Was I There?

A Katie Morag Kind of Day

It was a Katie Morag  kind of day today.  The hills overlooking the Rogue Valley reminded me of Scotland.  Dark blue glowering rainclouds but the dazzling green of spring.  

I call today a "Katie Morag" day because it reminds me of the excellent books by Mairi Hedderwick that my Scottish pal has been sending the children.  They love the stories-- even the poems (!)-- but I think I am the one who truly wants to be little red-haired Katie, living in her quaint village on an island off the coast of Scotland.

Watching the rainclouds and the rainbows afterward.

Drawing With Children

On summer or weekend days, right after breakfast, we have "art time."  Nothing elaborate, just an immense box of markers and artist-quality sketchbooks.  Sometimes we glue.  Sometimes we paint.  But mostly we keep it pretty simple.

This was Josephine's favorite style of art this summer-- fill the whole page with color. She now has whole sketchbooks of these strange quilts of color, although now she is moving on to more representational drawing.  Eyeballs are predominant in her art; with Theo, it was twig-like hands with thousands of fingers.

I think there is something to just letting them be, putting the materials before them without any timidity or judgement.  

(My own art teacher mom banned coloring books for me-- something about not having to deal with someone else's notion of what things looked like.  Plus, we played that Harry Chapin song over and over again about some little boy who was punished for not coloring the flowers properly like the teacher wanted.)

And yet....I came across the greatest book in a used bookstore last spring-- Drawing With Children by Mona Brookes.  It reminded me of one of Mom's favorites-- Betty Edwards' Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain-- that she used with her students.

Drawing With Children is wonderful in that it breaks down seeing and drawing into small exercises that come off more as play than instruction.  Theo and I are already cobbling together these lessons and my goal is to somehow, even with Josephine, balance the freedom with the practice of art.  

In the end, for all of us, I think it is about seeing, noticing what is around you in the world.  And in that my children are often better than I am, fascinated by the most ordinary of things.

Ex Libris, Old Friends...

scene from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte/ illustration by the marvelous artist, Fritz Eichenberg

Today was a good day.  I started off by calling my faraway Scottish artist pal, Julie Robertson, who was still in her dressing gown (despite it being 3 in the afternoon, Glasgow time!).  Julie was working on several books she has written and is sending off to publishers.  When she visited in July, Julie was toting around several wonderfully written and illustrated children's book "dummies."  She so so inspirational to me, I'm sure I will be mentioning her more in coming days.  I only hope Julie Robertson doesn't forget us when she is famous.

And now the pathetic confession:  Gus and I actually hired a babysitter to wrangle the children this afternoon without naps so we could spend the time putting up the bookcases in our livingroom and wrest those old tomes out of the garage and put them back on the shelves.

Oh, what a dusty tour I took down memory lane!  There were  picture books from childhood, and paperbacks from teenage years that I keep because I can remember where and when I read them.  There were books from college and graduate schools; art books my mom gave me, or educational books from the "original" Josephine; other, random books my teachers gave me or that they wrote themselves.  There were handmade books my students made me, beautifully illustrated and very witty.  And there were books that I have because someone died-- in particular all those Gogol novels I have yet to crack.

"Gogol, Gogol, Gogol, what's up with all the GOGOL!" A dear friend shouted at me as she was helping me arrange all these books the last time I unpacked them.  I actually inherited the Gogols from my outrageous junior-high social studies teacher who was an alcoholic and who collected fine books, none I could afford at his estate auction.  So maybe those Gogols are a way of keeping Mr. W. alive a bit-- how he swashbuckled through life!--- and maybe they represent all those things I mean to do some day.

 

Chicken Portraits Tiles....the debut

The chicken portrait tiles that I was working on this spring, right before the OPA show and my descent into bad health, are....DONE!  Don't they have personality?

I was originally inspired by another one of Josephine's favorite books, Tillie Lays an Egg, by Terry Golson.

Of course, I then had to wrap up this portrait,which looks like Tilly's speckled twin, and send it off to Terry as a "thank you."

Needless to say, the package arrived safely, and Terry wrote about it on her own HenBlog, which is part of the HenCam. (Which as I've said before, you should really check out.)

Sugar Would Not Eat It

I'd thought I'd seen it all, and then Josephine cried over the fact that her favorite library book-- Sugar Would Not Eat It by the wonderful Emily Jenkins-- was checked out.  And I'm not exaggerating-- she sobbed.

This was perfect.  First of all, this is a story about Leo who, listening the "advice" of his urban neighborhood friends, tries to persuade a little stray cat to eat his leftover piece of chocolate-with-blue-roses-birthday cake.  

She just stares at him with an deadpan expression.

Which reminds me so much of said person who cried over this story and love, love, loves it.  Analogy: I am Leo.  Josephine is Sugar.  And no matter how loud "Eat it!"  is shouted, Sugar will not.

I secretly think this is a sign of Josephine's revolutionary spirit, along with going limp while being manhandled. (Practice for passive resistance at WTO protests.)

Anyway.  What a great theme for a birthday!  

The hats!  

The presents!...

an art box and, of course, a personal copy of Emily Jenkins' Sugar manifesto...

a wonderful print by my Scottish artist friend, Julie Robertson....

And of course the cake, which was requested specifically: it had to be coconut and pink.  With sprinkles.

And now for a completely different chicken...

  One of the optional ways to participate in the looming OPA Showcase is to donate a sketch or "other two dimensional representation of your work" which will be raffled off Sunday.  So, as if I haven't enough to do, I got all fired up thinking about how I work from a basic sketch, but carve my platters freehand.

I also got excited by rediscovering Pacific Northwest artist Nikki McClure's children's book.  Nikki is a HUGE inspiration to me--- can you tell that she cuts out an entire illustration from ONE sheet of black paper?

And the color must be dropped in after, during the printing...

 By the way, All in a Day would be a wonderful book to add to your collection, even if you don't have kids.    Cynthia Rylant's writing (poem) is so heartbreaking and true.  

 When I read it aloud to Theo and Josephine, I feel kind of sobered.  It reminds me to enjoy the most ordinary of moments..."A day is all its own."

And now, back to the chickens...

 So Nikki and the call for a paper "sketch" from the OPA spurred me to buy an exacto knife and trash our bamboo cutting board.  I glued some ripped out pages from a Japanese flower book together, tracing my pattern that I use for the clay platters, carefully cut out a black and Japanese white chicken form.

Then I freehand cut the black form.  Measuring and adjusting, I then painted the red comb with red acrylic, pasted the two together using very expensive Spray Mount.  Added the hip green background and... 

ta dah!

 

I know.  It is so fabulous it would make Jackie O. weep.

So now I am considering a career change (clay= bad back, high shipping costs?) (paper= healthier, low shipping, same result, except you couldn't hang it outside in a rainstorm?)  Does anyone out there-- besides you, o faithful Dad, know how I could get this printed?  Like a real artist?  And do you think anyone would buy it?  Or laugh?

Why is it Red?

How do I love chickens and the children's author Roger Duvoisin?  Let me count the ways....

 

 Another relic of my childhood is  Roger Duvoisin's Petunia, a goose who  takes up posing with a book-- and, as a result, assumes she is smart.  Petunia can't count, gives unasked for opinions that actually endanger lives, and proclaims great urban-- I mean barnyard-- myths.

 Take, for example, when Petunia wanders into the middle of an argument between King, the rooster, and Clover, the cow.  They are debating about why King's comb is red.  King says it is because of his blood.  Clover counters that she has blood too, but that doesn't make her a red cow.  Who is to solve this problem?  Petunia!  

'"You are both silly of course," said Petunia.  "King, your comb was stuck on by the farmer so he can tell you from the hens and know who lays eggs and who doesn't.  Plastic comb, I'd say."

And so King never again shook his proud comb in song for fear it might fall off.'

There you have it.

   

Dragons Redux: Kids Crafty Project

 

Mention must be made of where Diane, Theo's preschool teacher, went with the Chinese dragon project.  First of all, this saint of a woman has five four-year old boys in her charge, boys who are painting boldly, with bright colors and big gestures.  These boys also love to paint with things they can get physical with-- tennis balls, toy truck wheels, marbles.

So it was a stroke of brilliance when Diane found an electric back scrubber her mom was throwing away and decided to let the boys use it as a paint brush.  They painted, too, on this strange roll of sticky paper that had been lying about the schoolroom for years.  Then they cut out simple shapes (as you can see) and--- viola! Dragons!

I think this is a fine riff on the Chinese dragon idea, and yet these dragons are ready to march into any day of the year!  We also agreed they were a nice homage to Eric Carle.  You remember "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," don't you?

 

Anyway. I also love how each dragon has a such a unique personality.  

Theo then got kind of crazy and made one dragon eating its tail, and a flying one.  Which he says is his favorite.

 

Cardboard Fetish

Theo's 2009 Halloween costume.  100% cardboard, except for the leg and arm bands, the old TV antenna, canning lids, glitter paper, and the "knobs" which I literally found in the gutter and decided to use.  Also (and you can't see it) I have velcroed (is that a word?) two egg cartons to the back, which Theo can whip off in a moment's notice like a Las Vegas stripper (my image) and hold up in front of him to collect solar rays and recharge (like WallE, his image.)

Why am I showing you a Halloween costume in February?

Because I am thinking of my love for cardboard.

My eyes go shifty when I shop at our local co-op and there are the cardboard boxes for the poor souls who have (those bastards-- more on this later...) FORGOT THEIR HEMP/CANVAS/SAVING THE EARTH bags.

Even if I don't need it, I lust after those cardboard boxes. And I usually stuff, oh, say, twenty, into the back of the car.  The texture, the history, the potential!

 

It would be like going to the moon.  And, speaking of the moon, here is what Theo's preschool teacher Diane had the kids do recently while they were "exploring outer space."  You know what this is, girlfriends: cardboard, a lovely layer, and strange objects, covered in tinfoil, all highlighted with some type of black glue.

Splendid.

This was another one of my favorite books as a kid.  Now, I read it to my own children and feel a sinking feeling when I see the 1970s mom in an apron getting excited about her new refrigerator.

 

But never mind that.  Once, when a former student came to live with us, and we had shopped at the co-op, and I had stuffed cardboard boxes in the back of the car as usual, we were driving home when I saw another WONDERFUL piece of cardboard in someone's trash (I swear, it was like a 3 ft X by 3 ft piece!). Of course, I had to screech to a halt and kidnap it.  But when I got back in the car, Eric (the student) turned to me as if a policeman might turn to an addict.  

"Do you know you have a cardboard fetish? "he asked.

"Yes," I said then.  And I still have to admit it now.  Yes, I do.

Bird of the Month: Magpie

What's funny is that a lot of folks here in Oregon think this is a crow.  That's understandable because magpies don't inhabit the Rogue Valley (or even the northern valleys like the Willamette).  But go on the other side of the mountains, toward the east where the land flattens out and becomes drier, where sagebrush is common, and there they are: the magpies.

This platter now lives in Australia with a loyal etsy customer. 

 

It's interesting how the magpies have evolved.  I think the first one I carved was on three tiles, with a wonderful barbed wire background.  I fired it in my tiny kiln, probably eight years ago, and then thought I'd make it stand up like a three paneled screen.

 

Now I'm all about layers of color and botanical forms.  (Can you tell I'm reading lots of children's books, and particularly admire Eric Carle'?)

I have about five or so drawings I work from, but each platter is painted with whatever colors I'm liking that day.   Also, the botanical forms-- hand cut from pieces of paper on a whim-- if you must know the secret.  The carving, too, is spontaneous, although following the basic pattern.

 

Magpie has even ended up as my "logo" for Pumphouse Studios.  Maybe because it reminds me of Colorado...or maybe because it's so in keeping with that graphic look I love.