This piece I needed was gold and made of two different chains, a longer one that carried a locket and a shorter one that held what looked like a stick. The locket I immediately loved because it eerily had a bird on it that matched a tattoo on my wrist. Once I opened it, I also found two adorable sepia pictures, each with a portrait of a young boy, one chubby, one not. “What’s with the stick,” I asked Ansley. I liked the locket enough that it really didn’t matter what the stick was, but still I was curious. “It’s something writer’s wore around their necks in the 1800’s to carry their pen or ink.” She had no idea that I had just published my first book that month. The piece clearly belonged to me. Sold.

The bonus was learning that half of my money was going to charity. That’s how Dora Mae works. So I bought another piece for my best friend, Julia. She always wears jewelry. For her, jewelry is more like art in that it adds and changes her already stylish wardrobe. She’s convinced me that I’d probably own less clothes if I owned more jewelry. And if I’m going to start buying more jewelry, it seems I’m going to be spending much more time following Ansley.

Jana: What have you accomplished this morning?
Ansley: This morning I spent time with my three-year-old little girl, Haven. It’s been one of my goals to not to get up and get running if I don’t have to. We call Fridays “Fun Fridays” at my house because we try not to plan anything. Every other day of the week, I’m either working or the kids have scheduled activities, so Fridays are our day for fun.

This morning Haven and I woke up and had nothing to do. My son Cade spent the night at his cousin’s house last night, so we hung out on the couch, talked, and ate breakfast. It was wonderful.

How long have you lived in Orlando?
Since I was born. I’m a native. I grew up three blocks from where I live now in College Park. [Laughs] I know it’s kinda strange to be a native, but my parents were born here and so were my grandparents. My family’s been here for a long time.

What keeps you in this city?
I think community is the best way to say it, both family and friends. My husband’s family lives here too, and he is one of seven kids. Both my sisters live two blocks away, too.

We’ve considered moving several times because of one, Jake’s job, and two, for a change, or what Jake calls “an adventure.” But when it comes down to it I feel like the most important thing in life is our relationships and community. So we’re sticking around. We love it.

Do you want to talk a little bit about Dora Mae and how it was started?
Sure. When my grandmother was cleaning out her house in order to move to a nursing home, she gave me boxes from her attic. I can picture her on the ladder right now. She just started passing them down, box after box. They were old crusty boxes. [Laughs] My sisters and I laid them all out on the floor and just started going through them. We found amazing things, like jewelry she had had for over sixty years and some other antiques that she collected as a young girl. Some of the pieces you could wear as they were, but most of them were out of date, really pretty, but out of date.

Very slowly over time, I started taking the pieces and redoing them.  There were two bead stores I went to—one in Maitland and the other in College Park—that taught me the basics, like how to crimp and wire wrap. So slowly but surely, I started playing with them and then giving them back to my sisters, my mom and cousins. Then, um … people started liking them and noticing them. [Laughs] And I started getting requests, especially from people who had their grandmother’s pieces and wished they could wear them. That’s really how it started. I started making custom orders with family heirlooms and it grew from there.

Where do you find most of your pieces now?
I find them mainly at antique shows where there are a ton of dealers. Like, there’s one called the Renninger’s Extravaganza up in Mount Dora. It is three times a year with over five hundred dealers. You’re guaranteed to find some really nice pieces from all over the country there. Then there’s great shows in Atlanta, Charlotte, New York and really all over the country.

Wherever I go, I always stop in antique stores.  Small towns are the best. My mom and I have taken a Florida tour, and we’ve gone through Deland, Leesburg, Ocala and all the little, tiny towns in between that have great antique stores, mainly because they have an older population. People tell me all the time, “You can’t find all of these pieces in Florida!” And I don’t. But Florida is a great place to find vintage jewelry.

That’s surprising because we’re much younger than most states. How do you think the vintage jewelry gets here?
I think because a lot of grandmothers live here. [Laughs] There are a lot of estate sales here, too. I try to go to estate sales, but I need such a large quantity of pieces, that sometimes, it’s not worth my time. I wish I could do more of that, cause I do love ‘em.

Roughly, how many hours do you spend combing antique shops?
It’s in chunks, so it’s kinda hard of hard to say. For each collection, I’d say I spend three or four days of concentrated time looking for pieces.

How often do you release a collection?
One for each season, so four times a year.

Where are your local go to antique shops? Unless you don’t want to give away your secrets.
Oh no! No secrets. There is so much vintage jewelry out there, plenty for everybody. I have my own specific style and taste so I don’t ever worry that I won’t find anything.

One of my favorite places, which sadly just closed down, was Two Sisters off of Michigan and Bumby. I loved the owner’s selection. There are many places in New Smryna. There’s the New Smyrna Antique Mall, and Jeff’s Antiques, which I just went to over the 4th of July weekend. There are some great shops in Deland on the main street, but I don’t remember names. Those aren’t hard to get to … and Mount Dora! There are great shops there.

How do you price your jewelry?
I basically double it. So I haven’t yet taken my time into account, which I’d love to do but I’m afraid I’d price people out of being able to buy it. I don’t want to go there.  I want to stay in the hundred range and so I price it based on the piece. I try to stay in the $35-70 range when buying a piece. Then I add the chain, the beads and the clasps and so the price ranges between $100 and $200 for the finished product.

My goal, however, is to have a less expensive line called Mae. My grandmother was a crazy bargain shopper, so I feel like she would love it. If she saw the price of my jewelry now she’d go crazy! So the line Mae would be between $50 and $100. I’d just need to buy less expensive pieces.

What’s the most you’ve ever paid for one piece?
I’ve paid $120-130. It was for a piece I loved. Usually, the older the piece is the more expensive it is. So if I love it, I‘ll splurge on it and hope someone else loves it too. [Laughs]

How do you know ages and styles of vintage pieces?
You know, I didn’t know at first. I’ve been looking at them now for five years, and now I can tell from the sheer amount of jewelry that I’ve looked at. I never took a class. I never read a book. I just talked to dealers. Antique goers love to talk about their pieces, so I try to get as much information from them as possible.

That’s the unique thing about jewelry, the real stuff never dies. It just gets passed on. You never know who may have worn the pieces before you.  Do you think there’s an importance to that?
Absolutely. I want my jewelry to have the look of age. Some pieces look like they’ve never been touched, or they’ve been kept in a box. I usually don’t want those. I want the ones that have been worn.  To me, it makes it so much more fun to wear. I try to include the story of the piece on the back of every price tag. Sometimes I don’t have time to attach them and I often get requests for it if its not there.  It’s a big part of what makes the jewelry so appealing.

Yeah, like my piece and the locket. People ask me if I’m going to trade out the pictures of the two boys in it. And I’m like, “No way! Those boys are staying with me.” I do wonder who they are though.
[Laughs] It’s true. Someone else loved those boys so much that they wore them around their neck. I thought that made it really special. [Laughs] But you’re like me. I rarely change pictures or things like that. Sometimes I’ll but pictures over them, but I like to keep the originals there.

I heard you recently spent time in the New York offices of People magazine, how did that go over?
It was so much fun. I had a blast. A friend works there and thought the people who work with her would love my work, and the show went really well. There was such a great response. It was definitely a confidence booster for me, because I’ve only ever had shows in my neighborhood. I’ve expanded to Winter Park, but that’s it. [Laughs] It was great for me to get outside my own environment. It’s inspired me to keep doing what I’m doing.

Is there ever a challenge to selling your jewelry because it’s something that can’t be massed produced?
Yes, there is. So many times I’ve considered reproducing if I could find a quality manufacturer, but I can’t ever bring myself to do it. It’s part of the charm. I personally love one of a kind jewelry. Anthropologie has great appeal because it has that vintage feel and charm, but there is a hundred of them all over the place. Vintage for the masses is wonderful, but there is something extra special about the real thing.

I don’t think Dora Mae is about becoming a big business and mass producing. To me, Dora Mae is a creative outlet and a way for me to express myself and serve our community. At this point in my life, that’s perfect for me. We’ll see where God leads me in the future.

What made you decide to give half of your proceeds to charity?
Honestly, it was what I felt I wanted to do. When people started responding and Dora Mae started growing, I realized that I wouldn’t stay motivated to do it just to have a bigger amount of money in my bank account. That would not be inspiring or motivating to me. It had always been a hobby up until then, so to turn into this business—well, some of the joy was lost in the idea of that. So I prayed about it. I felt like God wanted me to release the business to him and trust him with it.  He wanted it to be about loving others. And it’s been such a joy. I’m so glad that’s the direction it’s gone.

More than a jewelry maker, you’re a landscape artist, a mother and wife. How else do you define yourself?
You know, this year identity has been a huge part of my life. We spend so much energy trying to define ourselves, but I believe that God, as our creator, is the only true identity giver. I don’t want Dora Mae to just be “Let me make something beautiful and unique so that others can see and appreciate how creative I am.”  That would be all about me and building up of who I am. There’s something empty to that. Actually, it’s not empty, it’s just not ultimately satisfying. You think you’re going to be satisfied from defining yourself by your talents or abilities or by reaching your goals, but it always leaves you wanting more.

It kind of goes along with how I feel God called me to do this for others. More importantly, though, I feel like he called me to do it for him. I’ve created an outlet that I can love both him and others through.  That’s been part of my identity: I am his dearly loved child that enjoys creating in order to love both him and those around me. I love that … and to me it’s way better than defining myself based on what I’m good at or what will give me the greatest sense of accomplishment.

I am also a mother, and a wife and a friend. Relationships are what I prize the most.

And what are your plans for the rest of today?
[Laughs] I don’t know.  When I go home, we’ll have our huddle. I’m gonna leave it up to the kids. Fun Friday is their day.

*Interview Date: July, 9 2010

Check out Ansley’s Dora Mae line at www.doramaejewelry.com. Also, there is a trunk show this weekend, July 17th, 12-4pm, at Sultre Boutique in Winter Park. Come see us!

“You should come into the salon one day and just listen to my clients talk,” Lisa says to me. “You wouldn’t believe the stories you’d hear.” She’s cutting my hair.

“I bet,” I reply.

“No really. We could just sit you in the corner with your recorder, and you’d be able to write a book about it no doubt.”

I laugh.

“I’m serious,” she snaps. In the mirror, I can see her pointing the scissors at me.

“True. I bet someone’s done it before. I can just imagine all the dirty secrets that come out during a hair cut.”

“For real. I think we should set up a web cam over there.” She points to the corner of the salon, above the hair dryers, with her finger, not the scissors.  “That way people could watch from home and be entertained for hours.”

I smile and say, “You may be on to something.” But what I think is this: Hairdressers are the most powerful people in the world.

Hairdressers hold our secrets. They get us to do things we’re not sure of, like cut all of our hair off or dye it red. They give us relationship advice, and also tell us what to do next time we bump into our exes. Like we are children, they ask us to put on a cape, spin us around in a chair, pump us full of air, drop us to the floor again, and all while doing things to us we’ve been told is bad, like whizzing sharp objects close to our eyes and ears.  They control our mirror time. They tell us when we’re using the wrong shampoo. They allow small hairs to spill into our eyes, and then blast us with a big brush full of powder and say, “Better?” More than anyone else in our lives, even our mothers, hairdressers cross into our personal space and we allow it. Actually, we willingly pay for the invasion and we do it for one reason alone: we want to look and feel beautiful.

So I wanted to know what runs through the mind of someone on the other side of the chair. I asked Lisa for this interview.

Jana: I want to know what kind of dirty secrets were exposed in the salon today?
Oh my god! A good one was shouted out on the floor today, but I don’t know if I’m at liberty to talk about it. [Laughs] Let’s skip this question and come back to it later.

What do you think clients expect from you when they sit in your chair?
Magic. Miracles. Reinvention. I don’t think they know what to expect! What they’re not expecting is me to sit down and find out who they are, and create a look based on that. You can’t create a look for somebody if you don’t know who they are. I like to give myself fifteen to twenty minutes to figure that out.

How much money is too much when it comes to hair?
Hair is an outfit that you wear on your head everyday. You can’t take it off.  So think of your favorite pair of jeans. Do you wear those everyday? [Laughs] You would if people didn’t say anything. So why should your hair be regarded any differently? I don’t think you can put a price tag on a great haircut. I always tell people “Never get your hair or your cosmetic procedures on sale!”  You get what you pay for.

What goes into the process of choosing stylists to work in your salon?
In my salon we’re a family. We’re artistic people who work together as a team. Creative people can get very temperamental. You’re familiar with hairdressers … our kind can bite.  For me, it’s about putting together a balance of people that become a family, and not having anyone that has a diva mentality.

It’s chemistry. When I bring in a new Lamb, I basically bring them in on a trial basis to see how they “fit.” If the chemistry is right, then there’s solace in the room. Having that harmony is the most important thing. It helps keep the creative process in balance.

What drew you to having a Thornton Park location?
I’ve been here for thirteen years. As a matter of fact, I got here before the sidewalks did. There wasn’t much of anything on Washington Street at the time except Dexter’s and a really cool shoe store. My first apartment was on Harwood Drive. I had no furniture. I was eighteen years old, and didn’t care. It was more, “What am I going to wear to go out,” my mattress on the floor, my cassette player, my cat, Chester, and Visage.

Once I moved to James Street, I’d walk by this place on the way to the Sev [7-Eleven]. It didn’t have the ivy yet, and it was mustard colored. I had never noticed it before and I don’t know why, but it stopped me in my tracks.  I fell in love. It wasn’t available at the time. Still, I walked by it all the time.  I think it was fate, because one day a hairdresser I knew called my roommate to gossip. When she told me that someone was opening a salon downtown, and it just so happened to be in that spot. I flipped out!

I had known the guy that was opening up the place from competitions. I was working in Altamonte back then, and one second away from moving to New York.  There was nothing open downtown … nothing for me, anyways. I had to get out of suburbia—I was dying. Sorry Altamonte Springs. No offense. Loved ya, needed ya at the time. But I really wanted to get into the Thornton Park neighborhood.  I like being down here. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m in Orlando. It’s historic and quaint. People come in here and they go, “Oh, this reminds me of __________.” That’s what I like about it.

So anyway, I pushed my way in. I knew I was going to lose all my clients, and I didn’t care.  I took a big gamble. He hired me, and I don’t know that he had a choice. I knew from that moment that I’d have this place one day. Ten years later, it became true.

What has changed the most in Thornton Park in the past decade?
Holy crap.  It’s amazing. I look around me and I don’t even recognize this neighborhood anymore. It’s changed so much. The change has been mostly good with a few exceptions. For the better, lots of new local businesses have opened up and the city is now coining it the “Thornton Park Shopping District.” I love seeing people and dogs outside, and people gathering for Magic games. It’s way more pedestrian-friendly, and alive!

For the worse, I’ve seen some historic buildings and homes get destroyed in this process. Basically, the city overextended themselves in building down here. High-rise condos—not a fan. Blocking the view of the city—not a big fan of that either. Other than those two things, I think Thornton Park has really grown to be a place that the locals can come and hang out.

Have you always lived in Florida?
Pretty much. My family moved down here in’72 from New York. My dad moved us out of the cold and down here to open up an ice cream and sub shop called Sweet Treat, and we’ve been here ever since.

Where did the name Lambs Eat Ivy come from?
My dad. It’s a song. He used to sing it to me years and years ago when I was little. It goes, “mairzy doats and dozey doats and little lamzy divy.”  I never knew that it was a real song though. My dad was quite the character. He was always singing, and laughing and playing, a real entertainer. He was so funny. I had always thought he had made the song up, just being silly.  Then about five years ago, a friend of mine was filling in at the desk of the salon I worked at and he started singing it! I stopped dead in my tracks, turned around and said, “What are you singing?” He sang me the lyrics and I realized for the first time it was a real song. Don’t laugh. It’s true.

“Lambs Eat Ivy” is my ode to the building. There’s really no ivy on it. It’s creeping fig, but “Lambs Eat Creeping Fig” doesn’t really sound catchy now does it? [Laughs] I really like the name because it makes people scratch their heads when they walk by.  It confuses them. That’s my favorite part. I didn’t want the name to have anything to do with hair. I wanted it to be very playful and nostalgic, like we are.

What celebrity is rockin’ good hair at the moment?
Michelle Williams. Love the crop … ohhh my god, so sexy! I like it when a woman is confident enough to wear a crop and own it. That to me is so much more beautiful than trying to blend in, or become one of the Housewives of Whatever-County-You-Live in at the moment. [Laughs]

Also, I’ll say Rihanna. She’s really rockin’ that ’80′s cut. I love that we’re bringing that back. This is the first time in my career that I’m actually getting to repeat something I’ve done before. I didn’t get to do ‘70’s but I get to relive ’80’s fashion. How fun is that?

What’s going on with men’s hair these days? Some dudes seem to be working harder than the women to have good hair.
That’s a good point, and I’m glad you brought that up.  Men aren’t afraid to spend money on their hair and they also appreciate details. We have a very large male clientele. They’re getting their eyebrows done. They’re getting all “man”icured. It’s great.

I wouldn’t say the men are working harder than we women though. A few do like to bust out the flat iron every now and again, but I think it’s nice to see men having more fun with their hair.

I heard on the Today show the other day that magazines are now putting women with short hair on the cover for the first time. Do you think there’s some kind of taboo placed on women with short hair?
No. Not anymore. There were some pioneers who got it out there, like Twiggy and Mia Farrow. Then came Sharon Stone, Winona Ryder, and Halle Berry. It’s been going on for a long time, so for them to say it’s “the first time” wouldn’t be true. And those are some pretty sexy women, wouldn’t ya say?

I think what happened is we got stuck. I saw it and was bored to tears. Long hair is a safe, pretty place for women. But I think the launch of reality TV has veered women into a new mainstream look. Think about it. People want to look like what they see on Housewives, the Kardashians, The Bachelor. That’s what women are told is pretty. It’s a shame really. At the end of the day, a woman should choose a look that makes her feel amazing. That’s really what it’s all about.

Is there a most requested look at the moment?
Bobs are back. They’ve been back for a while. Jenny McCarthy started it.  People tend to give credit to Posh Spice, Victoria Beckham, but it was actually Jenny McCarthy that brought the bob back in.  We’re adding more texture to it, but women are rocking stronger looks now, which I like.

Do you want to talk about what’s going on in the Gulf of Mexico right now?
Let’s do it! I’ve been known to climb up on a soapbox every once in a while.  My clients know that about me.

Tell me about how hairdressers are contributing to the clean up.
Matteroftrust.org is an organization that’s rallied hair salons—actually anyone can do it whether you have a business or are an individual—to send hair clippings to make booms. The booms are the big things in the ocean that look like giant sausage links. They’re nylons stuffed with hair clippings, with netting around it.  Human hair absorbs oil better than anything. It’s our best natural resource. Cool right?

We’ve been doing our part. At the end of the week, we send our clippings to matteroftrust.org. They have warehouses that have been donated to them all along the Gulf coast. So the people are all banning together, but I feel like we’re stuck waiting on BP.  The Gulf of Mexico doesn’t belong to BP and it doesn’t belong to the United States. It belongs to the planet and the creatures that live in it. I was on Facebook the other day—I’m friends with matteroftrust.org there—and they posted something to BP about having someone call them. No one from BP has reached out to them yet. They are waiting with booms galore. It’s so frustrating and sad.

I know. It’s blowing my mind that we can’t stop this oil leak.
How do you stop the planet from gushing? We pulled the cork on it. So what the power of that means is unknown. How do we stop that? It would have been nice to have a preventative catastrophic protocol. I find it ironic that the one guy that survived the explosion—and those poor guys that died on the rig, by the way, no one is paying them any attention, which is sad—but the one guy that lived is the one that blew the lid on the seal being broken. It’s Karma.

Humans did this. Now, I’m a Pisces so bare with me, but we deserve what we have coming to us. My heart breaks for the creatures that live in that ocean.  That’s their home. Sharks don’t swim into you’re living room and bite you while you’re watching TV, you know? We go into their house everyday, whether we swim or boat. We throw garbage and oil in there. It’s unfortunate. What’s going to happen? We’ll see. The good thing is that nature is containing it, and that’s an odd miracle.

I still say a giant hairball should do it. It stops up my showers. I say throw it in there. If we’re willing to throw golf balls in there, it can’t be too far off.

Tell me about Shampooch, an event that is coming up at the end of June.
Shampooch is a dog washing fundraiser that we host every year here at the Lambs Eat Ivy salon. We are very affectionate towards our four-legged friends, and any animal really. As a group, the hair salon went up to the SPCA to volunteer. I had just reopened the salon and didn’t have the time that the SPCA required—they ask a certain amount of your time, and rightly so. So I figured, what’s the use of having a business if I can’t give back something to the community? I tend to get over-caffeinated and a little crazy when I’m working. And one day, I came up with the idea of a dog wash. I thought, if people can have car washes, why not a dog wash? And it just spiraled from there.

In a short period of time, we put together our first dog wash and raised $1200. We were so proud. We were out of our minds, actually.  With its success, we continued to host one every year and each time have doubled what we made the previous year. Last year we raised over $6,000 for Pet Recue By Judy. This year we hope double or triple that for Harbor House.

Why is the Harbor House important to you?
We choose a different local shelter to raise funds for each year. The Harbor House is trying to build a kennel for pets of abused women. Do you remember Shannon Burke? The deejay that shot his dog and “accidently” hit his wife by ricochet … ahem, likely story. Anyways, it will prevent situations like that. Almost fifty percent of women in abused relationships will not leave if they have a pet and nowhere to go with their animal. Imagine being abused by the person you’re in love with. It’s very confusing and painful. Then to have to make the decision to leave without the one thing that has been in your life unconditionally, your pet! I would never be able to do that.

A lot of people in Orlando don’t know that the Harbor House is trying to build a kennel, so we’re trying to spread the word for them through this event. So bring your dog! We’ll do the rest. There will be dog washing, and professional portraits going on inside the salon. It’ll be fun. This neighborhood is packed with people with dogs.  This year we’re doing a whole giant set-up on Washington Street basically a giant puppy party. All the businesses are getting together and becoming a part of Shampooch. It’s so great to see.

Okay. One last question, and I have to ask: balding men, what should they do?
I’m so glad you asked! There are two things I want to talk to you about, balding men and graying men.  Men, if you’re going gray do not color your hair. Gray is sexy, is it not? Men need to know that. It’s a benefit they get that women don’t. We get spinster they get sexy. Good for you men. Own it!  It makes you look more expensive.

Now for balding men, they should cut it short and own it! Don’t even worry about it. Just don’t leave five strands up on your head. Um … we can see that. [Laughs] Seriously, it’s not about the hair it’s about the man.

And what about that dirty secret you were gonna tell me earlier?
Tricky, Jana … very tricky! [Laughs] We don’t kiss and tell at Lambs Eat Ivy.

*Interview Date: June 3, 2010

To go on and get your hair did at Lambs Eat Ivy, call 497-245-7006.

I don’t know if I was ever formally introduced to Mikey. We just happened to be at the same places, at the same time, enough times, that we became aware of each other. Then one day we were no longer strangers, but hugging friends, and all this happened without any real conversation, just the informal talk that bar flies embrace, the “Hey, what’s up?” and “How’s it going’s?” Of course, Mikey’s always done more than just sit around the bar and make conversation. He plays music for people, like me, that need it.

I had seen DJ Kittybat spin at many places like Bar B Que bar, Firestone, Cleo’s, and a Florida Film Festival after party, but I didn’t realize he was big time until I found him on the stage of House of Blues. It wasn’t that he was performing on a large stage, or the fact that he was sharing the spotlight with bigger names like A-Trak, DJ Jazzy Jeff and Matt & Kim that made me feel this way. He simply filled the room with music and passion and love. He was in his element, and I loved watching that.

Jana: What are three things on your mind at the moment?
Mikey: A broken needle that I need to fix on my turntable. This salad that I’m eating, because it’s my favorite. And, um, I’m happy to have good weather right now. It’s not that Florida shitty weather … not yet.

Why the name Kittybat?
I had a couple of names that I was playing around with, I think one of them was DJ Cassettes and some other stuff I don’t remember.  I came into work at Park Ave Cds and I saw this [CD] cover for Melt Banana. Do you know them? They’re from Japan. They sound like they’re goin’ a million miles an hour, like “Na, na ,na, na na, na,” but it’s controlled chaos. It’s not shitty. The bass player is like three feet tall, and she’s all over the place. She’s amazing. And the guitar player always wears one of those Sars masks and he makes the guitar sound like laser beams. I’ve never heard that before.  There’s a cute girl who sings. She’s real high-pitched like a chipmunk. But they’re awesome, and tight.

So they have this cover, and I forget what the album is, but it has this cat-bat thing on it. I thought it was funny. Of course, whatever I think is funny, no one else usually thinks is funny.  So I just started using that name because I started meeting a lot of other deejays.  I wanted to have fun with it. Everyone else I was meeting sounded like X-Men heroes: DJ  Splice and Dice, Cut You In Half and Wolverine. [Laughs] I was like screw that, I’m just gonna have fun with it.

I’ve stuck with it, and it’s funny. At first, it was like, Who’s Kittybat? People thought I was a girl or some shit. Now, everyone’s like, “Hey, Kittybat, what’s up?” I kinda hate the name now, but I’m stuck with it … and fine with it.  [Laughs] It’s all in good humor, I guess. I’ve always liked the name Lemonade Thunder, but it’s never takin’ off.

Describe your style.
I think I sound old school. What got me into deejaying is watching movies like Breakin’, all that old school stuff. The way deejays play hip hop—and there was hip hop music before there was hip hop records—they were playing it with other music, like Queen’s “We Will Rock You” or some disco or punk song.  They weren’t playing hip hop, but their style was hip hop. That’s what I try to do.  I play a little bit of everything but I’m overall influenced by hip hop. I’ll play rock, but I’m gonna scratch in a NWA song.

Is there a certain person or thing that inspires you?
As far as deejaying goes? One person who’s really inspired me is this guy out of Arizona called Z Trip. He’s pretty big in the deejay circles. He’s opened up for millions of rock shows. The first time I heard one of his mixes it blew my mind. He started off with Oasis’s “Wonderwall” and then he threw in an instrumental of Jurassic 5. To hear someone do that with current music, and new records … it just blew my mind.  If I ever get frustrated or run out of ideas, I go back and listen to one of his mixes, or check out his web site to see what he’s up to.

How did you start deejaying?
It happened way late for me. I didn’t start deejaying until I was twenty-five or twenty-six, now I’m thirty-two. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but I was touring with my band [The Attack] for a long time.  At some point, I started borrowing friends turntables. Remember Room 39? Well, we used to deejay there on Tuesday nights. We weren’t doing anything but puttin’ on some records and enjoying a few drinks. Then, I kept practicing and borrowing tables. Eventually people wanted their tables back, so I bought my own.  I caught the bug, and just kept with it.

How did you go about building credibility?
Just going out and doing it, and finding places lucky enough to let me be bad for awhile before I got good. I never gave up.  Eventually, I got good because I had to. I had to hold down a night, no matter what.

What’s happened to your career since music has gone digital?
Just a lot more learning. I used to hate on guys using CD players, and this and that. As soon as I let that go, I embraced the technology that was coming around. It was hard to get used to.  It made me learn, which I appreciate now.

I think that technology is cool. It gives you things to do. You’re no longer limited. I appreciate it. I just hate having to turn around everyday and learn something new. That’s my only gripe.

If you’re a good deejay, technology doesn’t matter as much.  It’s not gonna make a bad deejay good, or even a good deejay bad, well maybe if they rely on it too much. As long as you stay on top of your game, you should be good.

How much money do you think you’ve spent building a library?
Oh man, I don’t even know. We’ll say a zilljillion.

Where do you go to get new music?
Fortunately, I work in a record store so I’m forced to hear new music. That’s a huge plus. A record convention comes into town every three months and those are always nice. Any time I do any sort of traveling, I hit up an independent record store. There are some cool sites online, too. Even on EBay you can find stuff you’re looking for. So as long as I have the time, I look everywhere.

I saw you last year at the HOB Bacardi event with A-Trak, Matt & Kim, and DJ Jazzy Jeff. A-Trek seems to have a huge following.
He’s always been huge. He’s been deejaying ever since he came out of the womb.  Nah, really he started deejaying when he was fifteen. He deejayed for Kanye West, he’s won every competition, and all before he was old enough to drink. He’s awesome.

I like to see where deejays go. A-Trak started doing these hip hop competitions and he’s evolved from a concert dee jay to doing really hard dance stuff. It may be not for everybody, but I like that he’s doing what he wants. He’s not being told what to deejay. He’s trying new things and killing it. He’s a fun one to look out for and watch.

Do you ever become conflicted between playing music you love and playing requests?
No, because it’s usually taken care of a head of time. I never walk up to situations where they tell me to do one thing and I want to do another. If I’m doing a regular night, I always ask, “What kind of music are you looking for?” And then I either answer, “Yes, I can do it,” or “No, I won’t.”

If I’m doing a one time event, or whatever, I go ahead and knock that ball straight out of the park. I’ve had one situation where I was told one thing, and the guy that booked me didn’t show up, and the people were expected another and I bombed for a good two to three hours. I swore I’d never do that again. I still got paid but still … now, I’m like tell me every song you want to hear. I may not play it but I want to know. It just ends up bad when there’s no communication.

What is the number one requested song?
There’s no number one request. People are all over the place.

Phew. I thought you were going to say something like Beyonce’ or something.
You’d be surprised.  I’ll be playing a straight hip hop set with Tribe Called Quest and maybe some new Kanye West, and someone will come up to me and say, “Hey, will you play some hip hop?” You wouldn’t believe it. I don’t know if it’s just this town or what. I’ve been all over and this doesn’t happen anywhere but here.

This town has a lot of weekend warriors. They come into Cleo’s and it’s free, so I get it. But it’s crazy.  Every weekend there’s a whole new set of people, all new requests. I want to be like, “Haven’t you ever been here before? First of all, there’s a sign above the booth that says no requests, and I’ve never played Journey in this place in my entire life.” [Laughs]

[Laughs] I think the weekend warrior’s anthem comes from Journey.
Yeah, I get asked for them a lot. That and whatever new song Lady Gaga has out.

Is there a request you won’t play?
There’s lots of songs I won’t play. I will not play anything by Journey.  [Laughs]

Are you able to survive by deejaying alone?
Close. I still work over at the record store. I like it. I can’t make a living off a deejaying alone, but if I wasn’t deejaying I wouldn’t have a house. I’d be on the streets.

Why do you think it’s important for a city to have an independent record store?
There are so many reasons. I’ve spent my whole youth in record stores. It shaped me into loving music, appreciating music and realizing what music does for people. I hope that there’s still people out there that care and has that same appreciation for independent record stores as I do.

What I like about the record store I work at is that it’s been open for twenty-five years.  That’s a big deal. There are so many reasons why an independent record store is needed to support the community. Imagine this town without it. I think about that sometimes. God forbid, but if anything ever happened to Park Ave Cds and it wasn’t around anymore—I can’t even imagine that. There’d be no communication among artists and venues. Where would our local talent go to promote themselves? The thing about this town, unlike New York or Chicago, is we only have one independent record store. They have five or so. We only have one of everything it seems, one good record store, one good venue, one this or that.  If it shuts down, that’s it.

I know what you’re saying. We just lost our downtown independent bookstore and it’s sad.
It’s very sad. Even on Park Ave there used to be a Walden Books. Okay, so it’s not an independent bookstore but there was something to it.  It’s a place for people to meet and talk and be face-to-face. So many of those little things—and I’m all about the little things—can be huge things at the end of the day. It makes a difference in a town.

What do you like about living in Orlando?
I was born in Monterey, California. My dad was in the military so we moved to Hawaii and then when he retired we moved to Austin. That’s where I grew up as a kid. I was there until about middle school and I’ve been here ever since, besides going back and forth to visit my family in Puerto Rico. Wait. You asked about what I liked about Orlando. [Laughs]

I think Orlando is a really cool town and no one appreciates it. If you’ve lived here you’re whole life, or you haven’t gone out to other cities, you don’t realize how cool this town really is.  I just had a friend move to California, and he was back in a few months. I was like, “What happened?” He said, “Man, I just like it here better.”

What makes this city cool?
There are so many cool things to do, and most of them are for locals only. You have to know where to go, like Red Fox or Enzian.  Now, there’s that Imperial bar that opened up in Washburn [Imports], that furniture store. I was there two weeks ago for a friend’s graduation. You walk in, they have furniture and a really nice bar, and everything is for sale. You can get a glass of wine or a beer, walk around, and if you really get busted you buy $500 spice rack. [Laughs] I wish we sold alcohol at Park Ave Cds.

There’s something to the landscape, too. I-4 is like the divider between tourists and locals.  Tourists just don’t know about the city and things like this, Mills Market. I don’t think we do a good job promoting those kinds of things, but then again I don’t mind it either. Like now, we’re just sitting here chillin’ and hanging out and there are no tourists around. That’s kind of nice too. There are cool things to do here, you just have to look for it. People should stop going to the same bars every night, and see what else is out there.

What do you not like about Orlando?
Besides my friends and the people I hang out with most of the time,  other people get on my nerves. There’s a lot of transients that come and go, they don’t care about the town.

What else? People don’t know how to drive in this town! They’re horrible drivers … and sometimes it gets too damn hot.

If you could perform anywhere in the world, where would you go?
That’s a good question. [Pauses] I guess I’d have to say Amsterdam. I didn’t see enough of it when I was there the last time. I was on tour with my band and we had one day off and one day to play. With the tour, you’re in and out.  So I’d love to go back and explore that place more.

Would you ever want to tour as a deejay? And which profession do you think you’d like more?
Yeah! I’m all for it. When I do the deejay stuff, I want to do the band stuff. And when I do the band stuff, I want to do the deejay stuff. [Laughs]

How does the copyright thing work as deejay?
[Laughs] I have no idea. That’s one of the reasons why mixed tapes are hard to find. They only make limited runs. Like, I may have sold a hundred to two hundred albums. Bigger deejays sell a thousand here, or five hundred there.  Basically enough to stay under the radar or until someone sends you a cease and desist. Then you can’t do anything.

Honestly, I’d like to give the artists money, but at the same time we expose their music to a lot of people that wouldn’t have found it before. So, to me, it falls on both sides. It’s all about your attitude and how you treat it.

So what’s next for you?
I just want to get my ass into recording more.  I’ve been deejaying for how many years and have never had an official mix done? I finally got the one done that I gave you, that was my first album, and there’s one more. I just want to keep releasing stuff, and having something tangible to sell. In the past when I’ve deejayed, people have come up and asked me for a mix, and I was like, “I don’t have one, sorry.” Now, I’m like, “Yes, yes, yes!”

*Interview Date: May 14, 2010

To buy DJ Kittybat’s album Peanut Butter Summer Jams, go to DJKittybat.blogspot.com or Park Ave Cds.

I usually prepare for interviews. Granted it’s not very much work because the people I interview generally aren’t people that are interviewed. Or in other words, they’re not celebrities that have much content on the web but more of what Arrested Development sang about in the nineties. They’re your “everyday people.” Still, I’ll Google a name or find someone who knows this person so that I can probe a bit and come prepared to the interview with a list of questions. However, none of that happened in this case.

I was sitting in Chick-fil-a minding my own business and enjoying a number one combo with no pickles and a sweet tea when Lisa interrupted me.

“Hi, excuse me,” she began. “Do you remember me?”

She did look familiar. Turns out she’s worked at the Pier 1 Imports I frequent for the past three years.  As she told me this, it all started coming together.

“Anyhow, I went to your book signing. It was absolutely amazing,” she continued. Of course, now she had my full attention. “Mind if I join you?”

Quickly, Lisa jumped into conversation about how she’s been told she should write books, too. She wanted to know how I was published, and was impressed to learn I started my own independent publishing company. My knee jerk reaction to her inquiries were more like, “Oh brother, here we go,” although, I didn’t say that out loud.

“So why do you think you should write books?” I asked her.

“People have told me I should tell my story,” she answered.

“What’s your story?”

“Well,” she said, and then she paused for a brief moment, staring me right in the eye. “My daughter was murdered three years ago.”

I nearly dropped my sandwich.

Before she was too much further into her story, I cut her off. “Look, you obviously are familiar with what I do.  Would you like to tell your story to me? I mean, will you please let me interview you?”

And that’s how this interview happened. There was no set-up date, or any time to do research. I simply pulled out my recorder and said, “Um, okay. So this is the first time I’m completely unprepared for an interview … bare with me. “ And she did.

Jana: What did you have planned today?
Lisa: Well, today I was off work. So I’m trying to sell some of my mini-paintings—praying and hoping something will come along to get me a little further in the art world.

How do you normally go about selling your art?
I don’t have a car so I’ve been walking around to places and selling to people I know. I have some of my big pieces hangin’ downtown in City Arts Factory. I’m gettin’ ready for the library.

What’s happening at the library?
I’m the featured artist there for May and June. I get to hang my work on the first floor, and sell it too. To me it’s pretty special because it’s the first place that’s asked me to hang my work. It’s also a huge place that’s all about learning.

What do you hope to achieve by hanging your art in the library?
I hope to get recognition and get my name out there a little bit more. Hopefully, I’ll make some money from it. For me, I think that my art is a lot more than just art. There is a whole lot attached to it, as far as things I want to do with my life, like helping other people. I feel art is going to be the way for me to own those things.

What inspires your paintings?
Well, I want to do something different, something from my heart, something of my own. I want it to be inspirational. I want my art to give someone something if they need it, or keep them going. I did a series of butterflies once, and I did it because butterflies symbolize transformation. I did that so the person that bought the paintings could relate to whatever transformations they were going through.

What type of paintings do you lean towards?
I don’t know the terminology for it because I didn’t ever take classes for any of it. But I can tell you that I draw lines, and I tell stories with those lines.

How did you know that you were an artist?
Well, my daughter kept giving me that title. I’ve always liked art. I’ve always appreciated beauty in odd things, I guess. It something I’ve always wanted to be. I just never have had the guts to do it. Fear has kept me from doing anything.

What’s been the motivating factor for your recent work?
My daughter was murdered three years ago when she was just fifteen. It’s forced me to become a new person. I want that new person to be the best she can be. I want to use my gifts, and help other people. Do a lot of good. I feel I’ve been given some talent, and I need to use it, not let it just sit there. I have the understanding that all the suffering I’ve been through is actually going to empower me.

Do you mind if we talk about your daughter for a bit?
No! I don’t mind talking about her. It hurts, but I like talking about her. I’m very proud of her.

A picture Lisa carries with her always.

How was she murdered?
It was an older boyfriend that I didn’t know about and two other people.  She was the girl that was found in the retention pound on Lake Underhill and Goldenrod.

It was her older boyfriend?
Yeah. I didn’t know about him. There was a rumor going around that Jackie was pregnant, which she wasn’t. He had already had a girlfriend that was his age. He didn’t want her to find out about my daughter. So his bright idea was to kill her. I guess he thought he wouldn’t have to worry about it. And so, yeah, all three of them, him and his two friends, murdered her.

Do you know what they did to her?
Actually, the story was spared from the media. I asked and prayed for that to happen. I didn’t want it to be this media circus.  I wanted whatever message to be told from my daughter’s story to be a positive one. You know what I mean?

If it would’ve blown up like other stories had at the time, the focus would have been off of the good that could have come from it. I’m thankful. Even the trial was pretty private. People were everywhere but no one talked to us. A lady from The Sentinel told me the person covering the story had had an emergency, and then another person forgot about it. There were all these odd things that prevented the media from having too much access. Still, we do know what happened.

After nine months, the girl that helped [murder Jackie] up and confessed. She said Jackie had been haunting her in her dreams for those nine months, and she couldn’t take it anymore. That’s how we finally got to know what happened.

Apparently, the guy wanted her to stab my daughter. They had Jackie meet them somewhere. I guess Jackie kept trying to leave and saying things like, “I gotta leave. I gotta go home and see my Mom.” She knew something was up, and even called someone to come get her. Anyhow, they kept her there and the girl tried to stab her. Jackie took the knife from her and broke it in half. She was very strong, a Navy ROTC, skilled in martial arts, but I also know she loved them. The girl said that Jackie kept saying, “I love you. Please don’t hurt me.” So when the girl couldn’t stab her, I guess they started wrestling around or whatever and somehow Jackie slipped.  Now, I haven’t listened to the confession myself. I heard this part of it in court. There are some parts that I don’t exactly know about yet, you know? I just haven’t been able to be at that place yet, to listen to it all.

When Jackie slid, I guess one of the guys got a hold of her arms and held her down.  The girl started choking her.  Only she couldn’t finish it. She felt that Jackie still had a pulse. So the guy, her boyfriend, stomped on her throat and dragged her into the water. Until this day, I still don’t know the exact cause of death. During the trial, I made me and my family leave the court room. We didn’t need to see those pictures. It was too much on top of everything else that was going on.

What happened to those three involved in the murder?
Well, after she confessed, the [boyfriend] was already in jail for something else, but he was charged with murder in the first degree and received life. The girl that confessed got thirty years, and when she gets out of jail she will be transferred to Bosnia. Actually, you know in the Casey Anthony thing? She is one of those girls Casey has been writing letters too. Then the other guy got manslaughter, which I wasn’t happy about. He helped. He knew what he was doing. So I think he deserved more than that. I think the jury had some sympathy for him because he had just started hanging out with these people, and at some point he did say to stop.  He still continued to help though.

The way I see it is … I have to be satisfied with that.  It didn’t come out by the police. It came out by more miraculous things. At the trial, it was that girl’s word that held up in court. The police didn’t do the DNA evidence like they were supposed to. They waited eleven months to test under Jackie’s fingernails. They found forty-one hairs on her and didn’t test a single one of them. So they kind of dropped the ball on that. What made the final conviction was the girlfriend that he was trying keep, well, she called him while they were trying to kill my daughter. He answered the phone and she heard Jackie screaming, “Why are you doing this to me? I love you. Please don’t hurt me,” and she testified against him. So the girlfriend he was trying to keep was the one who ultimately testified against him, and the one who had him locked up for life. This came by God, and so I have to be satisfied with it. You know what I mean? They are going to have their own private hell that they have to go through. I have to be at peace with that.

Do you feel that there is such a thing as justice being served?
I feel that if we were a higher social status, and I wasn’t a single mom, things might have been different. I think [the case] would have been more of a priority. A lot of times, when it comes to teenagers, the sheriff’s department blows things off.

How does a mother pick-up and keep going after something like this happens?
It’s definitely not an easy thing to do. Unless you have a strong foundation, it’s hard to see any light at the end of the tunnel. It just doesn’t make sense. It robs you of your identity.  When you’re a parent, especially to someone like Jackie who was such an accomplished child, I wanted her to flourish and do all the good things she was suppose to do. My life became about her. So I think I had to make a lot of conscious choices. Like, for example, with her not being here, I have to live for both of us now.  And if I can’t carry on, then what was it all for?

She wanted to be a motivational speaker when she was eleven, when most kids that age don’t care. I understand that I have to be the voice for her now. For me personally, I have a lot of faith in God.  So I turned everything over to him. It’s amazing how when something so significant is taken away, your eyes see things for what it is, and everything becomes more precious. That was part of the perspective I took. We don’t know when things can be taken away from us. Praying about things and trusting God was a huge part of recovery.  I feel that, for me, painting is not just about painting, it’s about faith, vision and perseverance

When you find out something like this … how … where … um … I’m sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this.
Like, what was my thought process? That’s a horrible story, too.  I was at my job. The police called and asked me, “When was the last time you saw your sister?” I said, “What do you mean? She only works a couple of doors down.” That’s when they told me that they were trying to identify a body, and that they had found my business card in this person’s pocket. Jackie was six-foot-one, so they probably didn’t think of her as a child at first. I told them about some tattoos she wasn’t supposed to get, one for her grandfather and brother.**  They put me on hold. I told the people at my job, “Um, look, they’re trying to identify a body here. If I hit the floor, you know why.” I was on hold for-ever. Sure enough, they came back and I hit the floor.

What they told me was to go home and wait for the police. I went home and the news people were the first to knock on my door.  I didn’t know why they were knocking on my door exactly. I called the police to ask why and they said they didn’t know either. Then I turned on the TV and I seen it—that’s how I found out. I heard, saw, “The girl found in the retention pond is Harriet Jacqueline Curtis.” Before anyone had told me what was going on, I saw it on the news. Do you know I couldn’t watch the news for a year-and-a-half after that? I just couldn’t. That really traumatized me. That wasn’t how I was supposed to find out. No one from the Sheriff’s office even came to see me for three weeks.

So what did you do then? Lock yourself up in the house?
To process information like that [pauses]  … I’ve never been asked this question, sorry … but I want to answer it the right way. [pauses] Okay. Because of my faith, I knew if I was given this it was for a reason.  Of course I was devastated. I loved my daughter, and that wasn’t something I ever saw happening. [pauses] I didn’t really do the whole “Why?” thing because I felt it was silly. There was no way I was going to understand it in that moment anyway. I’m a thinker. I guess at that moment, I was probably stepping towards accepting it. Know what I mean? I couldn’t try to figure it all out, yet. I wasn’t ready.

I don’t know. My whole life I’ve always had it rough. I’ve always had to roll with punches and make adjustments accordingly, adapt. I guess maybe I’m programmed to adapt to things. I don’t know. At that moment, I know I had peace and understanding that came from God and that trumped any other kinds of attempts of understanding.

Not too long after it happened, I asked God, “Help me understand this.” I was reading my Bible a lot back then, and I opened it up right to the crucifix, the part where God willingly gives his son for all of us. I felt he took my daughter for a higher purpose and who am I to argue with that?

Do you have any advice or words of encouragement to any other families that may go through something similar?
Yeah. Eventually, I’d like to start a program to help people go through that process. And to the ones that already have a foundation, to encourage them and let them know other people will see them. Because I’ve been through it, I understand it. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it’s devastating. But being bitter and angry is only going to hurt you.

What do you think about when you think about Jackie?
It varies. Sometimes I see families and I think, “Man, I wish I had that kind of life again.”  Sometimes I see other kids and I smile. It reminds of youthfulness. When I do good things, like paint, I think of how proud of me she is. I see this as a responsibility. I’m supposed to do something with this. I take it seriously. Thinking about it all and what it means. What I’m suppose to give to other people and so on.

And that’s why you’ve turned to painting?
I’ve always wanted to do something creative. Painting is a release. It’s a way to tell myself messages, like when I’m working on a piece that has to do with perseverance, in that same message I’m thinking about what it’s going to take for me to keep going on and how it will translate for someone else. I can paint pretty things, but I want to paint pieces that change people.

What do you think Jackie would tell you if she was here right now?
She’d say, “Stop crying Mom!” She always told me that I was a survivor. The weirdest thing was that she was singing karaoke at this place, and I came in the door and she made me sit down in the front, in front of everyone. She said, “I’m gonna sing ‘I’m a Survivor’ for my Mom because that’s what she is,” and she sang the song. I never forgot that.  I had no idea what that was really going to me for me in the future. I think she did. She informed of a lot of things that I needed to know. I don’t give myself enough credit sometimes. I see me how I see me.

And how is that?
I see myself as … well, here’s a good way of looking at it. My friend asked me a few years back, “If you could be any fish, which fish would you be?” I thought it was a stupid question. But instantly I knew my answer. I said, “I am one of those fish that live way deep in the bottom of the ocean.” Have you ever seem them? It’s pitch black and you can’t see any light down there. Those are the most odd fish because they’re totally transparent, but it’s okay that they’re transparent because they’re insides are bright reds, yellows and blues. That’s the kind of fish that I am.

People that know me can see that I’m a good person. The thing is nobody sees me because I’m at the bottom of the ocean and there’s no light there. This man told me one time, he said, “Lisa, think about it. When man discovered that those fish were down there. What did they do? They spent billions of dollars on equipment to get down there and see those fish.”  So I guess that’s where I feel I am. I feel that I’m beautiful. I’m smart. I have a big heart, and a lot to give.  But no body ever sees me because I’m at the bottom. But I’m ready to be seen. I’m ready for some light.

*Interview date: April, 13, 2010

** Jackie’s brother was born with both physical and mental disabilities. Upon learning the quality of her son’s care would increase under different circumstances, Lisa agreed to doing an open adoption with a wealthier family in St. Cloud. Her son lived thirteen years longer than expected, and passed away just last year. “At least I know Jackie was there to welcome him with open arms,” said Lisa, after I had turned the recorder off.

On my way from the parking lot to the office one day—one of the many cubicles found on the second floor of the Winter Park Village shopping center—I spotted a patch of large mushrooms emerging from the grass. As I got closer and examined further, I discovered they weren’t live mushrooms at all, but instead someone had squished small brown paper bags into mushroom-like shapes and then stuck them neatly into the ground.  “Strange,” I thought. “Who has the time and effort to do that?”

“Doug did it,” said a co-worker. I don’t remember who it was that confessed, but it doesn’t matter. It was five years ago, back when Doug, this other person and I all worked for the same publishing company. What I do remember thinking is, “Why would a grown man plant fake mushrooms in patches of grass?” Little did I know that he was on to something big—even world wide.

I was driving down Mills Ave. when I encountered my second planting. This time I smiled when I saw the faux fungi. I couldn’t help it. I imagined Doug, in the middle of the night, scurrying to arrange all the mushrooms into a bouquet. And then after he’d plant the last one, he’d stand back with his hands on his hips and admire his good work, knowing all the while that someone would react like I had. Brilliant.

Soon, I caught myself searching, wishing for a new planting. I had a new appreciation for the Spore Project because I considered myself in on the secret—even though I had never talked to Doug.

Doug and I worked on opposite sides of the building, so we never had the opportunity to get to know one another. So I had pegged him as “that mushroom guy” until one day in our office, there was a huge mobile occupying a former giant space. “That’s cool,” I said. “Who made that?”

“Doug,” said the secretary.

“Doug,” said my friend Zach the following week.

“Doug,” said my friend Ryan the week after that.

Now that I had a reference, I began noticing Doug’s mobiles everywhere, even in businesses. No one else makes paper mushrooms or mobiles so it’s easy to tag. It impresses me how heavily this artist has left his mark on our city. Orlando’s impressionable canvas needs more of his kind of forward-thinking.

What do you think you’re most known for among the Orlando community?
My good looks for one. [Laughs] Or my mushrooms. I’ve been doing that thing for ten years, so a lot of people have seen them. When people find out that I’m the one that makes them, they scream, “Oh my God! You’re THAT mushroom guy!”

Tell me more about the Spore Project.
In high school, I brown-bagged my lunch. I made this mushroom shape out of my leftover bag because I was bored. It was just a thing I started doing. I kept making them and giving them to my friend every day. She kept them in her locker. When it came time to clean out her locker, out spilled all my mushrooms–it looked pretty cool.

Years later, when I moved to Orlando, I found a way to stick them in people’s yards. At first, it sorta was just something funny I was doing—but everybody liked it so much. I started doing festivals and then people started paying me to make them. Then it got to the point where I was like, “Wow. What else can I do with them?” Since then, some schools have asked me to come in and teach the kids how to make the mushrooms and I created an awareness program to support and promote art in schools. It’s something that I feel is often overlooked.

Do you plot the way you’re going to layout the mushrooms?
No. It’s just kind of controlled randomness, I guess. There’s always a cluster with a few smaller clusters that branch out.

Has a mushroom planting ever backfired?
The only time was when I did Winter Park Village. The manager asked me not to do it anymore via e-mail. I guess the maintenance people had to pick them up. But that’s been it.

Do you take pictures of your work?
Yeah. I used to document every single one of plantings but that got to be too much.

Another art form you’re known for in the community is mobiles. How did you start making those?
I had a friend who had a really large atrium, or lobby, in her house. She wanted a big piece of art.  I kept trying to come up with hanging structures and it evolved into this mobile shape. It was really simple, just a three piece hanging on one line. Then I built another one for a place I worked at the time; they also had a really big lobby. Then it just started. People really liked them and I really enjoyed making them at the time. It became a lot of extra money, but for me it was just a really fun thing to explore. There aren’t many books out there about how to make mobiles. It’s a lot of trial and error and a lot of kicking and screaming.

Do mobiles symbolize anything to you?
Not really. I really like the fact that there is so much going on with them, yet they’re simple and made of basic shapes. You can stare at them for hours and they always change. They react with the environment, like when someone walks by they are light enough to catch the breeze.

Had you seen a mobile anywhere else before?
There was a really big mobile in Washington done by Alexander Calder. I went there with my class in eighth grade. I mean, that thing was massive. It had such a delicate movement, but the pieces were huge. You couldn’t help but wonder how the thing was moving. It was just amazing to look at. I think it inspired me, even though I didn’t even think to start making a mobile until twenty years later.

Where do you come up with your ideas?
They just come. My brain doesn’t stop. I get bombarded by thoughts all the time.

What are the tools and resources you like to use?
For most of my life, it’s just been using stuff I find. I’ve never really had any money to spend on what I want, so it’s always been garbage turned into artwork.

If you had access to any resource, what kind of project would you work on?
I would love to be able to work with a fabricator and create large indoor and outdoor sculptures. I’d like to design the mini version and let somebody else figure out how to build and install it. It’d be so fun to create on a large scale like that.

What else is fun for you?
Making things and creating experiences. I’ve always been a real big fan of immersive environments, places that when you go into them you forget where you are. That’s the feeling I try to evoke with my installations anyway. They’re dark, there’s sound effects and incense so that you might think you’re out in the desert or underwater, rather than in a studio or gallery.

What is the goal of your art?
To create an experience for people, something they can tell their friends about and remember for years to come.

Like your Migration installation? I remember that vividly. How many matchbooks did it take to make that?
4,011

How long did it take you to make?
About a year.

Where did that idea come from?
I was sitting at a bar and playing with a matchbook and it just turned into a camel—it’s like everything I do, an oops! I thought the camel was cute, so I made another one. I don’t know why but I just decided to keep making them.  4,000 seemed like an impressive number so I went for it.

Is making art your full time job?
I do side jobs. Right now, I’m doing some gardening on the side. But yeah, it’s my full time job that I don’t make much money at. It’s what I put my full energy into. I just scrape by doing the other stuff. I want to give art my full attention. It’s something I can’t just half-ass do. I have to keep at it so it will grow exponentially. I’ll eventually get money from it through grants, sponsorships and private donations. I might be sixty-something but … you know.

Do you think Orlando is a good breeding ground for your type of art?
I like it here because you can kind of do anything you want to. I can set up a show in a field, or whatever, and I usually get a good response as long as I’m not doing anything that effects the flow of traffic or damages property. That’s the challenge too, finding places that you’ll make an impact without causing damage. Orlando is still very young which means we have a batter chance of impacting what happens later. We are the pioneers.

Have you ever wanted a normal job?
I graduated with a degree in Industrial Design. So I’ve always wanted to be a designer. I tried to do that, but I couldn’t find anything that I was passionate about. I can dump all my effort into any of my art shows. All my other jobs seem to level out on me very quickly.

What is the hardest part of your day?
I don’t know if I have hard part of my day. I mean, I work a lot but … what do I do? I’ve actually been on a four-month hiatus, just giving myself a break because I’ve been going non-stop for three years. So I guess the hardest part will be trying to stay focused. When I have shows that require thousands of pieces, I just need to think of the big picture. Fatigue can be difficult and fighting loneliness as well. I’m by myself a lot when I work and that gets to be bard. But I have lots of friends–they keep me from going crazy.

Why do you feel it important to educate kids about the arts?
When I was little, I was very shy. Making things was such an outlet for me. I have no idea what would happen to me if I didn’t have art—I don’t sit still very well.  Art gave me a since of pride, even if I didn’t show it to anyone. It teaches kids different perspectives and ways of looking at things that can be applied later in life.

Who are the people that inspired you?
My parents really inspired me. Growing up we always built stuff. My dad was into carpentry and word working. My Mom was into crafts. In the early 70’s everyone was doing that—leather working and macramé. It got me really into building stuff and it helped that my Mom always had materials around for me to use. I also owe a lot to my middle school and high school art teachers–they were extremely encouraging and influential.

Name five artist must haves.
Patience. Drive. Dedication. Humility. And HAVE respect.

I’m intrigued by the fact you didn’t name any materials.
You don’t really need anything. If you have all those virtues, you can do anything. And did I say adaptability? If I didn’t, let’s put that one in there.  There are so many changes in life, and you have to be willing to adapt to those changes.  I think that’s really important. If you are stuck in your ways, you’re going to drive yourself crazy. Things happen in your life that you have no control over. Like, if I went blind, would I still be an artist? Yeah.  I would just do things differently. I’d become more of a sculptor or something, but I wouldn’t just stop being an artist.

What is your biggest secret?
I can’t tell you that.

Okay then. What installation project are you working on now?
Right now I’m working on a few different things, my third U.F.O. project and Migration 5 & 6.  I always work in multiple projects.  Oh, and in May I want to do world-wide mushrooming.  I’m hoping people around the world will set out their mushrooms during that month and send me pictures. Already, I’ve had schools in Finland and Taiwan send me pictures of the kids and their mushrooms.

Do you mind being “that mushroom guy”?
Sure. I can be mushroom guy. My goal is to put one on the moon within twenty years.

*Interview Date: 10/30/09
Learn more about the Spore Project and how to make your own mushrooms at www.dougrhodehamel.com.

It’s true—some of my best ideas have come about while I’m at the bar. I’m not ashamed to say it. It’s just that, unfortunately, most of these epiphanies have never made it to see the next day, except for this one time.

About six months ago, in the dirty, smoke-covered booths of Burton’s in Thorton Park, there was a meeting of the minds. In attendance was, yours truly, college student, free-lance writer and Page 15 volunteer, and also Michelle Cameron and Chris Stephenson who were on the break of starting a film company, only they had no projects, no name and therefore no existence yet. Over a few draft beers, it slowly came to me that Page 15 needed a promotional video to gain sponsorships and also that Michelle and Chris needed a good-hearted project to film. It only seemed natural that I connect the two organizations And so I did. And pretty much, that night, as a bunch of ideas scribbled on dirty napkins, the concept of Cam Road Films was born.

While the idea for the connection may have been mine, I am not responsible for what happened next—although, I’d like to think so because it is absolutely amazing. By the following week, Cam Road Films was an established film company and at the Page 15 young writers camp, shooting not only a promotional video, but also filming a short and long-featured documentary of the non-profit organization. They also had already picked up a few other jobs, one being a short on the City of Pine Castle that just recently has been accepted to an international film festival. This all due to one night at Burton’s and a few bar napkins … well not exactly. Both Michelle and Chris have spent many sleepless nights—they each have day jobs—and many more hours of hard work to make Cam Road Films a well oiled documenting machine.

The following interview was an exchange of favors. Cam Road needed to interview me for the Page 15 doc and I wanted to interview them for my site. Both events happened in my house, with a lot of laughs, and within a two-hour time frame.

*Below are a few excerpts found in Jana Waring’s Who’s That? Discovering Orlando One Interview at a Time. To read more about Cam Road’s founders, buy the book now!

Jana: What is the significance of the name Cam Road Films?
Chris: There is none.
Michelle: [Laughs]
Chris: It’s completely random. We figured “camera” and then we just cut off the “era.”
Michelle: You’re not going to get a straight answer out of him. [Laughs] It means “Chris and Michelle.”
Chris: Yeah, it’s C-A-M. What happened was we were searching—we liked 1204 films and 1204 productions—but then I thought it sounded too trendy. We both really loved the idea and the imagery of a road. We both wanted “road” or “path,” or something that signified not only a physical journey but also the journey of life. That’s what we’re trying to do and that’s what we’re trying to capture. We’re trying to capture someone’s life …
Michelle: … their journey.
Chris: Yeah. We like telling the story of where something starts and where it ends, whether it’s a life, a company, a family, whatever … everything has a story. So how Cam Road came about was …
Michelle: Geez that was a long way to go to get to that …
Chris: It wasn’t that long.

Michelle, what kind of film-type studies did you do in school?
Michelle: I was in the TV Production Magnet Program at Dr. Phillips [High School]. During my first two years, we had such an awesome teacher. He allowed us to do a bunch of creative stuff. So I majored in it in college. I had a kick-ass professor, Tim Wilkerson. He gave us the freedom to do whatever we wanted—a short film, a documentary, a music video, anything. We spent a whole semester brainstorming and talking about ideas and then we put it into action. The first semester, my partner, Luke, and I did a short film called “Prescription.” It ended up winning “Best in Show” at the school.

The next semester I had grand plans to make a music video, with real people in it and everything. But then our teacher started teaching us flash and animation. One day I was drawing in the studio and he said, “That’s really good. I think you should try some animation.” And that’s when it clicked. My first two years in college I majored in photography and drawing—I loved it—but it didn’t click for me. He lent me his Wacom tablet that semester and I literally spent every waking moment drawing on it to make the music video … it also got “Best in Show.” [Laughs]

On the other hand Chris, you are a lawyer. How did you become involved in film making?
Chris: In law school, I took a lot of film-making classes. I took Flash 101 my second year …
Michelle: What? [Laughs] You didn’t take any film classes!
Chris: [Laughs] I know. No, I was the exact opposite of Michelle. I went to law school and didn’t study film at all. I’ve never even studied production, and obviously it shows with my lack of technical skills.
Michelle: That’s not true.
Chris: As far as being creative … I’ve always loved creative writing, which is weird because I don’t like to read. I don’t have the attention span.
Michelle: But you have a Journalism background.
Chris: That’s true. I do have a Journalism background. I like to express myself creatively. When I was a sophomore in high school—back when we were getting the suck-the-life-out-of-writing kind of instruction—I begged my English teacher to do a creative writing project. Finally, she was like, “Fine, do a creative writing project—a short story, two pages.”

So, basically, Cam Road is a passion project, or in other words, a place to exercise your creative energy?
Chris: Yeah, sort of. I haven’t lost the passion to fight for people who don’t have a voice. I do feel like I have lost a little bit of direction because now I have my own practice. And while that’s great because it allows me to do this—it’s a Wednesday and I’m in a t-shirt and shorts, at your house, doing an interview—I feel like I’ve lost my way. I’m helping people who can afford to pay me, a sort of hired-gun.
Michelle: He helped me though.
Chris: I like when I am doing something that truly is helping, not just getting someone out of trouble.

Interview Date: 12/10/2008

*To see the Page 15 promo video, go to www.page15.org. To get your mug in a documentary or contact “The Producer,” go to www.camroadfilms.com.

“Earth Moved”

Were you born and raised right here in Cocoa Beach?
No, but I am a Florida native. I was born in West Palm Beach. My Dad was a preacher, so we were almost like a military family when it came to moving around. He liked working with smaller churches to get them to a certain point, build them up. Then he would look for a new place to do that once he did it. So we moved all the time. My Dad liked Florida though, so we were always back and forth to Florida. 

When did you get locked in here?
I moved to Cocoa Beach in … geez, my first stint here started in, like, ’79. I got married a moved away for awhile to Connecticut. Then I got divorced and moved back … I’ve been here ever since; I consider it like home.

Were there any repercussions from being a preacher’s son?
Yeah, you know, being a P.K. is a big deal.

What is a P.K.?
A preacher’s kid, P.K. is what all the preacher’s kids call it. It’s a unique aspect to be raised by the person that is—at least in your small society—a religious leader. I saw my dad when he was not the preacher. My dad was a flawed human as there ever was, not in a sense that he was doing anything hypocritical. He was a hard guy, hard on himself and hard on everyone else.
     The story that is unique to preacher’s kids is that you have to act a certain way. If you get in trouble, it’s a bad reflection on your father, his business or his avocation. You are always under that scrutiny. Most preachers’ kids rebel crazily, they’re usually the wildest kids in town. I wasn’t as much, but my brothers—I was the baby of five kids—they took care of that.  I grew my hair out, that’s about as rebellious as I got. I had a couple of brothers that were major drunks, so I didn’t get into that. By the time they were in college, they were messin’ up pretty hard. I saw that from a distance and thought, “Nah, I don’t want to get into that.” My art is my escape, my drug or whatever.

When did you pick up a paintbrush?
Well, I’ve done art my whole life … painting is something that came later in my life. Drawing was my strong suit. I was a black and white artist, mostly pencil, charcoal and graphic stuff, like printing. All the way up and through college, I had a sense that I didn’t really know color.

Really?
Yeah, I always excelled at drawing. The first contest I ever entered was in first grade. I remember it distinctly. They rejected me because they thought my parents had drawn it. My mom was like, “I don’t know when he did it!” It was cool because she defended me. She said, “He just does this. We don’t know how he does it.”

Are your parents artists?
No. My dad was OK; he wrote some poetry. But I do have creative people in my family. There were some aunts that were gifted, but not formally artists.

At what point did you realize it was something that you wanted to do professionally?
Well, I think even as a kid you could have randomly walked in my house and found me sitting in front of the TV, drawing on a sketch pad. I have boxes and boxes full of sketch pads… [Rick’s friend Hideki drops into the studio to measure some art and hang out.]

Do you think school is a place someone can learn art?
I think you can learn a great deal about art in school. I actually have a belief system that anybody can be … I don’t think “taught” art is the right word, but they can be introduced to the visual aspects and levels of their own mind and facility. I see education as a place where you can learn a lot of technique and get a lot practice, experience and influence from other people. And occasionally, you might get the right teacher that can teach you something about it. But for the most part, it’s an innate part of humanity for most people.   
       I think there are people, like myself, that have an intrinsic gift for it and are driven. I guess because a dominate part of my brain makes me want to mimic things visually. There are artists friends of mine that I’d qualify as gifted artists; and then there people who do art, who don’t have a natural gift, but do it because they love it. I imagine anyone can get better with their physical facility for drawing or painting. But to me, that’s not art as much as technique. I think that art can be done by people that are extremely naïve and that have no technical ability at all; they can do incredible things that are visionary expressions. I think great art is authentic expressions in a visual language.

Do you remember the first painting that you sold?
I remember the first painting I sold when I decided to do quit my job, move out of the house I was renting, abandon my job and commit to it. I moved from my big house on the canal to a tiny apartment. I committed to painting; I jumped off the ledge and didn’t sell anything for a long time. I had made a few, very large attempts at master pieces. That’s kind of what you do, especially when you’re in the mode of jumping off the cliff. You think seriously, so you make serious art. I starved and starved and starved. I couldn’t give them away. I literally went to a friend of mine’s house and said, “Monday, I’m going to start looking for a job and abandon this. I can’t do it.” I was starving, literally, for months. These were the friends that fed me, so I didn’t necessarily starve to death. But I was like, “That’s it. I can’t. It’s broken me.”
     Then a friend of mine, no it was my son’s friend, his father had come over to pick him up. We had been fishing. He had heard about my paintings; he was a doctor. He introduced himself and then said, “Hey, I heard you have some paintings.”
     I was like, “Yeah, yeah.” At that point, I was ready to put them out in the dumpster. But I brought him in and showed him anyway. Mentally, I had abandoned the whole idea.
     He asked, “How much are they?” They were 5’ x 6’canvases, huge pieces that took weeks of work. I was trying to get a grand back then, but I had lowered the price to $500 … then $300.
     So I said, “I’m trying to get $300, but at the moment I’d take $150.” That was the cost of materials.
     He looked at it and said, “I really love this one but I can’t give you $300”
     I said, “OK, well what can you give me?”
     He said, “$400 because that’s all that I have on me and its worth five times that.”
     He was this guy that came out of the blue and gave me hope. You can’t do anything without hope, especially creatively. He made everything better. Suddenly, I was validated. I just needed the universe to give me that, “Hey, you’re on the right road.” Then things even got worse of course, but I wasn’t stopping at that point. 

Is it essential that you live close to water?
Yeah, I think it is. I need to be near some environmentally inspiring place. I couldn’t live in a town that doesn’t have water or mountains in it, or at least some feature that has a wealth of inspiring aspects. But water is a huge symbol of my work.

How does the beach inspire you?
When I was a child, we had lived in some pretty boring Midwestern kind of places that didn’t have a lot going. So it was really inspiring to see the river. What fascinated me about seeing water in mass everywhere—I have sketches from way back when—was trying to figure out what the waves look like when they are moving. They move so quickly; it’s a fascinating organic shape that focuses almost everyone, so much that when they see water they are transfixed by it. It’s like what my friend calls a common primitive; it’s like looking into fire. It just locks us in, that curve motion that you can see. You’re not really sure what it’s doing, or how it’s doing it, but you can freeze it in a photograph.
      It’s not just the beach, it’s all water. I can watch a river, rapids or a waterfall pouring. However, waves are a great expression of water and energy. It’s one of the only places in the natural world that you can visually observe energy. Surfers like to talk about that a lot; I’ve read some esoteric articles about it in surfing magazines. Waves are the only place you can see energy, approach it and climb on top of it.

Where else do you draw inspiration? Are there other artists you look up to?
All artists influence me. If I see something I like somewhere, I’ll work it into my next few pieces. No one else will see it, but I do. I love Dali, Picasso … I like Surrealism and Cubism. [Rick’s phone rings and he answers it for a brief second.]

Some of your pieces remind me of Dali. How does he visually influence you?
If I go to an urban museum, he is someone I seek out. He is a masterful painter and masterful compositional artist, as far as using space and form. His fields of dream like circumstances … I love that. If you ever get to see Dali’s paintings in person you’ll notice that he paints with incredible technique. I can look at it from an inch away and not even understand how he got that intricacy. His canvases are like 25 feet across—just gigantic—and it makes you wonder, “Gosh, did he spend a lifetime doing that?”
     The answers is no, he probably did it for a show between this time and that time. I mean, how could he have even completed those? There are a few tricks in there I guess. Dali likes to do color fields and fades that seem to be plains in a dream-like desert. If you look at it pragmatically, those cover most of his canvases and then the super detailed stuff is small.  So I guess it does only take weeks, as opposed to the months that it appears to take.

Are there other artists or eras that you’re attracted to?
I was heavy into Cubism early in my life. That introduced me to abstract art and the idea of abandoning rules. Of course Cubism has a certain set of rules that gives it its look, but the whole phenomenon of abstraction is a very freeing concept artistically and creatively—I think beyond even visual arts. Think about it. When the camera was invented, the purpose of an artist changed. They were no longer a recorder of Realism and serving a purpose as a craft, striving to make things as perfect as they look. The only way to get a picture of a King or valley back then was to have someone paint it or sculpt it.
     Then the camera was invented and you could make a more perfect image in a thirtieth of a second. All the artist of that era—Modern Art and the twentieth century, we’re talking about 1910—it was the whole permeation of the idea that we don’t have to do this. What is our purpose? We don’t have to just recreate images. They explored it all the way to abandon the form and the subject matter. You’ve got [Paul Jackson] Pollock that just poured paint on something, his own expression that isn’t really any thing. It’s not a picture of anything. Although, I struggle with Pollock’s interpretation; he wasn’t even trying to be beautiful. But then again, I’ve seen a Pollock in the right lighting in a museum—and I’m sure he’d reject my opinion of it—and it was beautiful, when I walked up to it, the sunlight hit all the ridges of paint. I don’t think he meant it for that purpose, but I see beauty in his aesthetics.

How long does it take you to finish one of your pieces?
I paint pretty fast. I’ve done a lot of mural pieces, so I’ve gotten fast. I typically see paintings as something I need to get to the finish of. A lot of artists will work on multiple pieces here and there. I tell people, “For me, it’s a story and I have to see how it ends.” So my smaller pieces, I’ll finish in a day. It depends on details and inspiration. Some times I get this idea and it just cranks; I’m talking a 6-foot canvas in six hours. Then, you’ll get other ones that you struggle with.

Do you work best in the morning or at night?
I seem to work best at night. My schedule slips though because I stay up later and later painting and then the next day is ruined. I’ll wake-up later and paint later. But I did discover that every six months it turns over completely because I start staying up so late it that it is morning. Then it’s like, “Hey mornings are cool. I haven’t seen these in a while.” [Laughs] My life right now is so independent of all that though, a lot of times I don’t even know what day of the week it is—those are my best times. When I’m involved in creating and not tied to anything. 

Do you keep track of where your paintings go?
I do. All these paintings are original authentic expressions, so I feel tied to all of them. I don’t just create product. A lot of people ask me to paint things again and I never do that. I just paint; and I want to find new things every time I do it. Some times people will come up to me and say, “I have one of your paintings.” I won’t recognize them, but as soon as I found out what painting they have then I remember the whole thing. I recognize people by what pieces they have.

Do you do paintings by request?
Rarely. I am at the point right now that I have enough people collecting me, so I have the luxury of doing what I want to do, which is what most people want from me. People like my style. I don’t want to copy a picture. I get offers every week of my life for commission work and I say, “No.”  For other people and fans of my work—depending on the timing and the money—occasionally, if you give me a little idea, I’ll sketch something based on that. If I like it, I’ll show it to you. If you like it, I’ll paint it for you.

How is the business side of being an artist during these times?
In these times, it’s hard. It’s sucking. Everyone is suffering through economic karma, as well as other karma from this period of time. I can’t wait for it to be over. The last 6-8 months have really been recessionary. Art is one of those things people buy when they are in a good mood; it’s a subjective purchase. If people are worried about their groceries, they aren’t going to buy a piece of original art. That aside, last month was an anomaly; a lot of things came out of no where. 

What does the little group of fish in most of your paintings symbolize?
I spend so much time fishing in this lagoon system out back, the Banana River, some of the best fishing in Central Florida, Florida and the world, really. The bottom of the food chain is the mullet, or these little schools of mullet. As a fisherman, I cast net those mullet to use for bait, to catch other fish. If you been to the river, you’ve seen them everywhere. There like your constant companions when you’re wading around and fishing. A lot of my paintings have the fingerling mullet.
     You know, I’ve wondered [about the mullet] too. I put them in the air and all around because that’s how it feels to me. There’s also this link to this whole life cycle. They’re there, and they’re there in abundance. Without them, none of the rest of it would be there. They’re harmless little vegetarian fish that get harmed. I kill them and use them for bait, but I have a mad respect for them. I’ve held many, and looked into its eyes and then let it go. [Laughs]

An example of the fingerling mullet in “Tentative Step on to Water.”

In what exhibitions or museums has your work been featured in lately?
My last big deal thing was last year when I won “Best of Show” at the Brevard Art Museum. I also won the Purchase Award that year. That was a lot of prize money and attention because no one has won both of those awards in the same year. That was the first time that I ventured into museum contest. I don’t really do a lot of seeking out for competitive environments. I mean, first try—win everything. That was great.
     This year I didn’t even get in the show. In the last six months, a lot of things have tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hey, this is not what you do. You don’t do the subjective art world and get validated by ribbons, prizes, awards and money.” I create my artwork, and sell it to people who fall in love with it. That’s my mission. Competitive environments don’t bring out the best in me anyway.

What is your definition of successful art?
I think what you’d call success is creating something that is important visually to you. Like, if you take a walk, and you get this idea or see something that makes a thought. Then you take that and bring it into the realm of 3-dimensional reality. If you love it and authentically it expresses what you were hoping it could, then someone else, especially some one you don’t know, sees it and says, “Oh my gosh!” The authenticity of a connection to another human through something that is truly your reflection of a reality is the most successful thing that could ever happen. If they buy the painting, that’s validating too. But really, the money just allows you to buy more materials to go do another one.

Where are the furthest places that you’ve sent your paintings?
Let’s see, I have paintings in France. I have paintings in the Caribbean … in Hawaii … in Canada and South America … and now, prints in Japan … thanks to Hideki. He’s trying to market my stuff over there.

Where do you see your art heading?
I don’t know. There always is the tropical aspect and the reflections of this area … and things that I love that are true to me. [Hideki asks to take pictures of us while we’re interviewing.] It’s an interesting question because I look forward to finding out where it goes. I wonder what I’ll be painting at 80, because I know it’s changing. It always changes. To me, that’s one of the most important parts of it. I want to keep growing and changing, like everybody … whether they know it or not.
     To answer you specifically, I’ve been thinking about doing something on a much larger scale, something that is not meant to be bought individually. I want to find a venue, or big space, and do an installation without the approval of museums or whatever. What people don’t know is that I’ve done lots of kinds of art in my life—I’ve just settled on doing what I love.

Where do you think your art will be in 100 years?
That’s one little connection us artists have with original art, it gives us a little bit of immortality because it will be around. That’s a satisfying idea. There will be people that see my painting for the first time in 100 years. I mean, like six generations from now there may be people in their teenage years playing on beaches, and then they see my paintings and go, “Wow.” That’d be great.

Then, I guess, you’ve done your job.
Yeah, I’ve done my job. It’s why art is referred to as a life’s work—it’s not work. Who knows what will happen after I’m dead, but right now it’s kind of a delicious idea.

*Interview Date: 7/30/2008

To see the mermaid that haunts me and more of Rick’s work, go to www.rickpipersart.com.

One night a group of us went to Anthony’s Pizzeria in Thorton Park for dinner. “Beer, beer, beer … let it flow like water,” sang my friend Mandy. Our waiter had just asked us what we wanted to drink. We wanted Orange Blossom Pilsner.

Ever since this dinner, I find myself singing this little ditty all the time—in the car, in the shower, at breakfast, while getting ready to go out.  I’ve recently professed this tune to other waiters—without even realizing it—when asked for my drink order. This has made me think that something is either seriously wrong with me or something is seriously right with beer—let’s just assume it’s the latter.

Besides beer, I also love art and bookstores. So you can imagine my excitement when I was asked to guest host the third Thursday art-show at Urban Think!, my local bookstore. Within ten minutes of my hosting experience, in walked Tom, the creator of Orange Blossom Pilsner. Unbeknownst to me, he had arranged with Jim, the bookstores manager, to give samples of his beer away at my art show. This seemed like a bizarre coincidence considering that just days before we sang a song for beer—Tom’s beer—and now the beer inventor was standing before me. I could even personally congratulate him for his success in making an excellent honey beer—and I did.

Within two samples of Tom’s beer, I had the confidence to ask him to interview with me. He agreed. It took a couple of unreturned e-mails to get the response I wanted. He must have underestimated my perseverance. “I’d be tickled to do an interview,” he finally replied. It was the green light to inquire about anything I ever wanted to know about beer.

*Below are a few excerpts found in Jana Waring’s Who’s That? Discovering Orlando One Interview at a Time. To read and learn everything you wanted to know about beer, buy the book now!

What do you mean by the term microbrew?
I mean craft beers. Beers that are made with high integrity. Beers that accountants don’t oversee. Beers that the brewer looks at himself as an artist and is also trying to make the best possible product. A lot of our mainstream 7-Eleven beers are designed by accountants. They’re figuring out things like, if we use rice instead of malt then it’s cheaper.

The craft beer movement was started with the home brewer’s movement back in 1978. Jimmy Carter made home brewing legal. It was the year I turned 18 years old and also the year I started making home brew. I was old enough to but the ingredients to make beer but not old enough to buy beer. [Laughs]

What kind of home brew kit did you use?
A novice home brew kit is, you know, some malt extract, mixed with water in a pot, then cooled off and blended with more water, then yeast. I look at that like making a TV dinner. You can grab a TV dinner out of the freezer and throw it in the microwave for eight minutes and technically you made dinner. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s any good.

What makes beer taste so good?
I almost think that as humans we are conditioned to like beer.

With your experience, can you taste beer and tell exactly what is in it?
To a certain degree. i’ve git a pretty good palate. I actually have judged at the Great American Beer Festival in Colorado. The GABF is one of the biggest beer competitions in the nation, if not the planet. To judge an event like that is one heck of an honor.

* Interview Date 2/11/08

For more info Tom’s Beer check out these web sites:
www.orangeblossompilsner.com
www.myspace.com/orangeblossompilsner

Jana:So Carlos wanted me to interview you.
Brook: I know. Have you ever seen the photos that I’ve done of him?

No.
Really? Well that can be rectified real quickly. Hold on. [Brook runs and grabs her lap top and begins to go to her site.]

Wait. Is he on your site?
Uh-huh.

Um, I didn’t even recognize him. But now that I think about it I bet I know which photo you’re talking about.
[Brook pulls up his photo.] See? That’s him and his dog.

Yeah and nope, I didn’t even recognize him. That’s funny. Well anyway, he’d thought you’d be a good person to interview. Why do you think he’d think that?
I don’t know. [Laughs] I guess because I take photos.

I read you went to an art school in Pittsburg. Is that where are you from? Yeah, I’m from Pennsylvania.

How did you get to Orlando?
I moved here with my then boyfriend/now husband. We met in art school. We were either going to move to Orlando or San Francisco and he got a better job in Orlando. Communication Arts is who he interviewed with in San Francisco but he was offered more money here.

That’s interesting. Orlando, generally, is not the highest-paying city.
I know. They offered him a lot to a lot more here and they were going to pay for our moving expenses. So technically, that’s how we got here. 

Does the Cheesecake Factory deliver to your door?
No! And it sucks. No place in the village delivers. I would pay extra too because I’m very lazy. You saw my fridge; it’s like condiments and water. We don’t cook at all.

Yeah, I hear ya. I think I’d have cheesecake delivered to my door every night if I could.
Oh no, my weakness is Mexican food—like Chipotle and Tijuana Flats, although, we have to alternate because my husband doesn’t like Mexican food.

I hear New Kids on the Block are in town recording. Any chance you’ll shoot them?
[Laughs] If I am I can’t say. No … no … I’m not. But you know they have their reunion coming up.

Yes, that’s why they’re in town I thought.
Well, I think Jordan lives here. Doesn’t he?

Oh, I don’t know. I’m not in on the in-and-the-in. How do you have such privileged information?
Oh I don’t know. I guess just talking to people. [Laughs]

Describe a typical day for you.
A typical shooting day or non-shooting day?

How about both?
Well, a typical day is that some times I have interns or assistants come in to do office work and I’ll process photos. I’ll normally get up early in the morning—I’m actually a morning person—and I’ll run the business side. On photo shoot days, there is no such thing as a typical day. They can start at 2 o’clock in the morning or 10 o’clock at night. There’s nothing usually set when you’re shooting rock stars; they have really crazy schedules. Those are long days … but fun.  

What inspires you to shoot?
Probably music.

What other creative aspects do you participate in?
I don’t paint or draw. I’ve tried it and that’s how I ended up behind a camera. I loved art class but I’d get an A for effort, and then a D so that I’d pass. I was never good at it. I do photography in my spare time, like my own personal stuff separate from work. As far as creativity though it’s nothing but listening to a plethora of music and watching movies, like psychotic movie marathons on the weekends if I’m not working.

Most everything you shoot is digital. Did you ever use film?
Yeah.

Do you miss it?
No. I learned on film and I had to process and do the paper stuff … it’s cool but for me, I hated handing my stuff over to the lab. So when digital started to creep in I was relieved I didn’t have to do that anymore. Because really, you trust someone with all that time and effort you put into the film. Then hopefully they don’t melt it and you have saved a few rolls, just in case. I love digital just for that—everything is triple backed-up on shoot days. I also like digital’s immediacy, not that it is a timesaver because sometimes you have to do re-touching, but I love it.

Do you do many alterations to your photos after they’re taken?
Surprisingly, no. I’d say in about 2004 I switched to a medium format and with that came some really rad software. I don’t have to do Photoshop for anything because it’s really how I light it, other than composite stuff like I did with Akon’s photo.

Let’s say you’re in the midst of a photo shoot. What do you say to make people comfortable?
Anything I need to say. If I can’t get someone comfortable, the photos are going to suck. I’ve pulled out fart jokes; I’ve whispered so nobody can hear what I’m saying. It takes practice. I’ll do whatever it takes to get someone to loosen up.

Would you say that making someone comfortable is the most important thing about photography?
It’s probably not the most important thing but it’s crucial.

Then what do you think is the most important thing?
Delivering the photos …

So there is a lot of pressure involved regarding expectations?
Yeah, definitely.

How do you cope with that?
I do yoga.

That’s awesome. How do you prepare for your photo shoots? Do you research your clients?
If they’re a musician, I’ll listen to their music and try to have a good understanding of them. If they have a blog or are famous, I‘ll read their articles. So I’ll do that research before hand. 
    Prior to shoot day, the locations are picked, the clothes are picked, it’s decided if we need extras or props so that way there are no variables. Well, at least as little variable as possible. Some thing can always come up but I try to make sure that everything is neurotically taken care of.

Are you the creative director for all your shoots?

One of you’re latest projects included Sean Kingston and MTV. How was that?
That was crazy. Have you ever seen that show My Super Sweet 16? Well, they’re doing his mega-18-year-old birthday bash for that show. I actually have a crazy fear of being photographed, like hard-core uncomfortable. So I got the call from MTV after we went down to Miami and they asked if they could film the shoot the next day. I was like, “Yeah.”
    Then I was thinking, “Don’t panic.” I have to get used to this, like 100% have to get over it. So it was fine. They filmed mostly over-the-shoulder stuff and it was the perfect test. I did it and now I’m over it.

Do you think this may have opened the door to more opportunities?
Yeah, certainly with the software I use. I shoot tethered to my lap top so clients, art directors and magazine editors can see the photos come in on real time and we can perfect the small details. Like on the Sean Kingston shoot, his mom was there, MTV was there and we were able to provide the shots for them to see right away. When Sean saw them he was like, “Damn, those are hot.” Everyone was just so excited on the shoot.

What did you and Akon talk about on his shoot?
[Laughs] Stupid stuff. The iPhone had just come out and I was like, “Hey, hold my phone. Don’t use yours; it’s ugly.” From there we started talking about iPhones and Apple … Akon is a very reserved guy; he’s very polite and totally nice. 

You’ve mentioned most of your business comes from word of mouth. What do you think keep the people coming back for more?
I think I do a good job and they like the photos.

How do you feel about being a woman in the industry?
I think when I was assisting I was lucky because I saw other girls get treated like crap or not paid very well. Even now, my name is not spelled with an “E” so sometimes I think people expect a guy when they meet me for the first time. I’ll see that flicker for a second but then it’s gone. Overall, the industry is very male dominate. So it’s nice to see girls … you know … sugar and spice—whatever.

Tell us 5 things you like to do outside of photography.
Walk my dog, take ph … oh wait, I can’t take photos. Can I? [Laughs] Spend the entire day at the movies, go to the beach, Melting Pot desserts and … watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. 

Lately, it seems you’re the one being sought after for interviews and such. How does it feel to be on the otherside of the spotlight?
Kind of amusing, strange, surreal … but I don’t mind sharing stuff about work and life.  I just won’t share my chocolate.

Interview date: 2/4/08

* To keep up with Brook go to her blog at http://brookpifer.blogspot.com.

I first saw Swam perform on stage with SoLilliquists of Sound before I ever officially met him in person. I was blown away by his performance for three reasons. 1. I didn’t know any sort of Hip Hop scene existed in Orlando and that me and my friends were capable of stumbling upon it. 2. I had never seen a show with so much energy. Not the jumping around, throwing equipment, we’re crazy kind of energy; but a thoughtful, listen to our message, we care about the world moxie. And finally 3. I wondered how Swam could pack so many eloquent words into one rhyming session without (a) stopping to take a breath and (b) mumbling. I could hear every pronunciation of each carefully chosen word, which seems nearly impossible to me considering I can’t help but run all my words together when in normal conversation, nevertheless when I’m excited and attempting to proclaim a message.
After that concert, every time I went downtown to places like Bar-B-Que Bar, The Social and Eye Spy, I saw Swam. He’d carry a backpack, dreads, dirty, long ones that hung down his back, and a smile, while self-promoting and selling CDs. I bought one, but not just because I enjoyed his music, I gravitated towards his passion.
Just recently, I ran into Swam at The City Factory Arts building on a third-Thursday. Years later (that’s many, many nights downtown, living in my twenties), we are friends; at least “Hey, how are you doing? How’s the tour? What’s your next project?” friends. Unlike me, a potential buyer of art, he was creating art on the couch right underneath his own showings on the wall. It had never occured to me that he could be as talented on canvas as he was on stage but he is. In fact, he told me later he received a college scholarship to Columbia where he studied art for four years. I wanted more Swam. So, I hit hit him up for an interview.
On my way to the interview at his shop, the Culture Mart, I looked up in time to see him speaking to a friend outside. The eavesdropper in me had hoped he wouldn’t stop talking on my account and he didn’t. However, I wasn’t prepared for the next 45 minute lesson, session, on life. As Swam spoke to his friend, T-Rex, about Hip Hop, life, skateboarding, violence in America, hope and other current events, I wanted to bust out my recorder. Because truth be told, that alone would have made for an interesting read. Swam doesn’t need someone to ask him questions; he already has a lot to say. Then just as I was becoming hypnotized by the rythmic flow of Swam and T-Rex’s rap of life, Swam turned to me and said, “You ready?” And I was ready—ready to take on the world.

Jana: How does one get a name like Swamburger?
Swamburger: My cousins couldn’t pronounce my real name Asaan. So it started a as Swan and then it changed to San and then eventually Swam. Swam was the one that stuck. It’s been my nickname since I was 4-years-old.  Later, I made it stand for an acronym which was Survival With A Mind.
Then once I got to my college years and right around the time I became a vegetarian, one of my best friends, Miguel Arizola gave me the name Swamburger. The way I remember the story—and now I don’t know if it’s complete—but I was coming home from school and when I walked in [the house] there he was eatin’ this burger. The way he was eating this burger, juice was all coming down his chin. I was like, “Man, what are you eatin?”
He was always teasin’ me for becoming a vegetarian. So he looked up at me and said, “A Swamburger,” and we just started laughing. [Laughs] Them basically it elevated to a point where we thought: how great would it be to make it in the industry with a name like Swamburger?

Nice! I had hoped it had something to do with a delicious cheeseburger.
[Laughs] Yeah. So now what I’m trying to do with the name is employ it to Crooked Bayou’s veggie Philly, and then with that win best burger next year. That’s my plan.

What’s your plan? To make the veggie Philly the new cheeseburger?
Yeah! That’d be hot!

Explain veganism to me.
It’s basically no meat and no dairy.

Wouldn’t that make it hard to eat out?
Ah, hell no! It’s easier to eat at places that cater to it, but it’s not hard to eat out at all. Think of all your side dishes and that pretty much covers it. No butter, but here are vegan substitutes. I don’t know if you know this but margarines are often made vegan.

I didn’t know that. How did you become vegan?
I started out as a vegetarian. This girl named Ms. Anna, who was an emcee in college as well, was raised vegan and having troubles. She was having troubles with schooling, she was smoking a hell-of-a-lot of weed, she just was having troubles but just as much troubles as anyone else would have. I took it upon myself to still care into it. That’s just me—my name means giver.
I got inquisitive as to what was troubling her. Basically—for a year and a half—we talked through all her problems. She dumped her man, she picked up her grades and she eventually started stickin’ up for herself. You know? She got stronger and stronger as a being and as a person. She thought I had done so much for her and wanted to return the favor. So she asked me to stop eating meat, and I did.

Wait. I don’t understand. How is giving up meat a favor for her?
It was a favor for her because she wanted me to understand the things I had done for her, like broadening her life and giving her a different perspective to look at. I listened. Granting her the favor is me empowering the word, especially in our day and age when people don’t give you the benefit of the doubt unless you’re a super star.
At that time I was like, “Yo, wow, thank you!” I met up with her years afterwards and told her I was still a vegetarian and she was like, “Oh my God!” [Laughs] I let people know, especially when I’m talking to them or doing my music, that the power of the word is just as much as you want to give it. Now, I totally understand what she wanted me to get and how she feels about how someone can do something for you. You feel me?

I feel you. [Laughs] I just don’t know that I’d be able to give up meat.
It’s only as attached to yo as you allow it to be. She knew exactly where I was coming from. She knew I wouldn’t be like, “Yo, why are you trying to make me stop eating meat?” I looked at it like, “damn, she might have some knowledge that I don’t have.” Now, I have that knowledge. I’m just glad I went along with it and trusted her with my life, my well being and my essence.

The Culture Mart, your store, is that where one can find culture?
Yes! The Culture Mart is definitely where you come to buy culture, and also to get more involved within the culture or cultures that are happening. You know? It’s basically going to be as cultural as the culture in Orlando will allow it to be. So come through all the time.

But how are we supposed to know how to get here? I didn’t see any signs out front.
[Laughs] I had it out before but it started raining. My other sign was stolen. But that’s exactly what culture is. The culture is no going to be advertised, you just find out about it. You feel me? If you’re looking for spots you’re gonna find it.

How long have you been running the shop?
Since 2001.

What sells the most?
My shirts but that’s usually because I go downtown [and into the bars] to sell them myself.

That’s true! I see you out all the time. You are the hardest working, self-promoting entrepreneur I know.
[Laughs] In Orlando, you have to be. Where I’m from originally, in Chicago, you don’t have to so much.

I noticed that when you use pen and canvas when you start a visual work of art. Where did you learn to do that?
I always had teachers that were like, “If you mess it up, dress it up.” I was using pencil and then painting over it in the beginning, and I found myself not using the eraser a lot. Eventually, I wasn’t using it at all. The pen has a better flow to it on any kind of canvas.

There’s something to starting with ink on canvas…
Yes, it definitely helps you commit. The thought changes, it’s like, I’m a great artist, not this person who is trying to create great art. It definitely helped change my mind frame.

You seem to be influenced by your Chicago roots. Would you agree?
Definitely. Chicago, to me, is the “City of Angels,” rather than what they call Los Angeles. While I was living there, I always felt like I was being surrounded by spirits, great spirits, but also history. I was exposed to bad and good, beneficial, non-beneficial, struggle, hustle, victory, success. I was exposed to famous people all the way to homeless people. I got to experience everything just from that one city. If it were a book, it’s probably be the greatest book I’ve ever read to prepare you for what you’re gone experience in life. So it definitely has presence in my art work, and so does Hip Hop.

What is Hip Hop to you?
Hip Hop, to me, is something that has been handed down from past generations of African History. It’s different than what you hear on the radio. That’s why I’m always out there working as hard as I am. I actually have a real passion for communicating and making a connection bigger than the one we would have meeting each other in public. Like, “Oh hey, yeah. How you doin’?”
It’s trying to give you something that I have been given. That’s what my music is. People will get it over time. Hip Hop is evolving so much. I get involved with the shape it takes on and how it moves and acts in society. When I see something that doesn’t necessarily represent Hip Hop, or it doesn’t give me the feeling Hip Hop gave me before, it irks me. You know? It makes it less worthwhile. I feel like I really have to put out what Hip Hop is, to me, and what it will always be.

And what is that?
It’s straight up love, yo. It’s unity. It’s a community that is going to look out for each other. It’s a progressive community that knows the difference between non-beneficial and beneficial.

At this point, do you feel Hip Hop is at a breaking point?
Yeah, but I also feel that it’s due to the fact that life is at a breaking point. I mean, here we are in the middle of war and nobody gives a shit. People are worried about how much beer cost and if they can get in free to a club. Our value is devalued by our own selves. In turn, it makes music act the same way. Hip Hop was giving something for these people to give a shit about. Now, it’s been watered down so much, to a point that, you don’t get that from the majority of Hip Hop. And if the majority is not working together, what you’re going to get is fragmented politics, fragmented lifestyles and fragmented reasoning.

What do you want people to feel when they come to see one of your shows?
Love, dawg. Straight love. You know? Pure love. If they’re hopeless I want them to have a sense of hope, and even beyond that. I believe that Hip Hop is a reaffirmation and/or affirmation of all those great things that can be accomplished. It’s the new messiah. It is God—everything you hold high. It’s trying to act out those greats in life.

Do you write music to inspire those around you?
I feel like if I do it for myself, others will be inspired by it. If I can talk to myself in a manner where I’m truthful and honest, it will translate to any and everybody else. You feelin’ me? Some people might look at that as elements of narcissism. Some people look at it as self-righteous, but I don’t know anybody that takes care of themselves well and doesn’t have the need to care for other people.

How are you able to translate your feelings into words and lyrics?
I just have them. It’s the same way I hear a sound. Words to me are vibrations. The feeling to me, at first, is translated as a vibration. You know what I’m sayin’? Let’s say I have a feeling, but the feeling is caused by a startling sound. Then my word for that might be STARK. Not just because of it’s meaning, but because going into it [he makes heavy pronunciations of each sound] it’s ‘Sss’ almost silent, but then it has a harsh ending, ‘KAH!” So it’s STARK! By expressing the R more than the A, it has a definition to it. People probably don’t necessarily think about that, so it might sound weird on tape. [Laughs] But that’s exactly what goes into it.
So it’s more than a word and its meaning, it’s a feeling and …
Yeah, it’s an intention. There’s intention behind it. Like, when I shake someone’s hand, I’m not just shaking their hand because they’re cool to me. It’s because I’m also trying to preserve what ever it is that is flowing from me.

Recently your group, SoLillquists of Sound, opened up for The Roots at the House of Blues. Was that your biggest show?
Maybe feeling wise, but nah, I think one of our greatest shows, or feats we had overcome, was playing at Missoula, Montana. We went there for the first time and it was a pretty big crowd. Then we went there for the second time and it was damn near sold out. Going to a different spot where no one knows you and then going a second time and it’s a sold out crowd—that’s amazing. I felt like something was accomplished on both parties. And they were screaming so loud we couldn’t hear the beats coming out of the speakers. It caused us to tear up, you know, cry. It’s like wow, here you are making these songs out of the comfort of your own home and you see it translate from one thing to the next — everyone in the crowd is singing your lyrics.

Where does your spirituality lie?
In life itself. Not being satisfied when I look at my fingers and say, “Ok, they’re just fingers.”
Practicing religion means practicing a program, and a way to pay respect to the things that you are learning. People are able to go to church over and over again, but they’re just turning their wheels if they’re not moving anywhere with this information. To me, you don’t need a church. It’s what you choose to be your temple. Let’s say you truly are looking at yourself as a temple and you’re building by what comes into you. What would you put in your temple? Good things or bad things? Both? What kind of balance are you trying to create?

What would you put in your temple?
Straight up good things. [Laughs] Lessons learned, you know? I think I’d be a spittin’ image of the world or maybe another planet. Then people could live on my planet.

… The Planet of Swamburger?
Yeah! Exactly. [Laughs]

www.myspace.com/culturemart
www.myspace.com/solilla
www.solilla.com
www.nonsenserecords.com
www.epitaph.com
www.anti.com