Day 24: Brutality of War

I don't think it's going to be one of my depressed posts, but I'm not going to lie--going through the Gettysburg Battle Field was just terrible.

It is not that the museum was bad, and, if fact, it is one of the best historical museums I've been into. And the weather was beautiful. And some of the monuments honored the soldiers, and some of them were monumentally ostentatious and sickening!

Isaac Walton Taber, Drummer Boys, c. 1885

There was even some art there. One thing that this trip has done is made me fall in love with drawing and painting again. I get to teach my first studio art classes at CBA this year, and I'm stoked for that. I think y'all know that is where my heart is!

Okay, I'm not sure I fell out of love, but I definitely haven't been using tools to make that kind of art lately--unless you count the show where I had 19 drawings and two sculptures. Well, there was some good art this time!

I guess what really saddens me that I never realized until just today is that the War of the Rebellion has had fantastically long reaching effects--immeasurable effects. Like when hurricane Katrina washed all of the juices from Southern Louisiana into the Gulf of Mexico. There was a mixture of so many crappy, hazardous materials that whatever maladies the Katrina concoction creates will never be able to be tested or replicated. Just don't eat the grouper is all I'm saying.

Our vet, whom we found on this pretty bronze plaque, went on to do stuff in the world. Sure, we're not exactly sure what, but we know he lived up into the 20th Century. But there are so many lives that were snuffed out, and that would have been tragic enough. But think about all of the women who could not find a suitable mate because of the lack of options. How many inventions are as unknowable as the soldiers lying namelessly in soiled dirt. War just sucks.

"No man can see the end with any satisfaction." Said some soldier on the eve of Gettysburg. No, nobody could. But the battle was necessary. I hate that there is a moral justification for war, but slavery is wrong. Period.

There is a guy in our group. A man who molds the minds of SC children. From day one he has argued that the War of the Southern Rebellion was not about slavery. Today we were talking about monuments, and the offense that many in the south give. Someone brought up an idea of taking the ones that we should let go and put them in a garden, and not a prominent one. The jackass said we may be against them now, but we may not be in 100 years. Who the fuck says that? Did I say something? You know I did. Jackass racist jerkface!

But I have to imagine that for things concerning monuments or the stuff carved into it change at a glacial pace because the sentiment is literally written stone. Not like our graffiti, though, which was written on plaster that had yet to cure. The study of the graffiti itself has been wonderful, but remember, we've tied those marks on the wall to a human. We know we did because we tracked his war and pension record. Then we went to a battlefield where he fought and survived.

So there have been a lot of ups and downs this past week, and I cannot imagine a better way to spend a part of my summer. I'm going to need a long rest after this, and I'll need a lot of alone time for the few days I have left in my summer break. But, really. I'm giddy about the whole thing. But it ain't been easy.

Day 23: Way Too Much Information

Today was a great day, but I'm exhausted. It is only 5pm, and I have so much work to do. I was going to go to DC and be a tourist, but I think I will nerd out and do some work with my veteran. For example, here is a map of his movements during the war--it'll be refined for my secret presentation.


More to follow.

Really big smiles to all!

Day 22: Ghosts in the Walls

I'm learning so much. I'm trying to suspend my judgement about all aspects of the war so that I can have an open heart and mind. Sometimes it is easy, but I must say that I'm becoming pretty uncomfortable with my new appreciation for the obstinance of Confederate descendants.

Jim Morin, The Miami Herald

Don't be confused by this, though. I in no way condone the flying of the Confederate flag, which is a long-time symbol of hate and racism. That flag should have been retired long ago. It is a symbol of slavery and the oppression of black people, you know, racism.

"...the Federal Government having perverted said powers, not only to the injury of the people of Virginia, but to the oppression of the Southern slaveholding States." Virginia Ordinance of Secession (April 17, 1861)

 But how fresh are the wounds? Did you know that there is a child of one Civil War veteran who was still receiving benefits from her father in 2015. I'm not making that up!

I got some stats today that are so heartbreaking. At the end of the Civil War there were only 2,719 boys in VA who would reach the age of 17. VA was the most populated in the south! 89.7% of all slave holders in the south were enlisted in Lee's army.



Could you imagine seeing some kid decapitated by a cannon ball? This kid, Edwin Jemison, was on July 1, 1862 at the Battle of Malvern Hill. How terrible the whole thing was. But the Union was right to fight for the abolition of slavery in the south.

I got some amazing pictures today! We went to two different places, The Graffiti House and Ben Lomond Historic Site. The reason that these images and the text are preserved is because of plaster. But you'll have to wait until I do my presentation to get the rest. Or look it up!

The house we went to today has been worked over really well so that it can be a legitimate museum, or so it feels. There was a stark contrast between both of today's visits and yesterday's, which is just an old house with graffiti permanently living in the walls, much like the ghosts of the soldiers who left their marks.

So there was much fakery, kind of like when I visited the Shaolin Temple. The temple has been located at the same place for 1500 years, but it has been burned down and rebuilt a number of times. It's latest manifestation seems fake in so many ways. When I was there I never felt further or closer to Disney World.

Again, though, I must learn to suspend my judgement so that I can be open to learning. How do I impart that to the kids? Speaking of kids, I was walking through the lobby of the hotel where I'm staying. There was this kid sitting there talking to some old dude, who turned out to be the kid's father. And the kid turned out to be one of my kids from Florida! He was my advisee for four years! I watched him grow from a 14 year old boy to a young man. And he just graduated college! Good on you Brett!

But the graffiti on the wall was not fake. Why did these guys vandalize these properties? Who were these guys? And why did it take so long for me to learn that those who were affected by the war lived well beyond 1865?

There were some pretty competent draftsmen who made the graffiti! There were all sorts of drawings with which I'm smitten! There are portraits, drawings of animals, and some great cartoons.

But the majority of the marks on the wall are text, and the majority of that text names the soldiers who passed through the houses for one reason or another.

And I found the veteran I'm going to research in the National Archives tomorrow in D.C. I don't know anything about him at this point except that he was a Union soldier. I've never done this type of research, and man is it fun! I will better be able to help my kids at school because of this trip, I'm sure. I don't know how the content will matter, but I hope it does. The form of this study, though, will definitely help because I'm going to use it as a model!

Then I had Chinese food for dinner. Yep. Kung Pao tofu ties into the theme of American Civil War very well.

Zaijian, lao pengyou!

Day 21: Leaning Into History

I couldn't sleep past 4:10am. So now I think that sleeping outside is good for me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do about that, but I'll think on it. Maybe Val will move into a yurt.

So I got up and went for a run through the city. It was just a big loop. There was a bit more traffic than I expected, but what do I know, really?

And then--what an amazing day at Civil War Graffiti camp! We got to hear a couple of extremely knowledgeable professors and went on a really fun field study!

I know I don't know a lot about the civil war, but today I learned that I really don't know anything about the civil war, other than it was North vs. South--and that ain't even exactly right!

Some highlights from my notes:

While Walt Whitman said that "the real war will never get in the books," I wonder if he wasn't limited to the sick, wounded and dying which he attended. I wonder if there aren't many "wars" being fought in any war. There were profound differences in the North and South, or heck, how else would they come to blows? There is a significant difference between the causes of the war, which are societal, and the motivations behind a soldier's willingness to fight in that war.

There is a bunch more, but you'll have to wait until I present my stuff at school this year!

Then we went to the historic Blenheim house in Fairfax, VA. Union soldiers either camped or were hospitalized here from 1862-3. There is a bunch of information that they left here in the images scribed upon the walls, and it all provides insights into the who and what of the war in that space at that time. But it really brings up a lot more questions, too!

I didn't take the image on the right, but it is fantastic! I can see that as being the intro page to whatever format I apply this information to. Of course, the "1863" ain't too bad either, and I did do that one!

Day 20: Holes in My Socks

I had an amazing and powerful day today. The AirBnB I stayed at had 18 legs in it--sixteen paws and two feet--not including mine.


The girl I stayed with rescues animals, and she said she goes for the geriatric and black cats because most others don't. Plus, she found a stray dog just wandering around. He was a beagle something, and he was adorable!

There was an invisible cat that I was lucky enough to see four times. But he never even talked to me. The talkative cat, well, he talked to me. And the princess? She just claimed me!

But please don't tell the boys! They'll hate me!

I slept outside, again. That is five days in a row. I have to say that I am well rested. I loved it! I don't know how I'm going to get Val to sleep outside. Here is my view from this morning!

I got to Arlington and checked in at the exact moment that my roommate did! It was crazy. And do you know what's crazier? He has a big read beard, he was waring sandals, cargo shorts, and a t-shirt too! It was really weird! Really. Weird.

We had a great first meeting at the "Graffiti Houses: The Civil War From the Perspective of Individual Soldiers," where we are making a study of Civil War graffiti. The idea is to start with a name of a soldier who left his mark, research the name through the National Archives, put it into a context, and use a digital tool to tell that soldier's story. I'm still in awe and amazed that I get to do this!

And I'm really looking forward to using this model of study in the classroom for my kids!

A note from the meeting:
The future history is at the mercy of those who leave their mark now, and those who cannot are left to fade away. Except in bureaucratic systems; everyone survives in the records of bureaucracy.

Mad, crappy part of the end of my day:

I was walking back to the hotel in Arlington, where I'm staying for a week. There were three cops surrounding a homeless, black dude with holes in his socks. He was sitting at a table in front of a restaurant, and he had a drink that someone, I guess, bought from the restaurant for him . He was there when I walked by earlier, and he was in the same spot just drinking his drink.

I stopped to listen to him--he was making well-articulated points about his rights to be there and drink his drink, and I studied him and listened. One of the cops said something like "this is federal land, and it can go one of two ways..." The homeless guy was an old dude with holes in his socks sitting at the table drinking his drink.

I walked closer and one of the cops asked if he could help me. I said no. I sat down by the dude and he said to the cops, "What about him? Can he be here?" I just looked at the cops as I took out my phone to film the incident. The dude just wanted to sit. He could be a veteran, someones dad, and he was certainly someone's son. I started filming because the tension was rising.

Really, he was just an old dude with holes in his socks. Do you know who we were sent to fight in Iraq? I only remember old brown dudes with holes in their socks.

I won't fight those guys anymore because they are humans too. And they have every right to sit and drink a drink as I do. After all, I'm just an old white dude with holes in my socks.

Day 19: Running Through Virginia

I left Dena and Donnie's today. My time there was way too short and we had to get a lot in. But I have a bunch more information for whe I do my next one. And I now know how little I know about the tradition. I'll work on that. 

I actually ran six miles because I kept going after the trail ended into a really rugged path. But I got to see a big buck deer! 

When I was done I saw some evidence of a dirty pawed creature checking out our Veterans for Peace sticker. 

Tomorrow starts my Civil War graffiti study. I'm stoked. 

Day 18: Chai, Long Life, Indeed

"Chai" is like a Hamsa or Star of David in that it is an important Jewish symbol. The Chai is usually worn as jewelry and stands for long life or Jewish identity. But yeah, long life to all. Except the A-holes and those who are done with the planet.

The planet is wet here.  I cannot drive my car to the end of this road where I'm staying while building this banjo. So I walked back. It wasn't too far, and I really do love to walk even though I've seen a podiatrist who said that my time running and walking painlessly is waning.

But really, does this foot look so bad?

So I'm living with two dogs here. They are quintessential farm dogs with their own idiosyncrasies. Max is going blind, so he is pretty skittish. And Diesel is a geriatric British Mastiff. So when there is thunder he thinks he supposed to go to the battle lines and protect the Roman captains, at least his DNA tells him that!

When I was in the army they encouraged us to march. Encouraged highly, that is. The rucksack was about 50lbs, and then there is all of the other gear. The distance was not too bad, only 15k or so. But, damn, those hills. Ft. Leonardwood, MO, and in December. I remember that we were picking up walnuts because we never got enough food. Never!

Today was fitting it all together. It is a slow process that I rushed because I had to be done by today. Dena (http://www.storygourdworkshop.com/) is a deliberate person that some may mistake as slow. But, nope. She's just deliberate. And what great energy to be around! Really, make time to learn from this builder!

The gourd and skin were dry enough to work with, so it was a lot of slow trimming and cutting.

The object is to get the gourd, which is an organic shape, to sit into the wood neck. So there is a lot of geometry and calculus involved, but I don't do calculus. I cannot even begin to figure that out. But at least I can geometry! It took a lot of time, but I got the gourd looking good on the back.

The front is a different story. There is a pretty big gap. I have so much finishing work to do on the machine, so I decided to carve some spirals there, just like I will on the fifth peg hole.

Did I tell you this is hickory? I would never have chosen to use this to make an instrument. Hickory is really hard. This is from my wood bible, the wood-database.com: " Difficult to work, with tearout being common during machining operations if cutting edges are not kept sharp; the wood tends to blunt cutting edges. Glues, stains, and finishes well. Responds well to steam bending."

Yes to all of this!

I eventually got it to where I wanted it, though, except for the finishing and polishing, which consists of getting tool marks out and doing the low relief carving.

That's right. 3.5 days to make this guy from a big old chunk of 100 year old hickory. This was an amazing challenge that I couldn't have accomplished without Dena's help. Sure, I made a pretty nice gourd banjo on my own, but I'm now worlds ahead of just one build now. Thank you, Dena!