All photos by Sarah Thrower

Makenna Hardy moved to Baltimore in 2010. Her lease on her Hampden home is up December 31st and she has to make a decision: Does she want to stay in Baltimore or does she go explore another city? Over the next six weeks, she will bring you along on her journey as she explores what Baltimore has to offer, before making her final decision.

Part 2: RAWards

 I am writing this as I sit on a bench in Roosevelt Park. I have never actually sat in this park, but I have breezed through here many times on my daily runs. My speed increases in this park based on the rumor that a homeless man was found dead here. Now that I am sitting here, I am realizing that it’s actually quote serene and peaceful. I consider taking a nap,  but instead I will write about the RAWards I attended last week. Click here to read an overview of the RAWards.

On Thursday, November 15th, I made plans to attend the RAWards at Luckies Tavern in Powerplant Live. I had forgotten about Powerplant when I thought about moving away from Baltimore. Powerplant is an entertainment spot and a convenient ten-minute car ride away from Hampden. I’d imagine it wouldn’t take very long to run either based on the fact that I would have to run through some questionable parts of the city pretty fast if I wanted to survive.

My favorite bar at Powerplant is a piano bar called Howl At The Moon. I once came here dressed as a snowman and had a great time. My friends and I were able to request songs throughout the night and musicians would perform them at random. I danced with three blind mice, a doctor, and lady gaga that night. It was Halloween.

Powerplant is also home to a bar called PBR where I once watched a jello wrestling tournament and was violently thrown from a mechanical bull, the perfect mix of being disturbed and entertained. I had never been to Luckie’s Tavern, but I could only imagine the treat I was about to experience.

I tried to bribe my closest friends to attend the event, but even offers of cash and jewelry were not enough so I had to go it alone. Little did I know, it was actually in my best interest to venture solo. If Baltimore is the bacon cheeseburger I spoke about in my first column, clearing inviting a friend to the experience would be like sharing a burger, a taboo in western society.

I arrived and immediately exploded due to sensory overload. There was so much art going on in one venue, that my brain could not process all of it. To add to the explosion was also a man making drumming noises out of his mouth on Stage to the sound of my heartbeat. My heart was racing, so I was impressed.

Once the explosion was over and I had regained my composure I headed over to a stunning asymmetrical beaded necklace. This was not a jewelry booth though. Behind the necklace was friendly woman who introduced herself as Karla Chisholm, a jazz singer and writer.

I noticed she had a free suitcase of CD’s so I took one. I usually avoid freebees because I feel like you get what you pay for. At work we give away food that is past its expiration date but I like my chicken fresh. This was not the case. I later heard her sing on stage with a voice that would make even the freshest chickens seem stale. A bold and smoky chicken marsala with a touch of bass.

I talked briefly about her experiences in Baltimore and she told me that she really felt ‘charm city’ lived up to its name. Her favorite place in Baltimore was the Sherwood Gardens: A Garden of thousands of tulips opened to the public. Baltimore: land of tulips and jello wrestling.

I then caught eyes with my favorite Baltimore hairstylist Rebecca Murry. Rebecca has been cutting my hair for years. She once convinced me to get a blue streak down the side of my head and made it look so good that my family did not disown me.

I asked her how she found out about the awards and she pointed me towards Margot Rogerson who was showcasing her fashionable suiting for women that included bow ties and suspenders. Professional accessories. I wanted one. I wanted it all, but I work in a grocery store and my professional accessories include a nametag and a box cutter.

I then swooped over to Red Door Studio, two sisters that create jewelry out of natural materials. These girls weren’t originally from Baltimore, but have enjoyed creating in the area. They told me they sell their work at the local farmers market, more motivation to get up before noon on Saturday.

I then sampled a plate of wings and fries. Upon crunching into my honey mustard smothered fry, I turned around and saw another familiar face, my boyfriend. He had accepted my bribes after all and I decided to break the taboo and share the bacon cheeseburger with him. We then watched a girl dance from a rope in mid air, something I typically do on Thursday nights. Just kidding.

We received post cards of watercolor portraits from the artist Gel Jamlang. Before seeing her work, I thought watercolor was synonymous with delicate vases of flowers and ocean landscapes. The definition has changed a bit. I now think of watercolors as distorted heads with seven lips and no eyes.

I tried to resist the urge to touch the glossy creations of Fred Shukart. This man takes synthetic resin, minerals, inks, and pigments to create colorful abstract pictures. I am telling you will have to use every fiber of your being not to touch them. I made eye contact with the drawing of Gil Fong and then realized it was not an actual person. We saw a few fashion shows. We watched some breakdancing.

…I think I saw more in one night, than I had probably seen in 2012, all coming from Baltimore. It is impossible to write about everything I saw. The sun is about to set in Roosevelt Park, and there is a mouse in my room so I must get this finished before sundown because mice make me self-conscious of my writing.  They are the worst critics…

Towards the end of the night, I realized that I had to vote for my favorite in each category. To me this was cruel. Everyone here was so different.  How can you compare suspenders to earrings? Try putting a suspender in your earlobe and tell me they are the same.

We had to vote in the form of stickers. Each category had a sticker. In my sensory overload explosion I had managed to crumple up my stickers and was actually missing a few. I tried to look on the floor for the missing stickers but only ended up with a few stares from people that probably thought I had a foot fetish.

I voted for the categories that still had stickers. The judges then took the ballots and while the votes were being counted anyone who wanted to was invited to dance on stage. Competitors became friends. Models became dancers. Karla Chisholm did ‘the robot.’ I thought about getting up on stage and doing some back flips, but then remembered that I didn’t know how to do a back flip.

The votes were cast and the winners were announced. Competitors hugged each other. I had never seen such a gracious group of people. Although the winner won a trip to Hollywood to compete for artist of the year, I felt like that was not the most important part of the evening. It was more about showcasing the art and coming together as a community. Artist that were not known had an opportunity to come out of the woodwork especially artist Roger Walkup who carved pictures on wood.

As fate would have it, I found some stickers on my boyfriend’s sweater when I got home. Not where they belong.  I don’t think I could have made a decision anyway. I am still trying to put a suspender in my earlobe with little luck.

As I stretch my earlobes this bacon cheeseburger seems to be growing less and less moldy. Tonight I was introduced to a talented yet humble group of people from around the area that helped with the purifying process. 4 more weeks until I have to decide…

 

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