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    Angels and Infidels: Studio Practices

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      Wednesday, July 04, 2007

      Independence Day

      I didn't take this photo but it is very much like many photos I've taken during summer excursions to Scotland and England. I borrowed this image from a fellow hillwalker whose link I've lost... but that's another post.

      We really aren't much for tradition in our family so the July 4 holiday has varied from year to year, some more memorable than others. Harry read the Declaration of Independence wearing wool in the middle of the hot afternoon for many summers. I took the time to attend once and I worried someone there would suffer heat stroke - including me! I once spent every other summer for about ten years touring Scotland with art students. It was the best teaching experience of my career and it had a profound effect on my art and life.

      Harry and I were married in near Oban on the Isle of Lismore, a site I discovered after one of my teaching stints. That summer Harry left Scotland the day after my students arrived. We spent a week or so in Arbroath working on the grounds at Hospitalfiend House and spent more than a night or two at the Foundry Bar.

      July 4 happened to be the open mike night which was really more like karoke with a live old timey band instead of a machine. One of my students had his own band back home and after several sing-a-ongs and even more pints he declared his patriotism by standing up and walking to the stage and asking the band of they could play the Star Spangled Banner. He proceeded to sing with inspiration until he realized he couldn't remember the words(!) We were horrified since not a one of us knew the lyrics, but then amazed, stunned, actually - that an entire pub of Scots with pints in their fists knew our National Anthem word for word and broke in to save our well intentioned American boy. The Scots were so proud of us at the time... Clinton was in office and they adored him - even with Monicagate on his shirt tails... Bill was their hero. The Scots that filled the Foundry Bar that night were mine. I should have bought a round for the entire pub but the dollar doesn't go very far in Britain - even then.

      Labels: Britain, democracy, journey

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