The Piano Boy

This year, The Boy asked to learn the piano. After enduring weeks of persistent prodding, we gave in and signed him up for lessons at a local music school. The thing about piano lessons is you kinda need a piano. We are not in a position to acquire one at the moment, and notwithstanding the initial expenditure or the space it would take up, we don't know how long The Boy will stick to this particular flavour of the week (we've already experimented with both guitar and drum lessons to no avail)... So I was asking at the music school if they had a piano available there for us to practice on. The receptionist said: "Not really..." but then handed me the coordinates of a local business. "That's the Musical Instrument Lending Library" he said. "Not sure if they have any keyboards, but it's worth checking out". Why I have never heard of this place before - like before we went out and bought a whole drum kit AND an electric guitar with all the fixings - is beyond me. I live under a rock I guess. Anyway, it sounded like just the solution we were looking for.

The next day, with The Boy in tow, we went downtown to check the place out: a large dark basement filled to the joists with used musical treasures including a mountain's worth of pre-loved guitars. A musician's dream. True, the place emitted a certain odor, and of course, was staffed by the obligatory ornery shopkeeper. Nevertheless, we were excited to poke around and see what we could see. Once we located the stacks of keyboards, we spent some time going through them. The Boy wanted something befitting a nine-year old. I suggested a very simple, 88-key electric piano. "No thanks", he said. He was looking for something slick. Something cool. Something with lights and buttons and bling to explore. In the end, he chose an electronic keyboard, a Yamaha Portatone. I paid I tiny fee for my new "library" card, and we were golden. We get to hang on to the keyboard for 5 weeks at which time we must either take it back and renew it, exchange it for something else, or just leave it behind. It's a pretty sweet deal I figure.

The keyboard's been in the house for 3 weeks now. So far, so good. The Boy likes it and, for the moment, practices without prompting. I'm not holding my breath but I hope this enthusiasm lasts... He spends the bulk of his practice time improvising. I just love hearing the music he creates. It's quite, shall we say, experimental. Every now and then he comes out with something melodic and pretty. Thrilling! But there's also been another important side-effect since bringing the keyboard home. He's actually playing far less Minecraft. And that, my friend, is a beautiful thing.

♥M

In A Dark Time...

No crafts and no computer. I'm on a break for the entirety of August. Details here!

♥M

The Privilege of a Lifetime...

This August I am putting my feet up and doing nothing! Find out more here.

♥M

Anything That Is Unrelated...

Needed to chillax, so I took the whole month of August off. Find out more here...

♥M

It's A Funny Thing...

August is break-time baby! Details here.

♥M

I Dream...

This August I am taking a bloggy break to spend a few lovely work-free weeks with my sweet family. The blog is on auto-pilot. Details here!

♥M

The Little Reed...

I'm off enjoying some computer-free time this August. I'll return at summer's end. Learn about my August Break here...

♥M

Torn.

Do you sometimes feel like the universe is conspiring?

We discovered this little creature and a tangerine sibling on the woodpile in our old garage this weekend. We're trying not to disturb them. The orange one is skittish and hides whenever I peek in. I captured this one with the zoom lens on. It stared me down with a steely gaze as I took its picture.

We haven't seen the mother.

My heart is feeling all strange. I'm drawing pictures of them. I've named them: Ashes and Embers.

I've never owned a cat. Never had a pet. Well... except for our cute fishes. 

Ooooh, I'm so torn... What do I do???

♥M

Wisdom

♥M

Kid Craft: The Boy's Robot Maze

Over the March Break, The Boy had a chance to create some really fun art work. One of the things he made, the following kid craft, was directly inspired by the work of art teacher, Christie, and the kids she teaches. Her blog, Fine Lines, is one we both enjoy perusing.

Using Christie's Pattern Pathways as a jumping off point, The Boy created his funky "Robot Maze". He started with two sheets of 8-1/2"x 11" printer paper, and cut each into 6 small rectangles. He built his "robot" from the resulting 12  rectangles, and concocted his continuous maze first in pencil and then in marker. He then added colour to the snakey bits of the maze in colourful marker. And finally, he painted the outside of the maze with cake paint.

Once the paintings were dry, we placed them under a stack of books to flatten out the wrinkles. His Robot Maze is displayed proudly on our kitchen cabinets.

It's an organic looking sort of robot, isn't it? Pretty cool, I think.

Thank you Christie for the flow of art ideas for children. I want you to know that we love and appreciate your talent and hard work.

♥M

P.S. In the next post, I'll be asking you to fill out a 5 question survey. I need your excellent input on a few things and thought a little survey might just do the trick! Until then?

Our Resident Robin

This year we are sharing our back yard with a mama robin and her nest of eggs. I've never experienced living side by side with a robin before. I think it's pretty darn special. It's mostly a matter of mutual ignoring from what I can see. She ignores us fervently; we do our very best to ignore her back.

I had no idea she even existed until Lo pointed her out to me a few weeks ago. I don't know how I missed her. Her nest is built quite precariously on our trellis a foot away from the patio table. It is about 6 feet off the ground, too high for anyone to easily see inside. Lo took it upon himself to take a little "egg inventory" the other day with the step ladder and binoculars. It turns out there are two very blue eggs in there. From all accounts, she has the patience of a saint. She sits on her eggs many hours every day leaving only to get a lickety-split meal of worms from the garden before getting back to work. It's pretty cute how still and focussed she seems to be while sitting there.

I'm getting a little worried though. The incubation period seems to be lasting quite a while. It's supposed to range from between 9 to 15 days for robins. I think it's stretched beyond that... All we can do is wait I guess... And hope.

In the meantime I drew up two robin outlines, and The Boy and I sat quietly colouring them in.

It's a good way to keep busy while patiently waiting for little ones to hatch... Come on birdies, you can do it!

♥M

Space Exploration by The Boy

Broken bones don't slow kids down, as it turns out.

Their little hearts keep beating, their little brains keep buzzing, their little hands keep moving.

Undeterred. Resilient. Busy as ever.

As it should be.

♥M

Round the Bend With a Redoubtable Rodent

Yesterday, my baby sister has the day off, so we plan to get together in the morning to catch up on things. Since I'm heading in that direction anyway, I decide it's a nice opportunity to take the yard waste to our city's local composting center. You should see the massive amount of organic waste that's turned into compost over there. It's a gardener's paradise. Mountains and mountains of gorgeous, dark, rich compost. You think I exaggerate. But I do not. One day I'll take pictures. You will see.

Anyway. So I stuff the car's trunk with a few bags of yard waste, and the remaining bag I cram in the back seat. I'm all set and ready to go.

Into the car I get. The radio is tuned in to CBC radio's hottest daytime radio show called "Q". It's a very entertaining, very informative, non-gossipy show that I listen to for my regular art and pop culture fix. On today's show, Jian (pronounced Gee-On) the host, is interviewing A.J. Jacobs author-journalist of the new health adventure book Drop-Dead Healthy: One Man's Quest for Bodily Perfection. According to A.J.'s research, sitting for long periods is absolutely terrible for you. He rectifies this by spending several hours a day slowly walking on a treadmill whilst simultaneously working at his laptop which is somehow jerryrigged to the top of the treadmill. Intriguing.

I'm temporarily distracted by sounds coming from the back seat. But it's just branches settling against the sides of the paper yard waste bag.

Author guy on the radio goes on by affirming that refined sugar and flour are pretty much the devil incarnate... Probably true. Moreover, he suggests there's nothing quite like trying new things to boost one's feelings of well-being. I concur there. I think new experiences are key to keeping one interested and vital.

That's when I see it. Out of the corner of my eye. A furry scurrying scampering beast scooting about the passenger side. Aaaaaaaack!  Eeeeeeep! Heeeeeeelp! Expletive. Expletive. There's a HUGE MOUSE in the cccccaaaaar! I have to GET OUT of heeeere! I MUST stop this car NOOWW! Oh! Oh. Oh. BLAAAASSST.

Without signalling, I immediately veer off to the side of the road, jam on the brakes, and bust out of that car forthwith. I open all the doors and begin shooing and shouting at the inside of the car in an attempt to compel the beast out... After a few moments, I stop. I don't see the mouse in there anywhere... Where d'it go?... Is it still in the car?... Is it gone?... How am I supposed to know?.. Eep... Maybe it hightailed it out of there... Maybe not though... I simply DO NOT KNOW.

I could walk home. It's only minutes away... I decide to be brave. I decide to risk it all and go back in.  I can't just abandon the car here. Mouse or no mouse, I must get in the car and drive to the composting center. Steel yourself Michele. You can do this... You don't WANT to do this but you CAN do this!

Luckily it's a very short drive. But I'm stamping my free foot and shouting loudly the whole way. One cannot be too careful. I reach the composting center physically unscathed. Once parked, I fall out of the car again. Now I'm politely begging a city worker to help me remove the rodent that's in my car. He smiles. I want to hit him but refrain. He agrees to help me and sets to work, stooping to check under the seats. He finds nothing... He says: "I think it's gone Ma'am"... Unconvinced, I ask for a long stick. I take the stick and start madly poking at the dark voids in the car. Nothing. I resign myself to the fact that I will have to get back in the car. And most probably there is a giant mouse hiding under my very seat ready to skitter up my pant leg at any moment. I shudder at the thought. "Can I keep the stick?" I plead before climbing in. "Sure," says the worker.

I get in. I drive to my sister's house, visit for a while, and drive all the way back home with my stick in hand.

I make it home in one piece.

The whole ordeal has me exhausted and it's barely lunchtime. I begin to question A.J.'s assertion that new experiences are a boon to well-being. I think it depends on the new experience in question. It really really really depends.

♥M

To The Drawing Board

In my last sketching post, I was lamenting my lack of drawing flair. See, I can draw. What I'm missing is my very own michele-type style. A few of your comments on that post were quite insightful I felt, and got me to thinking.

For instance, Catie suggested:

"Have you ever tried just adding a little colour? Like pink to the cheeks and nose. It is so playful and breathes life into an otherwise monotone drawing."

As you can see, I took your advice to heart Catie. I may have added somewhat more than "a little" colour though. Once I got started I couldn't stop myself. When it comes to colouring I turn into a giant kid: the more colour, the merrier... 

I also appreciated the advice Saraccino shared: 

"You are able to see beauty in stuff which is so normal, even trash. This view will give you special insight for sketching. Stop thinking and just enjoy it!"

I think you're right Saraccino. I do tend to overthink drawing. Part of the problem may be that I like to control every little pencil stroke. Letting go and relinquishing a teensy bit of control might be just what the doctor ordered eh?... I'll have to give it a shot.

Aneesah recalled a moment from her own experience. She wrote:

"I've struggled with style since forever. I've been told by a lecturer that I'm too literal... I think that means I don't use my right brain enough. There isn't enough of me in the artwork, more needs to go in the process." 

She also added wisely:

"Style takes time and experimentation."

Wow, it's like that lecturer was speaking directly to me from across the chasm of time... The idea of "being too literal" and putting "more of me" into the drawing really struck a chord. You're so right Aneesah. If I'm just reproducing what's already there (as I've done with the elephant photo above) then maybe I'm investing too little of myself in the work. Perhaps what I could try instead is to practice interpreting the photo rather than just reproducing it verbatim. Then I might see more of myself in it. I might even begin to develop my own style... Hmm, what an intriguing concept!

Thanks for your thoughtful and considerate comments. I do appreciate every one, and try to learn from them whenever possible.

Have yourself a beautiful day.

♥M

Pastel Marshmallows

The boy is fascinated with fires as little boys typically are. And he loves marshmallows, though not the cooked kind. But that fact doesn't stop him from "toast-roasting" them for everyone else, whenever there is a campfire or a bonfire.

This is a recent pastel drawing of the boy eating an un-toast-roasted marshmallow while keeping warm by his grandparents turkish firepit... mmm... I'm hungry!