A Silent Story

 

Anyone who has ever meet me knows I love to talk with my hands.  When a hard of hearing friend encouraged me to learn American Sign Language I decided to check it out.  ASL is a picture language.  Can you think of a better fit for an artist?

 

For the first time I had an opportunity present my book to a class of deaf and hard of hearing students.  Some students are hearing but have deaf parents so ASL is their first language.  (These teachers work hard!)  I wouldn't be reading my book like I normally do with a hearing class,

I would BE the book.

 

As you can see in the photo my book is transferred to the screen behind me.  So they can easily see the art from the book and easily see me as I act out the story. I became the cows chewing their cud as Signore Greve and Celli pedaled through Italy.  I stomped like an elephant and swung my trunk as they coasted through Africa.  I became Greve as he ate his lunch under a

 Chinese pagoda and Celli as he begged for a bite.

 

It's true, you have to be willing to be silly. Making faces is required and appreciated.  If you worry about how you might look you will miss the beauty of this language.  When I was swinging from vine to vine like a monkey several kids joined me.  Who cares what

you look like with that kind of payoff!

 

This class is focusing on transportation so we had a fun discussion after the book presentation about travel.  One boy loved trains, complete with a Thomas the train shirt, so we talked about train travel.  One little girl had been on a plane to California so we talked about flying.

 

I am thrilled that I was able to combine my art with my ASL.  Art is all about telling a story with a picture, just like American Sign Language.  Being able to share my story with a group of eager faces is always a joy.  But sharing it in their language was even better!

Adventure is always scary

I was waiting in line at the post office the other day.  I watched a young woman get a huge package, an expected huge package.  She was clearly excited.  Just as I thought it she said it, " How am I going to get this home?"  I had seen her ride in on her bicycle and the box was not a 'tuck under your arm' kind of package.  I offered her and her huge box (a surprise love package from home) a ride to her apartment.

This adventurer had moved to Alaska to finish up her schooling. She wanted to do something different before the cogs of adult life started grinding away.  She was still wild eyed and a bit unsure about the life Alaska brings.  But she had hiked a mountain peak and couldn't not believe she had done something so amazing and so beautiful. 

Adventure is always scary.  Big scary or small scary there is always a disclaimer that comes with something new.  Take this watercolor of a young wolf pup.  I was hired to illustrate another author's children's book.  He wanted watercolor as the medium.  Period.  I reminded him my speciality is oil.  He picked up my first illustration job, a book called "Super Sprouts", and said, "This is watercolor right?"

Curses! He had me.  I could see by the manuscript that watercolor was the right fit but taking on a job with detail watercolor was scary!  Yes, my focus in college was watercolor but I am sad to say that was MANY years ago.  Do I bail on a new, challenging adventure?  Yell FIRE and head for the exit?

I have gone through a lot of watercolor paper but I am finally in the groove.  I am really enjoying myself too.  Being at my drawing table instead of an easel feels good.  Finding those techniques learned long ago can only make me a better artist.

As Signore Greve would tell you, adventure never disappoints.  Maybe it only makes for a great,ridiculous story of disaster with friends and a bottle of wine but who doesn't love a great, ridiculous disaster story?  If your caller i.d. tells you adventure is calling be sure to answer, even it is with a hesitant hello.

Ode to Trees

 

I am an unabashed, proud tree hugger.  Seriously, there is a cottonwood tree on one of Ginzee and my walk routes that I hug regularly.  It gives a great hug back too.  Never succumbs to one of those tee-pee hugs ( I really don't want to do this but feel obligated) or the worse the broom handle hug ( it is hideous to be this close to you but I will endure it).  A tree is always happy to give and receive a hug.

I love to paint trees and have a hard time not putting one of the fabulous Italian cypress trees in the background of every Greve painting.  The acacia's of Africa...be still my heart.  And the graphic design of a birch tree....don't get me started!

You can make them any color, any shape leaf and they are still appealing.  But here is the heart break.

I won't get tinto the details because it is just plain upsetting.  And by upsetting I mean makes my stomach hurt and makes my heart beat fast.  Someone in our neighborhood decided that the spring puddle on the road leading into our spot on earth needed to go.  It was SOOOOOO inconvenient that every tree needed to be cut down so the road could be moved over several feet.  Hundreds of towering spruce, hundreds of ancient birch were mowed down in one afternoon. 

No one wanted this except of handful who apparently held the power, who have some unimaginable hidden agenda.  Petitions were signed, the newspaper was contacted but the person with the most power wins and the trees lost.  No longer will I gasp in wonder when I turn into my little part of the world to the trees thick with hoarfrost.  No more baby moose welcoming me home as they munch on their earthy buffet.  I will now gasp in horror at the scarred earth where a forest use to stand.

You really should hug a tree today.