Tags
art, art festival, hung, love, s., scott, sex, spring, stetson, winter park
casselberry studio tower. top…. portrait of healther gale douglas welden with stage chair.it’s all about sex.
you might think that s. having dropped out of school to paint would be starved for female companionship. just the opposite.
the sidewalk art festival connected s. with college age students. rollins was right in the little town of winter park and stetson university was a short drive away in deland.
late march and the world was blooming with spring flowers. every yard was aglow with azaleas all reds and yellow. the white flowering bushes and the pinks made you think of weddings. spring was in the air and the sap was rising. you could smell it. that fresh delightful clarity of cool air had a particular effect on s. . to be alive and happy, young, strong and handsome was an aphrodisiac miracle.
down to his last cigarette s. bummed butts from the passersby at his display of paintings. they all were sold by the end of the day, and his wallet was bulging. the carnival atmosphere with strolling minstrels, jugglers, little food stands everywhere. the ‘soup tureen’, a quaint outdoor bistro next to s.’s gallery was a perfect setting for a day full of new impressions and new people.
s. was excited by all the people and the compliments he was getting on his work.
that’s s.’s brother’s portrait on top.
terry lung, a young photographer who did smashing full portraits larger than life invited s. to his studio for a free sitting. gamble rogers, a folksinger extended an invitation to dinner with his wife. “bring your girl.” he had said. s. didn’t have a girl right then. he didn’t spend much time sitting by his paintings. anita (stepmother) was there and held court with her friends and welcomed prospective buyers. s. felt like a dΓ©butante and whirled around alighting here and there making friends with everyone.
my grandfather bought this one. the boy in the woods.
the theater group from stetson adopted him and mike the ‘director’ a graduate student and assistant professor at the film school introduced him to heather gale douglas welden and through them he met many others. all in all it was a wonderful day.
after that s. spent most of his time hanging out day and night. sometimes they would stay up all night. he loved it when they would turn on all the red spots on the stetson theatre stage with all the house lights off. everything was surreal. heather with her black hair and black eyes and slim body made him delirious with desire. they became lovers. they were seen together on the campus, in the cafeteria always making out. he with his ‘shades’, black clothes and hopped up exuberance she with her intellectual early ‘libber’ superior attitude.
unfortunately, the conservative ‘ivy leaguers’ and football studs didn’t appreciate s. and his constant presence with his big sketchpad and satchel stuffed with revolutionary pocketbooks like marx’s “the communist manifesto” and ayn rand’s “atlas shrugged”. colin wilson’s second book, “the outsider” which explained everything. rimbaud’s “season in hell” and the “drunken boat”; and the “flowers of evil” by baudelaire. he always had at least one dogeared copy of “the evergreen review”. he even went so far as to spout his own poems uninvited at the student union cafeteria. the young studs didn’t appreciate the adoring gazes of their bored girlfriends.
to top it all off, he had been known to take a girl into a cozy bush now and then. marijuana was still hard to get, but there was plenty of Dexedrine. sometimes they’d stay up for three nights in a row, stop eating. then they would visit this eccentric artist’s house, full of paintings dogs and cats. she would talk for hours with them. they argued about free love, government and god over and over again. then they would come down on wine; kaking out on couches.
the school year came to an end. but a week before the end of the semester, the jocks and squares got together one saturday night. they dressed a dummy in black with long black hair and sunglasses and burned him in effigy in the square. mike, the theatre group, and the rest of the cast were doing a dress rehearsal of ibsen’s “hedda gabbler” with heather in the leading role. s. was very proud to have her for a girlfriend. someone came running in shouting “s. you’re being hanged in the square. when we got there the dummy was burning bright. everyone laughed and passed the beer.
one sunday during church services the campus was somewhat deserted. s. was alone outside reading on a bench. sharon had left the service and dragged s. into the bushes. she did it like a rabbit, fast and furious. that was a total surprise for s., but he didn’t resist for an instant. sharon had the pinkest skin and the golden hair. heather never found out and sharon became an occasional freebie for months afterwards. that is until she introduced s. to robin.
robin was nineteen and a precious beauty. she was studying to be a medical secretary. her gregg shorthand was amazing. she could write faster than you could talk. she had a room in an all women’s dormitory she called “the young women’s concentration camp”, strictly off limits to men.
s. pursued robin avidly and from their first date they were both hopelessly in love, and wonderfully dependent on each others company for happiness. they saw each other whenever they could. they lay naked sunbathing in the tall grass by the lake. they would sit on a bench at lake eola in the late afternoon. the weather was balmy. one night late but before curfew at 11:00 p.m.., robin sensed s’s sexuality so strongly after that hour of hugging and kissing she unzipped his pants and pulled him to the most rewarding orgasm he had ever experienced. he was all balled up… blue balls they call it; when you don’t masturbate for weeks.
the next day s. received his draft card in the mail and couldn’t wait to show it off to robin.
they met for lunch at a little coffee house near her school. in those days the draft was by lottery. chris had had a high number but had to sign up after the tampa fiasco.
s. was so happy that day with robin that he could only express it by running along the backs and hoods of parked cars. he didn’t know what had gotten into him, he was just ecstatic in a bubble of love for robin with her blue-green eyes and loving smile. as if that was not enough he burned his draft card on the top of a car for all to see in downtown orlando. he had sworn he would do that as soon as it came.
busted again. a little later at the police station robin came in quietly demure in her pretty shirt with a red rosebud to her nose. he was so happy she came. the cops didn’t really know what to do with him so they let him go with a strong warning. no court. they celebrated his freedom on the same bench by lake eola.
eventually, robin buckled down to her studies, s. spent most of his time drawing at the royal school of ballet and with no social life biked out and spent weeks in the casselberry studio.
robin cooked up a plan for the weekend of halloween. she forged a note from her father that she was overnighting with her cousin in winter park. she surprised s. with a bag of groceries and a couple bottles of wine. she placed candles all around. s. lit the fire. robin lay on her back and took her pants off. s. helped her with her pink flowered cotton underwear and shirt. robin wasn’t wearing a bra.
s. threw himself on top of her literally crying and whimpered, “i love you.”
there was blood and it hurt her but she took it bravely and even enjoyed it the second time. now they were real lovers… sleeping entwined together and making love again in the morning light. they were ’til death do us part lovers.
escape to new york….
Sir Scott, i always l π ve reading your post. Am looking out for more :up: π
I very much like the painting your granny bought!
Hi there dear Sir Scott bro :)I have been following your story up to now – please know that even if I dont comment I am here reading about you and enjoying the experience of seeing your creativity and wonderful prose and always amazing and superb narrative :up: π
Vocabulary alert!!" blue balls they call it; when you don't masturbate for weeks."really??oh the things this immigrant learns by reading on Opera,let me correct this"by reading Scott !":lol:Thanks for another amazing read :heart:
lea, i will go on until i run out of stories. :up:loku- big bro, i don't expect you to comment on every one… it's :cool:allan,grandparents died and left the painting to the strang's in santa barbara. best friends who had always coveted it. nice of pappy to do that. he was like that. very giving and thought about others. :love: him.meli, :heart: i thought everyone had heard that one… 'blue balls' is one of the great pleadings for men to get their girlfriends to relent when they don't feel like it. "baby, c'mon, my balls are blue!"stay tuned for more. but i am renting a car and going to arizona for a few day at least. maybe even mexico. i haven't seen brother bobby for a long time. i need to check up on him. :happy:
Another great chapter Scott.You're going to be in Arizona?!!! Where in Arizona?
:hi: pam,ajo. i still have to find it on the map. later tonight i will google it. i think it's in southern new mexico. should be an adventure. lucky at least i will have a reliable car. :happy:
:up: travel safely, dear bro π
meli,the following package was prepared with love for your trip: dive safe , have a fantastic time! free gas:money:snacks: :a warm blanket and companion:a first Aid Box :a book:and lots of love: please give my love to Bobby,meli,you will be missed
"then i may never get back":lol:one more reason for me to visit Mexico!I hope everything goes well with the car, come back safe π
meli :heart:i think you covered it all. i clicked on the money but nothing happened.i rented the car but one reason i got it was to go to the car pound and transfer various things i will just have to buy again. i always keep a lot of things in the car in case i have to leave town in a hurry. :lol:gas can, jumper cables, flashlight, bowsaw, axe, canteen and frame pack with everything like stove and all that camping equipment. i even have a couple of sheets of masonite for painting on. i don't need all that for this trip but i need to get those things before they auction my trusty jeep. i will ask if i am allowed to bid on it. hell, i may get it for a song. :happy:i'm all packed and ready to go. just waiting for the heat of the day to subside to ransack the jeep.not sure if i am going to do the 340 miles at night or take off fully rested in the morning.thanks for all the good wishes. :love: i'll be alright unless bobby insists on going to mexico. then i may never get back. j/k
Interesting story!
So did Selective Service ever catch up with you? Or are you saving that for another chapter?
I'm enjoying the story, Scott. And, I really like the direction you've taken your blog.:up: Keeps me on my toes!I like the new pic of you, too!Hugs:) :heart:
meli,i was in mexico for ten minutes. :up:hi kayfour, thanks for commenting. :happy: ed, yes, saving that for another chapter. :cool:jill,a formal welcome back to opera… :heart:glad you find the new direction acceptable. thanks for commenting. :happy:
*I_ArtMan dances the mexican hat dance… so glad to be home. :happy:
hahahaha as long as is dancing and not sunbathing! :phttp://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb107/ellinidata/FUN/Sombrero.jpg"there is no place like home"I am looking forward to your news about Bobby! Of course when you are ready for it π
You get 10 points!!! :lol:welcome home meli,you have been missed MUCHO grande !!!!!
how sweet. the 'little man' has his own sombrero π wouldn't want a sunburn is such an existential place. i will post some pictures. haven't even downloaded them to the 'puter yet, but i'm getting there. there's always a ton of things to do when you go away for a week. stay tuned meli :heart:now i have to catch up on your daily postings… i don't think i'll have time to read comments though this time. π
i like your art its original. Its reminds me of a blend of chagal , sickert (some that hangs in whitworth gallery manchester),gilbert and george , velvet bruegel , and a sepia picture by van gogh of a man sowing his seeds. And you look like a zz top menber
captain beefheart is an artist who im told lives in the arisona desert .simular backgrounds of inspiration to u art man. His songs seem to express a hernia, sense of loss ,lament . Dirge exasperation ,mania and personality disorder brought on by being short change at joes diner and reading a dissappointing bank statement . But art man! Its early days 4 u !
your art wouldn't have looked out of place on an led zeppelin album or leonard cohen one. Theres seems a tint of eeriesness slightly night mare of a chagal vibrant warmth scene .some foreboding after eating mature cheese late at night or taking st john's wort before bedtime !
cool comments brendan… thanks for coming around. you're right to group me with these artists. i'd say brueghel is my favorite among this list. but chagall has influenced some of my decisions.i still absorb art like a sponge. i do try to avoid that horrible word derivitive. influenced yes, but 'derivitive' is to be avoided at all costs. and the simple cure is to dig deep in my own self. technique is just an aspect; and sometimes style is just a flummery.
Big Hugs to you Scott!!! I hope you're having a great week!;) :heart:
Thanks again for the welcome back!!!:heart: :up:
Reblogged this on podloonaroon.
i apologize to the friends who have already read this one. B|