life Gallery in Venice), and I have dutifully continued trudging through school hoping to learn how to create such amazing and inspired environmental art works as Pam, I have been given the incredible opportunity to work with her on her latest installation called Material Drift in the Sandler Hudson Gallery Atlanta next week. So, in honor of this exciting moment, I have copied the link to my article on Pam's upcoming show recently published at Got2BeGreen. It has all the details on Material Drift opening May 21st in Atlanta. I hope to see some of you there. Thanks to Pam for providing this opportunity and the photo of her work.
For more go to Got2BeGreen.

Sick of Being Sick

While the world wakes up around me with the lovely sounds of spring, and the sun begins to warm up the over frozen ground, I am going back to bed. After a miserable time of nursing my Gramma back to semi-health from pneumonia a couple of weeks ago, I picked up whatever virus has been keeping every bed at every hospital in town full. Let me just state the obvious: I'm not having fun!

My doctor told me I was in for at least ten days of hell, and although I thought at the time it really wasn't helpful to be told such a thing, I guess it has kept me from panicking too much. I still don't feel a whole heap better at ten days than I did on day one. Alas, I did get one house call out of him, an extra-ordinary circumstance, to be sure. He was afraid I had contracted meningitis, but because the hospitals are so over-run, he came over to my house. I am happy to report, I do not have meningitis. Plus, I now am the proud possessor of antibiotics, something he doesn't give lightly.

Anyway, there isn't much fun to report here, nor do I have the brain power, filled as it is with all assortment of bugs and drugs, to write anything too delightful for your reading pleasure just now. So, I have opted to link you to a few places where my work has recently been published in hopes you might enjoy a poem or two of mine and some of the fine writing of others.

I was honored recently when my grad school professors invited me to publish some of my work on the Goddard Blog along with their own writings and some of the incredible talents of alums and current students.

Yet another poem has been published in The Canary this month by Hip Pocket Press. The editor, Gail Entrekin, has been fabulous to me, and I will be eternally grateful. You don't want to miss reading some of the back issues of this journal if you are a fan of poetry and prose.

Last, but certainly not least, I am linking you to an old article in the Lynchburg News and Advance about the Art Box move to its new location, because this is where you can find the new Art on 12th Studios and Galleries. I rent studio number one with my business partner, Terri Miller. We will be having our first opening to the public on Sunday, April 18th from 2-4:30 pm.

The paintings I chose to share are a couple of my new works in progress, which have been created since moving into my fabulous new space on January 1st of this year. We are excited to finally be officially opening the renovated upstairs spaces to the public. We being myself and a dozen other artists living and working in Lynchburg.

If you live in the area, come on down to the new Art Box on the corner of Grace and 12th Street in downtown Lynchburg, and check out all the great stuff Anne has for sale. Sign up for some of the ongoing classes by several resident artists in a number of media, and by all means, wander upstairs and visit the artists at work. We look forward to seeing you!

Extended Vacation

The month of me was spectacular, perhaps a bit too good since it translated into my extended vacation from blogging and writing anything beyond my research for graduate school. Actually, the real excuse is a heavy paper dealing with ethics in the making, valuation, and sale of art. This is a subject which brings up horrible memories of a controversial time at Randolph College. I have been reticent to say anything about it for reasons I won't go into here. Suffice it to say, it has been a difficult, complex, and heart wrenching task of reliving an unpleasant past. Although the writing of it is important to my graduate work, and I would not shirk its necessity, it has taken a bit of the joy out of writing for me in the process. Now that the semester is over, and the initial draft is complete, I begin to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps when I finish my paper, I'll be less cryptic and share my feelings on the events and the subject here. Right now, I am ready to walk away from the whole thing and enjoy my extended vacation. On that note, I leave today for a cruise of the Caribbean. Woohoo!

Anyway, instead of talking about ethics, the environment, and art, lets talk about me. Specifically, the month of me. I promised I would tell you all about it, and then I got selfish and took several months off. I am prone to selfish acts. I'll admit it. Anyway, the month of me was spectacular and I think I may have had the best fortieth birthday of anyone on record in the history of humanity. I'm not even sure I remember everything I did during the month, but the highlights were exceptional.


I started out with a trip to Washington, D.C. to visit the National Gallery and the Hirshorne museum. We stayed at the Marriott Courtyard right beside the National Portrait Gallery. Apart from the typical frustration of driving in the convoluted streets of that city and the ridiculous cost of parking, we had a fabulous time walking the streets, enjoying art, eating great food. I got spectacular photos. My favorite is of the amazing sculpture pictured above by Ron Mueck at the Hirshorne and the New York fan who was equally awed by it.

Next was the highlight of my month, Shakori Hills music festival and an entire weekend with many of my dearest friends camping, enjoying and making music, and dancing till our feet ached. My lovely zoo peeps all came out to help me celebrate, as did my partner in crime and art making, Terri, who drove all the way from Lynchburg with an injured back to join the mayhem. She was a great sport! Nikki baked me a cow cake which made me laugh and laugh. Another story for another time. Pete dressed me up like a princess in tiara and jewels, to which Terri added a really cool scepter that lit up and played magical sounds. We sat around camp fires, listened to fantastic music and generally laughed until our sides ached.

But, I haven't even gotten started. My dear friends Kimmy and David cooked up some serious surprises for me along with the rest of my friends in Donna the Buffalo, the best band in the world. So, not only did they bring me fun decorations for the campsite and lovely gifts both in the bag and in their presence, they also had my favorite songs added to the Saturday night set list, dedicated a special version of my all-time favorite song, Conscious Evolution, to me and had my all-time favorite guitarist, Jeb Puryear, wish me a happy birthday, not once, but twice during the show. Wow! I was really floored. Now, you'd think the month of me would end there. I mean, how much more fun can one girl have? Oh, I haven't even gotten started.

After Donna ended what I now think of as my birthday set, we all waltzed on over to the dance tent to dance for several more hours to my second favorite band in the whole world, The Duhks. Maybe it was just the rosy glow of my party, although I really didn't drink that much, so I don't think so, but I feel like that particular set was one of the best I have seen by this talented band. I lost my magical scepter at some point during the show, but the magic seemed to stay with me regardless.

After, Leonard and several of my friends in the band hung out and closed down the dance tent. Then Christian, the drummer, David, and Kimmy and I ended up finished out to rest of the night, literally, laughing until the sun came up over at their campsite. I'm fairly certain the laughter alone lifted several years off my life. So, my actual birthday party ended with three dear friends and partners in mayhem watching the sun come up over the sheep field and wondering at the manliness of those big-boy sheep. They are really quite spectacular in ways we shouldn't discuss here.

As it turns out, the scepter went on to have its own fabulous party and found the perfect home away from me. Apparently, my friend Kath's daughters found it and had all kinds of fun playing with it until they tried brandishing it over the guy in the chicken suit who drives the hay ride tractors around the park. I guess they were trying to turn him into a frog. It didn't work, but he ended up with the magical instrument of birthday power and carried it around the rest of the weekend threatening the unruly children with it. I kept hearing the squeals of delight that followed it's funny electronic sounds, and I figured it was right where it belonged, spreading the magic of joy and laughter throughout the park.

But, fear not. I was still not without its magical powers because the magical fun did not end with the party, as one might expect. No the next day, after one short hour of sleep, as the campers began to rise from their warm sleeping bags, I woke unable to fall back to sleep. Feeling bleary, I opted for a shower and some coffee. So, I dragged myself out of bed, and took care of business. Once I had coffee in hand, I was beginning to feel mildly human again as the sounds of Keith Secola drifted across the main stage field with the unmistakable guitar riffs of Jeb Puryear wandering along the scale. Like a bee to honey, I followed the music and stood near the stage drinking in the sounds, letting the music wake me up.

Perhaps five minutes passed before I was being pulled by one of my herd friends, Gail, towards the stage steps, and led right up onto the stage to become one of the fry bread backup singers for the band. Suddenly, I am on stage directly in front of Jeb with a microphone in front of me singing. How did this happen? I had to laugh. So, I sang along, and danced and generally tried to make myself smaller since I figured most people would rather see Jeb play his guitar than me dancing around and pretending to be a professional singer. Still, it was amazing, a new perspective on the festival and perhaps one of the most fun things I've ever done at Shakori Hills. Thanks Keith. If you ever need a full-time singer, look me up.

Oh, and I cannot forget to mention the best dancing at Shakori every year in the dance tent when Preston Frank takes the stage. That man knows how to play some Zydeco. Put him together with Donna the Buffalo as his band, and you have some of the finest dance music ever played. So, we danced and we danced and we danced for the rest of the day.

Although the weekend was swiftly drawing to a close, I still had one more wonderful thing to come. David's son Riley, who is twelve, decided he wanted to play the drums with his dad's band for the first time during the Friends of Donna the Buffalo ritual closing concert of the festival. Can I tell you, he rocked the house. The musical talent in that family will indeed live on in Riley McCracken. I'm personally looking forward to many years as one of his groupies. We were all very impressed, including Tara, and I get the sense she does not impress easily. Christian Dugas of the Duhks also sang a lovely ballad, but not from his comfort zone behind the drums, but rather in front of the band. Although he seemed a bit nervous about it before the fact, he was impressively composed onstage and sang a hauntingly lovely song for the crowd. It was a spectacular birthday party to be sure. Thanks go out to all my fabulous friends and family who made my birthday one to remember. I love you all!


Photos appear courtesy of Bill Davis. Thanks Bill!

A Disappearance of Wings

The art of Pam Longobardi has inspired me to return to my keyboard and write about Hawaii’s endangered birds. I borrowed the title from the above installation, which combines portraits of extinct birds, antique coffin handles, and projected images of wings. Viewing it left my chest aching when I noticed that most of the portraits were native Hawaiian birds. While working on the Big Island as an intern with the Keauhou Bird Conservation Center, I learned that Hawaii is the Endangered Species Capital of the World. Why? Because, ever since the first humans set foot on the islands in approximately 400 A.D., there has been a disappearance of wings.

From the time I first flew over, I was awed by the beauty of Hawaii. I remember stepping off the plane to the exotic sounds and smells in the humid air. In particular, I was lured by the melodic songs of little yellow birds flitting near the outdoor baggage claim and the small grass huts at the Hilo airport. When I excitedly pointed them out to my friend, an avian biologist I was meeting, she told me they were introduced Japanese White-Eyes. I noticed a bright red Cardinal fly into the bushes near her car, and a Scarlet Macaw flew overhead as we drove away. While we toured the sights of Hilo, I was bursting with excitement to see native wildlife, but almost every plant or bird I pointed to was introduced. We didn’t begin to see or hear native species until we had reached her home in Volcano, at the top of Kilauea just outside Hawaii Volcano National Park. On the ride up the mountain, I was astounded to learn that seventy-five percent of Hawaii’s native birds were already extinct or endangered.

When I finally got to the native forests during my internship, I had to wonder why anyone would change such beauty. Yes, the islands are lovely in the lowlands where introduced species reign, but that beauty does not begin to compare to the lush dark greens and vibrant colors of the native forests. Much of the pristine forests are no longer open to the public, as wildlife officials from numerous organizations fight what often seems like a hopeless battle to preserve them. These lovely islands became home to animals and plants which traveled unimaginable distances across the sea to evolve into distinct species found nowhere else on earth. Yet, most of those distinct species are already gone, and those hearty enough to survive the most destructive introduced species, the human, are continuing to die.

Since the first Polynesian Settlers arrived, the birds have been disappearing. No one could blame the settlers for staying. After traveling over 2000 miles from the nearest land, they found islands with fertile soil and easy targets to hunt. These settlers brought crops like sugar cane and breadfruit and began clearing forests. The Polynesians, who celebrate their connection to nature, began to incorporate birds into their cultural traditions. Not only did they hunt them for food, but their feathers were used for decorations and clothing in religious ceremonies. By the time Captain Cook brought the first English explorers in 1778, some species were already extinct.

With the arrival of the Europeans, the islands changed more in the following years than it had in the 1300 years since the Polynesians first made land. Boat loads of settlers began to arrive. Apart from humans, two of the most destructive pests stowed away on these ships, the black rat, and the mosquito. Whole ecosystems began to disappear as land was cleared for homes and large-scale farm operations and the islands changed into what they are today.

Now, wild goats, pigs, deer, cows, and sheep trample the forests not already cleared by humans, uprooting trees and turning lush green havens into baron rocks and mud wallows. The forestry service must employ numerous people to hunt and kill these free-ranging animals. Mosquitoes spread malaria, avian pox, and avian TB to birds and humans alike. Feral animals run rampant, as people introduce more cats, dogs, and other animals onto the islands.

Of course, those trying to save the islands are not entirely blameless either. Scientists have taken numerous species from the wild for the purposes of study. One might find any number of stuffed native birds in museums around the world, caught and killed for education. Then, there are the colossal mistakes scientists made in efforts to eradicate pests. Perhaps the worst was the introduction of the Mongoose. This species was initially introduced to control the rat population, but those in charge didn’t pay attention to the fact that rats are active at night and the mongoose hunts during the day. Also, someone forgot to tell the mongoose that he should not eat birds and their eggs. Now, the mongoose is one of the worst pest species, proving good intentions are not enough.

In the face of such hopelessness, there are amazing people continuing to work towards saving the last remaining native species. Many work long hours, tirelessly attempting to clean up the mess to keep small parts of the native ecosystems intact so future generations can experience the hypnotic and distinct beauty that was Hawaii. CSI types like my friend test blood from hearty birds immune to some diseases and attempt to create more effective vaccines. Educators speak out to tourists and residents about ways to help save what little remains of the natural environments. Wildlife officials work around the clock to eradicate pests like the mongoose. Park officials pull up pest plants like the ginger, which is choking native plants, the staple foods for specialized native birds. And around the world, people like Pam Longobardi inspire and teach others about the disappearance of wings. To be equally inspired visit the Maier Museum of Art in Lynchburg, Virginia from January 20th – August 8th, 2009 or visit her website at http://www.pamlongobardi.com/ . To find out how you can help save the native species of Hawaii, visit the Hawaii Conservation Alliance at http://hawaiiconservation.org/ .