Return of Art All Night 2024

Somethings have taken longer to return from the pandemic than others. After a four-year gap, Art All Night finally returned this June. Sure, they tried to hold a virtual exhibit one year, but it wasn't the same. Then they hired a new director in June 2022, making that year impossible to pull off. Last year the new director still wasn't ready, or maybe there were things happening behind the scenes I was not privy to knowing about. It truly doesn't matter.

Part of the issue was probably related to the 2018 event when gunfire erupted. It was the first time any violence had happened at the event, but it still shook everyone to the core. The event returned in 2019 with increased security, and being shut down in the wee hours for safety. I'm surprised I didn't blog about it, but looking at what I did write about, I was so focused on my five-week trip to Israel I didn't take the time to write about it. We did not display art that year, or in 2018.

Back to 2024's Art All Night. It was held in the Patriot's Theater at the Trenton War Memorial, a new venue. I don't know why it wasn't held there this year. A quick Google search shows the Roebling Wire Works building is permanently closed. Another quick Google search shows it is still the home of the Trenton Circus Squad. <<Insert shrug here>>

On the positive, the new venue has lots of convenient parking. It is located near downtown. Art All Night teamed up with the local restaurants (and Classics Books) to spread the foot traffic beyond the art show. Unfortunately there was a massive thunderstorm the night of the event which dampened my desire to stretch beyond the theater.

Prior to the 2018 shooting, the exhibit was run the same way. Artwork was dropped off the day before at the venue. Tags were created on the spot. Stickers were put on the back of our drivers' licenses to be used at pick up to prove it was our work. (Often those stickers stayed on our licenses until the following year, sort of as a badge of honor.) Volunteers ran the pieces to the back and chaotically hung the pieces on walls created specifically for the event, walls that were falling apart after a decade of use and (likely) poor storage. The next day we would tear through the rows hunting for our pieces. Sometimes they would be near each other, but most of the time they were not even though we dropped them off at the same time. 

I past years the pop up gallery was open from 3 pm Saturday to 3 pm Sunday. We often returned a couple of times, always seeing different friends, and even noticing different pieces. For me what made it special was seeing a preschooler's masterpiece hung alongside a professional artist's work with the same level of respect and appreciation. Often the preschooler's work was listed as NSF (not for sale) or with a price tag topping seven figures. The professional artist priced theirs at a more affordable rate, though still often more than we wanted to pay.

There were other changes this year. It was only open from 3 pm to midnight, and again from 6 am to 3 pm. With a virtual show online from midnight to six (which I slept through). All of the art can still be seen on their online gallery. As in past years, they had bands performing, but in the smaller space the music was overpowering. This year they added some workshops and panel discussions in a different part of the building. The artwork was hung in the ballroom on 11 six-sided panels newly created for this year's event. Artists had to register their artwork about a week in advance and were given instructions for dropping it off. The extra hoop discouraged me from participating. I tried to encourage Ashley to show off a piece, but she has been busy and did not get around to it. She also did not have time to see the artwork.

Fearing the timing would not work out if I waited for Don, I went by myself not long after it opened. As I type this, I realize this is the first time I have gone alone, part of which is probably because I felt safer going to the new site. 

I immediately bumped into Jaclyn of Trenton Sk8s fame who was walking around with her daughter. Purely by luck I was there between bands so I could enjoy the artwork. Don and I returned that night when the loudest band of the event was wrapping up (according to Chebra who was in charge of tech for the event). Don didn't even last a step before having to vacate the building. We set our alarms and returned at 7 am before the next bands started to play.

This year they had over 300 pieces of art, with lots of room for more art. I don't know how many they had in past years, but I would guess at least 1,000. I have not seen other stats. The kindest words I can use are I'm glad they are back, and this was a rebuilding year. I want them to succeed. I want them to thrive. 

May next year be even bigger and better. 

May we once again participate as artists.

Princeton Pride 2024

Five years ago Princeton held their first Pride Parade. I'm not sure if they have held one since 2019. A quick Google search brings up the letter the Rustin Center sent to the community thanking them for the 2019 parade, but no mention of a parade since then.

Held on the last Saturday of Pride Month, my thoughts on this year's parade echo the ones I had in 2019, it felt very Princeton. It was a sedate, suburban event with more people in the parade than watching it. I positioned myself under a shade tree near the end of the route at Princeton's YMCA and took pictures. It started thirty minutes earlier in a field near the police station. You know there are not many participants when those in the parade were plying me with swag so they didn't have to carry it home.

Many local non-profits, for profits (Stark & Stark and at least one other company), and numerous churches participated. It was heavy on the walking and light on the floats. Taking place after the end of the school year, no schools participated. I didn't notice any big names, or even any politicians (in 2019 Gov. Murphy participated with his wife, Tammy).

It was okay. Not worth traveling a great distance for, but also not offensive in any way. I enjoyed seeing the person walking with her snake, and the kid walking with his bearded dragon more than anything else.

After the last group passed me I glanced to my left and saw our girls melting in the grass under a shade tree. They marched in the parade. Again, hardly anyone watched it. The organizers are pleased so many people supported them. The marchers wished they had a few more people cheering them on. I bought a scoop of chocolate orange ice cream from the bent spoon cart and called it a day. 

Getting Dirty

Last year I had so much fun digging at the Red Bank Battlefield that I sought out the experience again this year. I emailed Jen, the coordinator, in April so I could put the dates on my calendar, after all the past two years the dates had been in May and June and those are busy times of the year. She wrote back to say they did not have the dates firmed up yet, but would let me know when the did. True to her word, she told me the dates. 

The first conflicted with graduation.

The second was the weekend of the unveiling of the Voices of Ewing project at The Benjamin Temple House.

The third conflicted with Ashley's graduation party.

Ugh. 

The final date was June 23rd -- a completely open day on my calendar, until a graduation party was rescheduled for that day. 

Old me would have taken two activities in one day in stride. New me (which I suppose is old me) needs more time to shift gears, especially when the temperature is nearing 100 degrees and the first activity is in the sun. Still, I couldn't turn it down.

Truth be told, I did drive down the second weekend as the weather was stunning. Unlike last year when I was encouraged to dig and get dirty, this year they seemed to have more professionals and us members of the public were relegated to sifting. My timing, though, was when there was not much sifting happening. The professionals were measuring and making notes before opening up another strata. 

The tedious part of the day.

During lunch break the archaeologists were taking turns asking people to take new profile pictures of them in one of the pits -- the one that went down about six feet and showed different strata of dirt. If I had worked on that pit, I would have asked to have my picture taken there, too, but it didn't feel right.

After lunch they started digging in earnest. Bucketfulls of dirt were being dumped in the proper sifter -- they were keeping dirt from the same strata in the same pile. While I understood the logic, as the piles got too tall someone would shovel it into a new pile. I think the purpose was for making sure the correct labels got put on the finds, and not because there was anything magical about the leftover dirt.

When I returned on June 23rd the forecast was calling for 100 degrees. I suspected they might cancel the event, but then I received an email reminding everyone to bring plenty of water.

I made the easy drive down to National Park, NJ home of the Red Bank Battlefield. A frustrating name because when many people hear Red Bank they assume I mean on the Jersey Shore where the PNC Arts Center is located. I spent more time explaining that was not the right place to people who probably didn't care than showing them the exciting finds I made that day.

I got a name tag indicating I was a member of the public and headed to the pits. Once again they were in the measuring stage and not the digging stage. Most people were sitting around enjoying the shade while a few people feverishly took notes.

I wandered over to the other side where the metal detector people were back. They were missing on my previous visit. I had been assured they would return for the next couple of weekends. I recognized Tim from last year so I asked if I could join him. Not only did his face light up when he saw me, he grabbed a spare metal detector from his car so I could detect, too. He showed m the ropes and told me stories about great finds he has made -- including the nineteenth century $5 gold coin he found last summer in a sod field. He sold it for $400.

Tim uses his equipment to locate the metal and digs a small hole. I like to get down on my hands and knees and get my hands in the dirt. I took the different clumps of dirt and smooshed them. My digging revealed pieces of pottery, clay, and charcoal. Small bits, but added with other pieces help to tell the story of the site. Tim admits he would have skipped those pieces over because he is focused on the metal. Dana, the site manager, was encouraging of my finds.

Tim is a patient teacher. He showed me what to do. As I wasn't mastering the skill. As he found something, he paused an let me swipe over it with his old detector so I could get a sense of the difference between nothing and a find. I was getting a lot of false positives generated by the grass touching the detector. I nicknamed them "grass tickles." His new machine recorded one number. His old one a different number. The number reflects the type of metal found. Often numbers in the teens found odd pieces of tin foil. Higher numbers the good stuff -- musket balls, cannon balls, gold coins, etc.

Within a short time we found a musket ball alongside a nail. I've seen pictures of musket balls, and have heard of musket balls. I may have even touched one as part of an exhibit. None of this compared with the thrill of finding one! It looks like a clump of dirt, but is has a heft to it. Holding it. Bouncing it in my hand. I could imagine what it would feel like to have that hurled at you at (what must felt like in the 18th century) warp speed. That bugger would have hurt! As this one was flat one one side, it hit either a tree or a human before being forgotten about for 250 years.

Tim, a 76-year old PSE&G retiree and veteran from the shore, and found much
decaying tin from long-ago picnics and pull tabs from old soda cans that take longer to decompose. We were grateful for the breezes coming off the Delaware River and the shade provided by the trees that were not there during the battle. Unfortunately with the trees came an extensive root system we did not enjoy digging around as much. The roots have protected the artifacts for many years.

When Wade offered to buy us lunch at the hot dog stand that an entrepreneur had set up, we took him up on the offer. We also accepted cold iced teas from the chest he brought. As I originally only planned to stay until noon, I was woefully underprepared with my large thermos and a protein bar. Thank you Wade!

Rejuvenated, we returned to the lanes. Within moments we found this beauty. My
thinking is it is a pin made for bicentennial in 1976, but everyone else thinks it is much older -- perhaps made for the 1906 dedication of the memorial, or when Charles Lindberg flew over in 1927 on his way to Paris. Their estimates make it much older, so I should accept them. My hesitation in accepting that date is the placement of the stars on the flag. In the days of only 48 states, the stars appeared in a grid, not as they do today. Using Wikipedia as a source, the stars were staggered from 1898-1912 (when there were 45 and 46 states) before shifting to the 48-star grid from 1912-1959. That would lend credence to the 1906 dedication of the battlefield.

Buoyed we kept at it. After finishing a lane, we went to another lane. The feeling is a different machine might detect something else. It was getting hotter. Tim was smart to start at 7:30 am before the official start of the day. I didn't arrive until 9:30, but by the time I made it to his side it was closer to 10. We wanted to stop because of the heat, but we also wanted to end on one more treasure. We kept at it. Finally just outside the grid we found this. Is it a cock jack screw from a flint rock or a more modern drawer pull? The modern solution makes more sense because the hole did not go all the way through, but given the location on the site of a battle that took place in 1777, the former is also a contender.

Starting with the 50-minute drive, I felt happier than I have in a long time. Hours flew by. I felt both wanted and competent. I got dirtier than I have gotten in a long time (as seen in the pictures of my hands). I smiled more. I wish I could feel this way every day.

One last note, last year we metal detected in this exact same location, which only shows you never know what will turn up on a different day, with different equipment.

Should I add a metal detector to my birthday wish list?

A Party Four Years in the Making

In 2020 we had planned to celebrate Ashley's graduation from high school with a big party. As we all know, the world had other plans. As Ashley was nearing graduation this time, I started to invite everyone who was ever important to Ashley as she was growing up. The friends and family, teachers and mentors we would have invited after high school graduation. The goal was a simple backyard party. As invitations went out via word of mouth, Facebook, and text there were many enthusiastic ayes and dismayed nays, and an assortment of no replies. Holding the party on Father's Day Weekend meant many had other plans.

Our best decision was to hire Pam to be our caterer. After watching her flip burgers at a church function I jokingly asked if she would be free to flip burgers at Ashley's party. She replied, "You do know that I have a side catering business?" Umm... no. The idea was not as farfetched as I thought it was. Don was a little apprehensive, but by the end of the day (which included having a new refrigerator delivered) he declared that the best decision ever!

We lucked out with sunshine and temperatures in the mid-70s. A few days later we began a typical summer heatwave where doors stay closed and we forget about the outdoors. On that day, our 40 or so loved ones spread out in the kitchen (always the kitchen), family room, and outside. I tortured Ashley with a few group pictures outside by the Muhlenberg banner, but tried to let her hang out with her high school and college friends who blended into one big group.

The farthest away award went to Aunt Doris, who stopped her from Florida on the way to a family graduation party in New York. Ed and Carol were honorary recipients.

The farthest day traveler award is split between Greg and Dave W., one came from Delaware and the other from Connecticut. Not sure which ride was longer. Both were a surprise to the guest of honor. 

The closest award goes to neighbors Lisa and Carlos who walked over.

With the party over, part of me feels the role of us as parents to a student has finished. Laura brought us a bottle of sparkling wine to celebrate -- recognizing the party was also a celebration of us reaching a new parenting stage. I don't picture Don sharing the bottle with me, but may I open it with the friends I made when Ashley was a wee one. We did it! We successfully got our children to adulthood!

As for the next stage, we stand by as Ashley leads us down that path. What is our role as she navigates looking for a full-time job and even moves out of our home.

 

Disappointed I didn't catch pictures of everyone. Wish I could have visited with everyone, too.