It’s a bright early Spring Saturday morning in Middletown. The warmish-cool breeze blows through the open doors of the MAC. Inside, the bright white-washed walls hold ever-changing themed art. The floor’s filled with chairs and people of all ages and backgrounds. It’s what art in any community does; it brings people together. David and I quietly find a seat in the back of the room and settle in. There’s a spirit of anticipation and expectation, but not like you would find at an art show. No, this is different. This is a calling to learn something both new and ancient, holy and practical. Quiet expectation fills the room.
Tag: Middletown Art Center
Friday, February 25, the MAC will be hosting the Regenerative Farmers’ Guild. This event features leaders in the agriculture and cannabis community and will serve as a demonstration of a strategy to build a regenerative farming guild for owner-operators who are faced with economic hurdles and possible extinction. The supply chains are a broken system for the smaller noncorporate business community. The event brings leaders from all over the cannabis industry to build successful business networks for producers to be successful in a very challenging year ahead. It will discuss hurdles in each part of the supply chain as well as best practices towards regenerative farming.
In honor of Juneteenth, Freedom Day, the Middletown Art Center joined with several Lake County musicians, performers, and chefs this past weekend to celebrate the newly established national holiday. The evening’s events began in the back studio of the MAC as an intimate group of guests listened to an on-stage conversation between Clovice Lewis, musician, composer, and educator who shared his story of music, race, and social justice with host Sabrina Klein. Lewis graciously expressed his love for playing the cello and the genre he coined “Jazzical,” jazz and classical style combinations, both of which were major influences in his past.
Karen Turcotte pulls her dark-rimmed glasses away from her face and lets them hang by their purple chain. Her blue eyes glimmer with intensity. “It’s a locus,” she says, leaning forward to emphasize her point.