Inspired by Wonder

Snow! and art.

2010-03-03T07:49:00.000-08:00

Snow comes only a few times a year where I live, sometimes only once. So we enjoy it while we have it. It was lovely yesterday with "snow stars" as someone called them, floating down nearly all day. It didn't stick until evening,though.
Here is a snow sculpture I made with my eight year old brother. He took the first picture.

"Courage, dear heart"

2010-02-28T23:27:00.000-08:00

I have always loved the imagery in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader when all seems lost and Lucy calls out to Aslan. An albatross comes and circles the mast and Lucy hears "Courage, dear heart." Recently, it has been a reminder to have courage and trust.

A work in progress.

"Grief is great"

2010-01-22T18:26:00.000-08:00

A picture of how I've been feeling a lot this past week: a little girl in need of climbing up into her Father's lap.

A friend died last week. I'd hoped to have some art representing the joy he'd been in the lives of those who had known him, but instead all I have is an older picture, which was a good reminder for me tonight.

Wonder at the Creator's art

2010-01-11T17:30:00.000-08:00

Today we had a walk in the woods seeing the wonders of a short cold spell. Following are a few pictures of the wonders we saw, along with a few from Colorado that crept in while I was trying to guess at which were the ones I wanted to share.

Freedom

2010-01-07T18:01:00.000-08:00

A sound. Roll call! I leap out of bed and land in—softness? I stand trembling.

Freedom. It is a gift. The world is so beautiful -- so wonderful..., and yet, can she ever be truly free? Laugh, love, smile. Or does even now the camp hold her in mockery, clutching her in its long dark shadow.

Can Peace find her?

An attempt to illustrate some of the emotions of a short story I wrote.

Wanderer

2010-01-05T18:30:00.001-08:00

Long ago, I read a poem about a gypsy who, wandering up a country lane, sees a house with looking welcoming, and a lady spinning within. At that moment, she longs to be within.

The housewife, looking out, seeing the gypsy in the wild free air, longs to leave her spinning and go out traveling.

I've often felt like that gypsy. Many times, I've looked at a friend who has stayed in one place all their lives and wished that I too, could be comfortably sitting in a place I could truly call home, that I could be a sitting stone, comfortably gathering moss (to mix metaphors). Some day I hope to paint that scene of the poem -- but not today.

Today the wind is calling. I am the wanderer seeing the downy seed dancing on the wind and longing to follow.

Perhaps the Maker of the wind will give me leave.

Kiosque Peynet

2010-01-05T04:46:00.000-08:00

An older watercolor, this was done so I had a painting of France to go with some from West Africa I'd done. I chose the kiosque as I used to ride by it on the way to school. It is where Peynet likely first began to get his fame, as it is there that he was inspired to draw the first of his (relatively) famous series of lovers. The peak in in the background is the ruins of the Chateau du Crussol, which often played upon my imagination.

A lot of Valence did, from the winding footpath cobblestone road that perhaps my parents had walked upon before I was born, to the great doors with a handle in the middle of the door, to the school I went to with its millstream, forgotten well, and forbidden sections (it was a convent as well as school) the gymnasium we walked to play basketball in. The gym was large and old, with a bullet hole in the high glass. With the Vercors mountains, in which the resistance hid, looming up over the city, I couldn't help wondering if it had played any part in the second World War.

Shepherd's gaze

2009-12-31T08:43:00.000-08:00

"...And there was the baby, lying in the manger.
After seeing him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child."

-Luke 2:16b-17

Wonder of Christmas

2009-12-14T11:12:00.000-08:00

Temoporary hiatus

2009-12-03T06:42:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately, in the confusion of cleaning up after the mu-mu celebrating my brother's 21st birthday, the camera got misplaced.

So posting will be slowed until it is found.

broken string

2009-11-27T23:55:00.000-08:00

Illustration of me staring in dismay as the arrow shoots foward minus the majority of the thread attached to it. Red pen.

A wild and crazy week.

2009-11-27T23:40:00.000-08:00

An attempt at a wide-eyed, over-busy look, self-potrait without looking in the mirror except to double check ears at the end. I tend to use myself often to check something when drawing people that I thought it was worth a try.
Not quite good.

Many apologies once again.
I'd hoped to at least post something for Thanksgiving. Maybe next week.

This week has been full. There was treasure hunt planning to do (some art involved, but it was taken to its location upon its completion yesterday), the writing of lines for nine-characters so that my students could audition for parts before they wrote their play, cpr and first aid training at scouts, housecleaning - home and elsewhere, errands, a car running out of gas, finishing my brother's present, which I'd hoped to share here, but is currently wrapped up, the auditions, the figuring out how to work with ancient thread and a bow and arrow to rig a balloon up between two trees, and baking.

Thanksgiving day was a wonderful break.

Tuareg (Tamajeq) Man

2009-11-19T18:27:00.000-08:00

I had a lot of trouble with the camel's head on this one. It pays to have a reference photo rather than relying on memory.

One of my friends when I was little was of the Tamajeq. Hence they have a special place in my heart.

The turban is indigo, and stains the skin for quite some time after dyeing. I think that's why the Tamajeq are sometimes known as the blue men of the desert.

Three Days to See - concept art for a potential cover

2009-11-17T18:01:00.000-08:00

In an earlier post, I spoke of getting to play Helen Keller in a movie production. This is my attempt to come up with a worthwhile cover for the dvd, which currently has only a print label.

I chose eyes, in part to reflect what she sees, and in part because she speaks of "looking long" into the faces of her loved ones, and the eye is an important part of that.

I wanted "see" in color as I chose to have the seeing days represented in color.

As I write this post, I reminded again to give thanks for sight; to not take it for granted, but to look and see, especially the eyes of friends.

Weighty things -- and a light heart?

2009-11-16T17:00:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry for not posting last week. Adjusting to several new responsibilities has not proved easy.

Here is a picture I painted over the week-end. Quotes are from a poem by E. Barrett. It was a needed reminder, as Russian history has proven weighty.

"running to Him with arms open wide"

"a heart light, not because it hasn't considered weighty things, but because it has not seen the need to carry them on its own"

A bit of fall

2009-11-04T17:46:00.000-08:00

A friend asked me for a painting that involved Autumn. This is part of the results. It was rather fun to paint as I got to mix reds and yellows.

A different sort of art - tangram cakes

2009-11-02T07:44:00.000-08:00

Challenge: Turn one oatmeal flour cake into a tanagram design for an eight year old boy.

Difficulty: Oat cakes are very good, but tend to be quite crumbly

Actually, the hardest part was figuring out an acceptable design. Giraffes and cats are cute, but not to be compared to the hammer cake I was also decorating. Fortunately my oldest younger brother had figured out the pieces and cut them out, so that I could play around with it. I knew I had only one chance to place the cake pieces on the cookie tray. I was glad when the ship shape met approval.

Then came a very careful lifting out and putting them in place. Then the icing. That made life a little difficult. Icing cut wheat flour cakes can be difficult enough without a glaze first. Oat flour cakes make them seem almost easy by comparison. This was a little disappointing, as I enjoy playing around with icing.

Still - it was a tangram cake!

Land of Just Pretend

2009-10-26T11:15:00.000-07:00

Just a sketch while playing around with a pen.

Pen sketches

2009-10-24T17:23:00.000-07:00

Pen sketching while listening to Radio Theatre: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe during rest hour Pen is both a joy to work with, and frustrating, as one can't erase. Since my 2nd/3rd grade teacher insisted everything be done in pen (including math), a lot of my doodles have been in pen - though I would never had dared to doodle on work for her - perhaps not even scratch work.

Aslan's song

2009-10-22T17:50:00.000-07:00

This is inspired somewhat by listening to Focus on the Family's Radio Theatre: Magician's Nephew, and in part by the wonderful week-end I spent with a friend from school.

A quick study

2009-10-20T18:29:00.000-07:00

This is just a quick study, done in colored pencil of a ballet dancer in motion from one of the books I am reading to prepare for teaching about Russia.

Paper doll sketches for Russian studies

2009-10-15T13:59:00.000-07:00

Since I'm teaching a few different age levels, I thought I'd make some Russian paper dolls at least for the youngest. That way, she'll have something Russian related to keep her occupied with when she gets bored. I may end up making one per child though.

Cartography - aii.

2009-10-14T11:57:00.000-07:00

A map slightly larger than A4 drawn for a home-school study on Russia.

I've struggled with cartography off and on ever since I was six and trying to draw a map of Burkina Faso for U in an alphabet book. My mother solved the problem by telling me to draw the basic shape.

Drawing maps of imaginary countries was fun - I could doing anything I liked with landmass. It was copying the real maps that proved a problem. I did get better, but it is still frustrating to finish a map, and discover that some angles were off and that the sides didn't quite meet (as in this one).

On the other hand, there are small perks, such as discovering that the north east corner of Russia looks like a little dog:

A little mouse

2009-10-13T10:57:00.000-07:00

This was a break from nests and houses.

wonder

2009-10-08T02:21:00.000-07:00

2009-10-07T10:22:00.000-07:00

Quote to ponder:
"rather than making America more Christian, the mega-churches have simply succeeded in making Christianity more American"
D. Goodmanson on modern churches

Man proposes...

2009-10-05T13:26:00.000-07:00

So, after saying that I hoped to take a break from the computer for a little bit this week, I received a commission for which I decided to use the computer for reference photos as I've found that unless I have had experience drawing something, reference is necessary.

Here is the result of the sketchings,albeit a bit fuzzy (my apologies):

A break

2009-10-03T14:52:00.000-07:00

My apologies for not having a picture to go with this.
I am seriously considering setting apart at least a portion of next week as a break from the computer. Hence, I will likely not be posting.
God bless.

Lucy seeing Aslan

2009-10-01T13:07:00.000-07:00

from the book Prince Caspian

Never Alone

2009-09-30T09:51:00.000-07:00

Wonder of Christmas

2009-09-29T12:27:00.000-07:00

It was Christmas. The rehearsal was in full swing. Mary sat demurely contemplating the plastic doll, trying to pretend it was the same as the year before, when she had a real baby to love and hold. The shepherds, 3 younger boys came up the aisle. One walked slow and solemn, the others full of glee.

They came and knelt, and the solemn one knelt and assumed the prayerful attitude one sees on classic Christmas cards. The other two crowded forward eagerly and reached out to touch the doll. As soon as he saw this, the first boy began to signal frantically. That wasn't how things were done.

but Mary sat and pondered these things in her heart. The two had come with joy and eager wonder. Had the original ones come with such?

This is an hour's work on an index card and I'm afraid it's not the best. I'd like to have worked on it more, but other things await. Someday, though, I'll try again, and perhaps again, until I can hopefully capture the joy and wonder of those two as they pressed forwards to see the "baby."

Top 3 excuses for not doing art homework

2009-09-28T10:24:00.001-07:00

""I had to make supper and that included picking the beans and then ..."

"We had a sudden influx of peaches and they had to be cut for drying and we have four driers and no one wanted to help and..."

"Horses suddenly appeared in my backyard"

I don't officially have homework for art, but my afternoon was interrupted by horses appearing in my backyard.

Filled with wonder and delight, I went out to see them, to see if I could get a glimpse of any identifying marks, and to hopefully figure out a way to encourage them to stay.

I was about 10 feet away when I realized it might have been wise to bring something to halter the horses if I managed to actually get close to them. This in itself was a little doubtful as they looked to be stallions.

Still, if I could... A cursory glance around showed little. There was a thin orange twine nearby, but it looked like it would be uncomfortable for the horse. As I debated, I slowly pulled at it, and meeting resistance nixed the idea at once.

I then pulled up some grass. Perhaps they would take something from my hand.
by now, our next door neighbours, (N.1) had shown up, as well as more children. I grew a little nervous as to how the horses would react to so many strangers.
Then the dog belonging to N.1 also finally got around to noticing that there were strange creatures in the yard next to hers, and began barking.

That, and perhaps my close presence, was a little too much for the horses. One of them decided to amble off towards the road. "All for one," the rest followed, although the last horse came first to me, and took the grass I proffered.

He then let me walk along beside him, holding his mane. I began to debate as to whether or not I should try to mount the horse. It had been three years since I had last done so. I was afraid of spooking him further. At the same time, they were heading off, and I didn't know how much I could keep up with them if they decided to go faster.

It was at that point the group of children and N.1 thought that perhaps loud noise would scare them away from the road. The horses reacted by going faster. I tried quickly to mount, failed, and ran along, grasping the mane. As they broke out into a trot, I let go, afraid I would fall else.

At this point I began to run alongside. A neighbour who works across the street and has horses had been called (N.2). I knew that the horses needed some sort of supervision. So I ran, feet slapping on the rough tarmac.
A neighbour (N.3) along the street called out, "lovely horses." Shooting past her, I answered, "Yes, ma'am."

Then N.2 caught up with us in a little cart. He was trying to herd them around just as a mini-van came around the corner. The horses spooked even more, and broke into a run.

I quickly dropped behind, and fearing I could do little, started walking back. I stopped to talk with N.3, who told me the horses had indeed come from the direction they were now running in.

Seeing N.1 drive by in his Rabbit, I took off to try and tell him the news. He stopped, let me in, and we drove to find that the cart had gotten caught in a ditch and the horses had stopped next to a retired chicken farmer and his field.

Another neighbour (N.4) had driven in after talking to N.2, and was keeping watch.

I went slowly up and tried to make friends again. N.2. told me to try and open the gate nearby. It proved to be padlocked with a rusty lock. So, I stood there, trying to keep them calm. They let me stand among them, and feed them a little, and pet them, but largely ignored me.

N.2, went and talked to the chicken farmer, and found out that there was another gate open around the barn. He asked me to try and lead them. That didn't work so much.
Then the one who had led the others towards the road (perhaps the mastermind of the breakout?) decided to move. He went around the barn and straight into the pasture of his own accord, leading the other "Musketeers."

After they settled a bit, N. 2 asked me to check the fence for apertures. Sure enough there was one on the far corner, where termites had felled a couple of fence posts. So I took up guard and watched them from a distance.

In the meantime, N.2 went off with N.1 and his son to try to find the owner. While they were gone, neighbours of the chicken farmer (N.5), came over with some boards and nails, and propped up the fence posts.

It wasn't long before they returned with the news that they thought they had found the owner, at work, but being notified by his father.

Horses secured, owner found, we went home.

A spoonful of fun makes the chores go quickly

2009-09-24T10:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes all one needs to make work fun is a companion and a little imagination.

My 7-year-old brother and I were taking care of the morning's batch of green beans. He was washing, and I was stringing. At first work went normal.
He rubbed the beans and placed them into the bowl for me to string.

Then things got interesting. I think the beans first started missing the bowl and landing into the sink.
Then they were on the sink.
Soon he was laughing, and soon almost every bean was jumping. I kept insisting they were not Mexican Jumping beans, but he only laughed and the beans kept jumping.

Most made it into the bowl. A few landed in the dishes still unloaded. One even landed in the potato bag!

Afterwards, as we sat down to eat lunch, I doodled a bean on the back of junk mail.
My brother liked it, so I later added some color:

\
Jumping bean cousin ready for mischief

(We won't mention the time I talked my siblings into throwing the washing into the tree rather than on the clothes line)

Joy comes in the morning

2009-09-23T11:37:00.000-07:00

All was still. The tears were gone, leaving a quiet emptiness. Slowly she began to read again.

The words thrust home bring quiet wonder with them. For the moment, joy reigned.

This was just a quick little painting on an index card.

Initially I thought that this picture was just one of delight, even though while I painted her eyes, I thought she looked sad. The more I looked at her eyes however, the more it looked like she had indeed been crying, but had been reminded of God's goodness.

Not in a superficial way, but in a way that reached the depth of her being, so that for a moment "crying slept softly with joy" (Miller).

A Colorado tree

2009-09-19T03:35:00.000-07:00

I drew this while taking a break from the moving deer. I think the strange object floating above the tree is an attempt at an ear.

Sorry things have been a bit sporadic since I've come back.

A growing wonder through sketching

2009-09-15T11:51:00.000-07:00

I must admit, I wasn't quite sure what to make of mule deer when I saw them up close. I liked their ears, - but they were so different from our white-tail deer here on the east coast (never mind the little African deer I used to see in zoos).

Then they stayed and stayed and stayed. So I grabbed my sketch book and began to draw.

I now have several pages worth of little bits, perhaps studies, of the deer. And as I drew I began to really see them.

I began to appreciate how God had designed them and to see their beauty. It was a wonderful hour.

Off to adventure

2009-08-31T16:57:00.000-07:00

I'm leaving in a couple of days to go visit my brother who is at the Air Force Academy.
So, since I doubt I will have access to a computer much in the next two weeks, I will most likely not be posting.
I'll be taking my sketchbook, so hopefully I'll have a few new sketches or paintings to share.
In the meantime, Tea with Tiffany has some interesting posts related to wonder and delight.

Wise words on beauty and suffering and reflections thereon

2009-08-28T20:06:00.000-07:00

Reflected Light (bethimpson.wordpress.com) has several essays worth reading, including one on beauty and one on suffering.

Reading them, it makes me wonder about my visual art. Do I paint Truth? Does it include suffering?
I'm not sure it does. Part of it is that I have yet to gain the technical skill.

Upon reflection however, there are paintings. I do not have time to dig them up now, and they are far from good, but I will describe a few.

There is the girl in the karite tree, looking into the sky, with a bit of longing. There is the storm around a rock with a cleft, in which a girl is hidden. Amazingly, the rock is in the shape of a hand (not planned by me).

There are the attempts to draw hope. There is the girl with the broken heart, and the subsequent ones drawn of her giving it to her Father, and then, hugging the new one.

So why have I walked away from these paintings?
There are probably several reasons, but I am afraid the biggest one is the same reason I have had trouble sitting down to write recently -- I am afraid. It is slightly scary to do a reasonable sized painting one wants to get right technically when one is still learning to control the paint. It is another thing to walk the fine line between beauty and suffering.

Not that there isn't a place to see and watch the wonders of the stars, and to portray the wonder of the shepherds (the painting I am slightly scared of). There is, but as Dr. Impson wisely says, we cannot ignore suffering. She says, building on the wisdom of others, that it is only by going through suffering can we find joy, and more importantly, to have our eyes opened to know God.

I think I need to pray.

gifts and unexpected opportunities

2009-08-27T14:50:00.000-07:00

Sometimes gift can be used in places and ways one would never expect, even small gifts.

A couple of summers ago, I went to India for three months as a teacher's aid.
The school had a small collection of learn-to-read English, about which was nice, but not enough for a classroom of twenty to thirty children.
So one of my supervisors, a very dear lady from England, took the words from the books and wrote new stories for them on giant card. She then asked me to illustrate them.

A friend of my mother's, reflecting on her own mother's life service, said that it was likely that the decorating she did for various friends living overseas was among the greatest service she had ever done. My guess is that this women thought she was just helping out with what she enjoyed doing.

I hope to remember that, even when helping is little more than being the dog running to get Dad.

addendum

2009-08-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

I cannot sleep knowing that I ended rather simplistically.

If God is loving and in control, then why so many wrong things?
Why human bondage?
Why was a bird that was not a bird flew up into the air, to be shot in cold blood?
Why are so many were raped, imprisoned and beaten?
Why did L. M. Montgomery suffered as a pastor's wife?
Why did my brother die?

The answer is complex, I think, and I am far from understanding it.
This much I know, however: Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus and over the city of Jerusalem. Evil things happen, and God allows them, but He still cares.

Anne, beauty, wonder, and life

2009-08-25T18:59:00.000-07:00

I really like the story of Anne of Green Gables.

Initially it was just a good story about a girl who was a kindred spirit. I was six when I first read Anne, and started spelling my middle name, Ann, with an e. That went on until my mother caught it and explained I'd been named without the e for a reason.

Then, as a teen-ager and on into my twenties, I began to feel akin to Anne, because I too was "of Nowhere in Particular." There is no particular place I felt I could say I belong to. Gradually, though, I came to accept that I was adopted into God's family. Like, Anne, I am no longer of Nowhere.

Recently, I've come to appreciate her wonder in life around her. Anne had been through a lot in her early years, and yet the beauty of the world around her never ceased to give her joy.

Later in life, it would be tempered and enriched and deepened by sorrow, but it was not destroyed.

A young man about to be executed wrote his fiancée that the natural outcome of sorrow is happiness, if one would let it. I think Anne wisely let it happen.

The world is a lovely place. Sometimes it seems too lovely.

I remember walking campus after hearing of human trafficking, and seeing the soul-stirring beauty around me, and almost crying out at the dichotomy. It is not always an easy thing to reconcile.

And yet--
in a way it speaks of hope.
There is much evil and wrong, but the God of beauty and order and love is still in control.

I know L.M. Montgomery struggled with life, and I have yet to read much of her life, but I like to hope that like Anne, some part of her clung to the wonder in the world and God's goodness.

Phantastes reading meeting

2009-08-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

Phantastes

In distant past when days were shorter
When Bryan's boys and Bryan's girls
Few in number Knew each other
Then a Junior Joy by name
Not yet travelled Never been to other worlds
Heard the call Come to Narnia

With five others Found the way
Through the dead land Damned by Jadis
Who despairing, death Dealt with a word
That word of secrets Since forgotten
Word of terror, Winning nothing
Save the pride Of the Speaker of doom

There the witch
They saw awoken
By the children Brought from our world
And through this
They entered Narnia
Watching how the Witch came also
Seeing Narnia New created

(Here the several lines become illegible, ruined by water, reportedly
in the great flood of Robinson Hall, or North as its name was called
in the ancient times).

On they went Through days and months
Seeking always Some adventure
Others joining On the way
Then at last They spoke together.
Chose a regent Ruler of them
Formed a club Phantastes named it

(Here the rest of the poem is lost, blurred with water. Most scholars
believe that it contained more information concerning the formation of
the club and the adventures continuing afterwards. The following
portion was discovered in the kitchen of Robinson, being used as shelf
paper. While some scholars debate the authenticity of the manuscript,
most agree it is the ending of the poem).

Still the Narnians* Seek adventure

Thursday now They travel on
Still the Regent Sends out e-mails
Calling Narnians Come and travel

*Although the group was officially called Phantastes, a letter
recovered from an e-mail account of the original Lord Regent shows
that among themselves, they used the name Narnians.

These are pictures from the sketch of the original Illustrator, yours truly.

I was not one of the original six, but was there when the club was formed. We met once a week in the evenings to read children's literature, passing the book from one to another

I almost always had a sketch book along. Others would bring knitting, paper cutting, sewing

- and yes, even homework...

Goodnight

Improvement = Practice : a visual representation of what practice can do

2009-08-18T13:51:00.000-07:00

The above picture was a simple sketch done five years ago. To be honost, I thought it was pretty good at the time and compared to what I did five years previous to that, it was.

The picture below is a simple sketch done a few weeks ago. I haven't taken any art lessons, though I have likely picked up a few things from books and looking at other's art.

What made the difference is constant doodling and experimentation almost any time I have a writing implement on hand and some paper. My family will tell you - I have been known to decorate napkins with burnt matches before.

The thing is that I tend to draw people, with some animals and other things occasionally thrown in. So while these are decent people drawn off of the top of my head, if you asked me to draw, say a car without something to copy from, it might look quite a bit strange. I haven't practiced. Yet a boy I know might well be able to pull off a wonderful car, while only drawing a basic person.

It's amazing what can happen when one practices.

A Wedding Card

2009-08-17T09:30:00.000-07:00

A good friend of mine from school just got married last Saturday. So after much long thought, I created the above painting to use for their card.

I started out by doodling out the design. I knew I wanted verses from 1 Corinthians 13.

Initially, I thought I'd like to do a portrait of the couple, helping each other with the dishes. The problem was that I only had a sketch of my friend, not her fiance, and having only met the chap twice, I wasn't too sure about attempting to portray him from memory alone.

Then, I remembered that they both liked hiking. This fell into place with trees, the memory of a very stylized plate another friend designed for her own wedding, and the song " Like a tree planted by the water."

Two trees, crossing each other, branches and roots forming a heart took place in my thumbnail sketch.

I penciled the outline while driving with my mother to pick peaches to dry for the winter.
After the peaches were taken care of for the day, painting began.

I worked slowly. Although watercolor is relatively forgiving on the right paper, this was an expression of love for a wedding - I wanted to do my best.

I hope they have a blessed marriage.

Small deeds

2009-08-14T19:03:00.000-07:00

I long to soar - to live life to its fullest.
Yet I do not see that little things like helping a younger sister enjoy math, planting beets for harvest later, drying peaches, cooking supper for my mother - these are all things of beauty and of worth.

I once read a story about the knights of the silver star. The most valiant among them would have a silver star appear upon his shield at the moment of some great deed. A battle arose, and all longed to go out and fight - and all did so, save one young man, chosen to stay and guard the castle gate. All day long he fought his feelings of despair at having been chosen for such a lowly task. Worse yet, he had to face the taunts of visitors, who called him out to the battle, and finally the news of one old lady who informed him that his friends did poorly. Still, he held his trust, bitter though it was. And it was well, for his mockers, and yea, even the old lady, were the castle's enemies, trying to breach the defenses. So it was that that young knight won his silver star.

There is a time and a place for daring-do and great deeds, but there is also a time and a place for small and quiet deeds. "For the want of the nail, the shoe was lost ..."

I hope I can be faithful in little, and not look too far ahead.

Thank you Helen Keller

2009-08-13T04:01:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, I had the honour of playing Helen Keller in a movie based on her essay, Three Days to See.

The essay, for those who have not come across it, is Helen Keller's call to the seeing world to pay attention to the details around them. In it she imagines what she would see, if she had only three days to see.

Helen saw and heard with her fingertips. So, I had to learn to see with mine. To this day, I'll sometimes stop and stare into the distance while running my fingers over something. I began to notice things I never did before, such as how uneven a grass plot can be.

In the three days, I had to think on seeing everything for the first time. Truly I think it would have been a wonderful, overwhelming experience. A thousand little details: the colors of the flowers, the glory of the sunrise and set, the joy and wonder of friends faces, the face of a baby- and unreadable characters on a page.

I love to read. Helen loved books. It was therefore one of the saddest things to eagerly snatch up a book, only to realize that Helen wouldn't have been able to read her dear books that were not braille, had she been granted the gift of sight for three days.

There are times when I am lazy, and don't truly see everything, but I do see a lot more now,and take time to deeply drink in the visual beauty of the world around me. Thank you, Helen Keller.

Sketch book images: Peaceful War

2009-08-12T10:50:00.001-07:00

Wonder in darkness

2009-08-11T17:37:00.001-07:00

Silvia Tarniceru was a women inspired by wonder. In her biography by Harvey Yoder her musings from a time when she had just been moved to a drab colorless concentration camp are recounted:

"Perhaps it is because the lives of these men, these police, have no meaning," I mused. "If we have no direction for our living, we become insensitive to beauty, to attractive surroundings.[...]

"I thank God that my parents taught me to appreciate beautiful things. Even though Mama was busy with her work, she would always let us put a bouquet of wildflowers on the table.[...]

"I believe God wants us to love beauty. He made a beautiful world. The hill behind our house when I was a child held so much beauty. The deep, dark woods; the fragile wild flowers; the musical thrush; and the delicate ferns."

God Knows My Size

I hope that when hope is deferred in my life as it was for her (she had just been sent back to Romania after having escaped to Yugoslavia), I will be able to praise God and reflect on the wonders of his creation as she did on this occasion.

I didn't do it today. A small thing had been deferred, and rather than praising God, and looking at the wonders of the woods around me, I was crying out in despair.

Perhaps though, it is not a bad things. The psalms in particular are full of cryings out to God. The thing is, most of them end up with either praise, or the choice to continue to trust in God.

"Praise the Lord, I tell myself" Psalm 103:1a.

Penciless outlining for watercolours

2009-08-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

I realize that the picture at left is a bit fuzzy, and I apologize for this.

It's illustrating a new technique I've discovered: outlining in orange. Pencil tends to show through.

Usually on small paintings, I just paint. However this painting is in fact close to 8 1/2 by 11 in real life. Much more detail therefore is required. Hence the outlining in light orange.

I discovered long ago that orange paint diluted with a certain amount of water creates a nice lighter skin tone. Now I have found it works for outlines too.

brief thoughts and advice on movie making

2009-08-06T11:03:00.001-07:00

I suppose an art inspired blog can include movie making thoughts.
Especially since the first short film I made was based on Helen Keller's Three Days to See, an essay on the wonder of sight.

If you are making a film:

Write, rewrite, write again a screenplay. Focus on visuals. Film is a visual medium. The film professor at the college I went to wanted all his filmmakers to begin with a silent film for this reason.

Per Walter Mirch: Story is King. Does an element further the story? Emotion is Queen. Is an element emotional? Rhythm is Third. Does the story have good flow? (This is more important in Post-production).

Consider making a silent film. Sound can be tricky, and an added dimension of worry for the director.

Get as many people to help out with various jobs as possible. It's hard to do everything at once.

If you are director, try to avoid anything but a minor acting role in the film. It will enable you to focus more on your job rather than splitting your time between two very different focus areas for the film. I ended up being a main actor in both of the films I have made so far, and regretted it both times. I love acting - but it is hard to do both, especially as a beginner.

Watch movies. Take notes. See how shots are done. Turn off the sound and see if you can follow the story. Figure out why.

Consider drawing a storyboard - even simple lines can help a lot. Again film is a visual medium. Think visually.

Plan your shoot. Have an idea of what you want. Don't forget to take shots that can be used for cut-aways if necessary. This enables the editor to work with various visual and continuity problems. It can also add wonderful texture to a film.

Write to your capabilities and resources. Explosions tend to be expensive and dangerous. Your job is not to imitate a favorite action movie (unless you are deliberately doing a campy spoof), but to the best with what you have.

Get white noise. This is where one yells "quiet on the set" and records several minutes of pure "silence". It helps your editor work with annoying shifts of sound, and makes your movie sound more professional.

If you are recording sound, aim for the best sound possible. So many great beginning visual films that are dialog driven fail because the sound isn't good. I struggled with this on my second film.

Add music, but do so wisely. Copy-righted music limits what you can do with a film. Royalty free music exists. Imcompetech.com is one good site with royalty free music.

These are not but a few thoughts, and things I'd wished I'd known, but I hope they help someone.

Mainly : have fun, and as my professor always said: make magic.

The wonder of the storm

2009-08-06T04:05:00.000-07:00

Have you ever stood in the wind, and watched as the clouds gather, and the trees lash, and been amazed?
Yesterday was a particularly amazing pre-storm, as it was both light and dark, and the play of light on the dancing trees was eerie. Then, in the midst of the rain, a rainbow stretched across the sky. At that point, we were driving to church, and the streets were flooded, causing huge jets of spray - not fun to drive in as the driver, but ...

BBC's reading list - a glimmer of the origin

2009-08-05T10:31:00.000-07:00

Many people have been passing a list of books around saying that BBC believes most people have only ever read six out of the hundred . Wherever it is from, it is rather an interesting social phenomena, as many viral Internet things are.

Curious, I did a quick Google search. It turned up nothing besides others who marked the list. Doing a search on BBC initially only produced a couple of lists of 100 favourites and a mention of children reading six books over the summer holidays.

Determined, I tried again, this time selecting the first 6 books of the list as my search words. An article referencing the top ten books from 2007 was the first thing I uncovered. All ten books mentioned matched the first 10 books on the list.

Unfortunately, further searches failed to turn up the original Top 100 list of 2007, if that is indeed what the article references. Still, although the origins of the "6 out of 100" story remain obscure, it is highly unlikely that BBC considers such a thing as people's favourites are usually widely read.

It makes sense that the list would be of favourites, for it is an extremely eclectic list - Enid Blyton is a children's writer.

Having now expounded upon my meager attempts to solve the mystery here is my own check-offs of the list. Books that are in bold are ones that I have read. Those with an X are ones I liked a good bit.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen X
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien X
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling Jury is still out as to whether I like the series or not
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee X
6 The Bible X
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

Total: 8

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott X
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare - Not all, but several
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien X
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

Total: 2

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell 1/2 - 3/4
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams X
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll X "Beware the Jabberwock my friend...
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame X

Total: 3 1/2

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens X
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis X
34 Emma-Jane Austen liked, but no so much as her others
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen X
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis X
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hossein
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne X

Total: 6

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell 42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery X
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

Total: 2

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen X
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens liked, yet didn't
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Total: 3

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas Another liked, but didn't
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville - Bits

Total: 1

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens X
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett X
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno – Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome X (Unfortunately I've only read part of the series)
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

Total: 4

80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens X
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White X
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle X
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton (I don't think so)

Total: 4

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery Liked but didn't
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams Again liked but didn't
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute X
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas X
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl X
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo - On Facebook, I said i had read this, but upon reflection, I think it is still only excerpts, so I shall subtract it from here.

Total: 7

Final Tally: 39/100 (and bits)

Hand Palette

2009-08-04T12:16:00.000-07:00

Painted hand
When I was in college, I used to attend a reading group called Phantastes every Wednesday night. Since it started at nine and often went to 12 or 12:30, I would take my sketch books and paints along.

Without a place to truly mix colors one night, I tentatively used my other hand. I soon began to use it for my palette almost exclusively. The control it offers is marvelous. Of course I only do so with non-toxic water colors.

Wonder, joy and art

2009-08-04T08:36:00.000-07:00

The brilliant colors of fall leaves. A gust of wind. Rainbows in the grass. Diamonds on the water. All of these stir my soul and create a wonder and a longing C. S. Lewis calls joy.

Since I was little, white pages have never been quite safe from me. Pictures, and later words, had a tendency of spilling across the page - initially done by the accompaniment of tuneless singing.

Once, bored in school, I even experimented with marker-soaked tissues and the desk. Needless to say, that didn't go over too well, though it did result in my being moved up a few grades (I had been put back because I "didn't read French").

Perhaps the joy and wonder always inspired what I did, since I had the tendency to color boldly, initially without care of lines. Gradually I learned to be more careful, and to make and sing (and play) things others would enjoy.

I'm still learning. These pages will hopefully contain the record of the journey, and of my awe at the work of the greatest and first Artist of all.