We spent a beautiful Memorial Day sailing on the boat belonging to our friends Chris and Anne. Chris took the beautiful picture of Émile, looking particularly sailorly, and me.
Lucy can start, go, and even stop on a two wheeler all by herself. She accomplished this a whole year before I did as a child, and I am incredibly impressed be her coordination, bravery, and determination. I can't wait to go on bike trips with her.
A friend, Jessica Gidal, sent me a link to this very beautiful animation music video, directed by Lucinda Schreiber and Yanni Kronenberg.
What I discovered is that, even though they gave the theme only at the start of the 24 hours, there were more things I could have done to prepare. On the technical side, get the right software and the right cables ahead of time. On the artistic side, create the characters ahead of time, and give a few trial runs of the technique to be used. Overall, this was really good fun. A million thank yous to Laurent, who took the kids to the zoo, into the garden, for naps...
I am pretending I am not a mother of two children, and giving in to 24 hours of (slightly stressful) play. An association in Belgium, Zorobabel (some sort of figure from the old testament, rebuilt the temple--I'm not sure what the significance is) is doing a 24 hour animation marathon.
It started an hour and 25 minutes ago. The theme is John Locke's question about honor among thieves. Loosely. I naturally thought of 6 year olds.
I am waiting for my laptop to open a bunch of files.
Tick, tick, tick...The above is one of Lucy's wonderful writings. I will leave you to decipher, as it's not to far from commonly accepted spellings.
When my painting teacher in my first year class made my friend, Claire Redmon McConnell, redo her portrait of an apple it was because she said the representation was larger than life sized, and no one wanted to look at objects larger than life sized. At the time my teacher, Martha Armstrong, said this, I thought it was arbitrary crankiness. I now realize that, while clearly an overstatement, there is some hint of sense. I still can't explain it, but I find that, in general, and soup cans aside, outsized representations of things, people, tend to fall on the bad side of my irrational aesthetic score card.
All of which is to say that I finked out, and the 24 by 48 inch otter has shrunk to 5 by 8 inches. I still don't know what I am going to put on that big canvas.
It really is a leap to go from rather small to rather large. And, as my friend Nick Kilmer cautioned, not always necessary. But I have this big canvas that I've carried around for ten years, and I feel I ought to use it. I feel like a coward for not using it.
But maybe I won't paint a really large mouse on it.
I'm going through a really dry spot, time wise. Ten minute naps are just a touch frustrating. I'm waiting for the paint to dry so that I can do another coat. I found a very young artist with prints, drawings, and animations, whose work I really enjoyed (particularly the prints): Kathryn Marshall. Graphic but painterly monoprints--perfect combination.
My friend Jinny introduced me to the art of Morris Graves and now I am looking for more. I'm feeling more inspired to move into a more symbiotic relationship with the paint and brush, less purely hierarchical (with me on top.) I have no control anywhere else, why cling to it in art? Oh, wait....
Animation artist and painter, english language teacher and writer, fiddler, owner of a very large black cat. That's in my spare time. Otherwise I am helping keep Emile and Lucy alive, and well, and as happy as I can.