Chameleons, Orcas, Zombies, Dreamworks, Rooftops, and Mothers' Day

Our visit to Providence was way more than we'd anticipated. I'll sum it up in this post as best I can, but it involved all of the things listed in the title of this post, including Mothers' Day. (Every time I write "Mothers' Day" I have to check myself so that I don't end up as the target of one of our favorite websites, apostropheabuse.com, which by the way just yesterday posted one of my submissions from our trip to Venice Beach and, no, that's not a shameless plug.)

Since we're about at the end of her/our four year Providence adventure, I couldn't help but be flooded with memories of the beginning of said adventure - when Claire and I first set foot in the city and started looking at the school. She walked into the RISD Nature Lab and exclaimed, "Did they do this just for me?" She had found her home. 

We went back there to see Kate and Andrew who were working there (and because we love it almost as much as Claire does). They showed us an adorable baby snake, horrifying beetles, albino frogs, sweet turtles, and one ornery chameleon named Prince Oprah. Kate held out a mealworm with her long tweezers and Prince O snapped it up with his extra long tongue.

While Rob bonded with the bear, and I with the chameleon, Emily bonded with the snake.

And apparently Kate and Andrew had bonded with each other, as was evidenced by this sign (which is supposed to tell students where the "monitors" - i.e. lab workers - are at the moment.)

One of our favorite parts of visiting colleges is getting to sit in on classes. In a stroke of wonderful timing, we were able to sit in on a "character creation" class taught by Shanth Enjeti. The assignment was to create two characters - a protagonist and an antagonist. They posted their designs on the wall and Shanth explained what worked and what didn't work. Before he started, we looked at all the work and loved every bit. After hearing Shanth, we had to agree with his assessment. Claire's protagonist was a baby orca in a parka and the antagonist was a tall somewhat menacing-looking seal. 

Later we went to a party on the top of one of the older buildings in town. It had been converted into loft apartments, but the top was a garden and wonderful view. We all were ready to hand over the first month's rent to reserve a space.

The party was for a collaboration between a local production company, StoryHat, and the RISD illustration department. Twelve students were chosen to brainstorm and develop characters for an animated movie. Claire had signed a non-disclosure agreement so she couldn't tell us anything about the project. But at the party, the founder of StoryHat (below) told us that one of Claire's drawings was currently in a presentation to Dreamworks, which felt remarkably satisfying and, as Rob calls it, "circle of life-ish." (On a side note, Rob met another man from StoryHat, Michael Corrente, who directed five movies shot by our good friend, Richard Crudo. Small world.)

Andrew, Kate, and Em make a Claire sandwich.

Below (in his perpetual orange sweatshirt) is another of her favorite professors, Nick Jainschigg. (His website makes strangely intriguing sounds.) I love his A-Painting-A-Day idea and had previously bought one of his pear paintings. Nick was the one who had to buy two sets of Claire's tiles on CafePress. When asked why two he said, "What if I break one?"  Click here for a link to the tiles. (Good news is that she's currently selling them at her cost. But please note that they're a little on the PG-13 side...)

Next stop, Andrew's dorm room where he showed us his short film, Working Stiffs, which is a mockumentary about zombies. Then he showed us a photo of a zombie that he created. Turns out the zombie was Claire. None of us recognized her. Below, he's showing how he made a silicone mold of her everyday ear so he could make her a set of pointy-droopy zombie ears.

And below is normal Claire beside the image of pointy-droopy-eared zombie Claire. (Click on zombie Claire image to enlarge to scary proportions.) I vastly prefer normal Claire.

The last day of the trip was Mothers' Day. In Providence with daughters and Rob. Perfection.

The "Man Wall" and other things found in Claire's dorm room

This is the "Man Wall" that greets one upon entering Claire's dorm suite. It has certainly grown more comprehensive since the beginning of the year and represents all the men whom the dorm mates deem worthy of their attention. The latest addition is a photo of Robert Morse from "How to Succeed in Business" so they're nothing if not versatile in their taste.

Above is Claire's half of the room, complete with Claire.  Below is Kelly's half, complete with a partially completed self portrait.

This being the end of the year and the end of the four years, there was lots o' art to show us. Below is part of her series of "18th Century Subversive Toile" work which she has made into greeting cards, invitations, tiles, and paper plates and cups. 

Here are some results of her fabric design class.

And we bid a fond farewell (for today) to the dorm room. More to come....

Claire and friends have a clue...

Claire and her roommates Kelly and Kate, along with friends Beth, Elisa, Molly, and Eloise, had the opening of their senior art show last night.  The poster they made to advertise the show was a re-creation of advertising for the game "Clue." It was perfect. They also had individual portraits of themselves in character. Good poster = lots of show attendees.

The show ranged from wild animal portraits, to large scale self portraits, to jewelry, to stuffed animals, to stuffed corsets, to concept designs for a horror movie, to animated character designs. It warmed our hearts to see so much skill and imagination and camaraderie and creativity and beauty all packed into one room and made me feel like it's a great time to be a young woman today.

Claire and Em with Claire's new business card.

"And over here to my right are some tapirs..."

Claire's pen and ink drawings, fabric designs, and steam-punk corset. She printed the corset fabric herself, complete with rivets and portholes and rust. It looks like a submarine corset. It's an understatement (no pun intended) to say you've never seen anything like it...

Backside of corset.

Older woman looking at Claire's nekkid drawings... Eek!

Em and her Revolutionary War reenactor friend, Will, who is working on his PhD at Brown University.  His field of study, not surprisingly, is "Discipline in the 18th century British Army." 

More drawings and paintings.  I love that Maribou Stork....

Claire and friend Maddy Carr

I just love this photo...

Em and me standing right in front of the "18th Century Subversive Toile" tiles (her description, not mine) that I was hoping would be in the photograph. Arggh.  They're available for purchase on CafePress and when her professor found that out, he left to order some!

Rob and me with Deatheater mask and corset. (Not to be worn at the same time.)

I just realized I have no photos of Hummels all together that evening. Hmmm. Probably should ask Claire to work something up in Photoshop. I don't have a clue...

Kissed by LeVar

Yesterday was the screening for the LeVar Burton film, "Reach For Me." Due to technical difficulties beyond his control, Rob got to go down to the Landmark Theater at 11:30 Sunday night to make sure everything downloaded ok and then had to screen it so that they were absolutely positive that it downloaded ok.  He got home at 4:30 am. This is the first film - ever - to be 4K from start to finish, so on that account and to the technical people in the film world, this was a pretty big deal and, apparently, worth staying up most the night for.  

I arrived for the reception Monday night and Rob was busy chatting up a reporter so I talked with Dan Rosen the Dalsa wizard, and Tony Rastatter, one of Rob's employees at Warner Bros. I love that we have an alternate connections with Tony. Our first house was across the street from Tony's mother. She was the woman with the blue fairytale cottage who used to invite the girls and I over for tea parties. Fifteen years after we'd moved away, we went to Tony's birthday party at a bowling alley and he introduces us to "mom." We looked at mom. Mom looked at us. We don't need an introduction. We go way back. Too cool.

Dan brought LeVar over to meet me and LeVar exclaimed, "Annie Hummel!" and gave me a kiss on both cheeks. When I told him I'd heard that he'd kissed my husband a few days ago (which he did) he said, "I will kiss every Hummel that I ever meet from now on!  I'm naming my next child, 'Hummel'!  I love your husband!" Well, that kind of spousal report card is hard to beat.

Turns out, a lot of people there loved 4K and the Dalsa camera and LeVar's kiss turned out to be the beginning of a big 4K/Dalsa/Sony lovefest. They had a panel afterwards, moderated by Carolyn Giardina of the Hollywood Reporter, who is the only person that reports consistently and knowledgeably on the technical side of film. It was all about Origin cameras, Codex recorders, LTO-3 tape, with a little Baselight 8 and Sony 4k SRXR-220 thrown in. In other words, well, it was all in other words.  

When we left the auditorium, everyone was handed a "Cinco de Mayo" tequila sample for the road which seemed perhaps a questionable decision to say the least. This was followed by Dan, Rob, and I leaving the projectionist booth and noticing the sign on the INSIDE of the door which reads: "No alcoholic beverages beyond this point." In other words, keep the alcohol inside the projection booth. This explains a lot. 

It was a long but satisfying evening. I left clutching my tequila sample, happy and very very proud of Rob. As my dad would say, my buttons were bursting. 

Changing of the Guard

Emily opts for Plan A

Just when Emily was working on "Plan B" then out of the blue came "Plan A" again. Just when she'd given up on the idea of grad school for fall '08, a fat manila envelope arrived congratulating her on being accepted into the Masters program in Public History at American University in Washington DC. You can read more about it on her blog soon (see family/friend links on the right). The following is the information about the Public History Masters program, which, when you read it, fits Em to a tee. I think she's going to be happy with Plan A. Anything that mentions in the same breath, research, writing, teaching, museums, preservation, libraries, archives, archeology, and the Smithsonian, is bound to capture her heart...

MA Track in Public History: 

What is Public History?
Public History can be characterized as the many ways in which history is made and practiced in public forums. Now in its third decade as a field of study, public history offers students exciting career options that move the historian's traditional skills of researching, writing, and teaching beyond the classroom. Public historians most often work in one of four broad fields: museums, historic preservation and cultural resource management, libraries and archives, and digital and documentary media. In all of these areas, the mission of public historians is to document and interpret the past in collaboration with the public.

Why Study at American University?
The Department of History at American University has a deep commitment to public service. Many members of our faculty are public historians whose work blurs the lines between the academy and the public. American University also offers unique opportunities to study public history with professionals at some of the nation’s premier public institutions from the National Park Service and the National Trust to the Smithsonian Institution.

The History Department at American University acknowledges that public history is ultimately an interdisciplinary field, with connections to archeology, arts management, public policy, and media production, among others. We also understand that success in the field is built upon both traditional research skills as well as practical experience. With this in mind, the Department of History offers a flexible curriculum that allows students to shape the degree to best fit their interests. Our curriculum also fosters a balance between academic and professional experience and we encourage students to move outside the classroom through class projects, volunteer work, internships.

Where's Dribble?

I don't know why I think it's hard to find Dribble sometimes...  (click on photo to enlarge)

Happy May Day!

Eternal comforter

There are some things in life you didn't ask for. Things you didn't want. Things you don't care for aesthetically. That don't match the rest of your life. Sometimes a thing just shows up on your doorstep and you think you'll just stow it away in a nice box you found for it in the garage. After all, you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

This comforter was made by Rob's step-mother at least 20 years ago.  The crochet work is impeccable, but I've never been a big fan of candy corn colors (unless as candy corn) and I vastly prefer wool or cotton or something actually found in the natural world. This could only be considered of the natural world if you count petroleum products. 

No offense meant to my step-mother-in-law, who I adore, but I had no intention of letting it live in the house. Somehow, someway, it snuck its way in and hasn't left. It's comforted all of us here, at one time or another. Me, Rob, Em, Claire, their friends, and all the pups. I'm not sure but it may have even comforted one tortoise, Jasmine, after her swimming pool incident. 

And after twenty years of use and abuse, after thousands of washes, it looks... like... new. I think of all it's been through (including my continual mutterings about those *$#@! colors) and I think of all of us wrapped up in its candy-corn-zig-zag-ness, and it practically makes me weep with joy. This thing that I didn't want or didn't ask for has carefully, painstakingly won my hardened heart. It can stay. For now it's in the closet. Until someone needs comforting.

What we don't see

I realize I'm presenting no big news flash - that what we don't see is at least as important as what we do see (or think we see). Just when we're certain our yellow water balloon is exploding and water drops instantly scattering in every direction, we find out that actually something entirely different is happening. Right before our eyes. Silly us for thinking otherwise.

Enjoy this high-speed photography of a water balloon being popped (by a very enthusiastic Japanese man). 

New relationships and bigger tents (and penguins)

Claire gave me this bracelet for Christmas. The quote stamped into it reads, "forever hold your penguins dear." That's the title of an essay from a blog called 37days which has as its subtitle, "What would you be doing today if you only had 37 days to live?"  

When Claire gave me the bracelet, she also gave me a copy of the essay. However, in the post-Christmas clean-up, the essay was lost and I neglected to look it up online. Yesterday, in cleaning up the guest room for houseguest Robin's arrival, the essay appeared and I sat down to read.

One idea leaped off the page, cemented itself to my consciousness, and has thus far appeared to have taken up permanent residence. The idea is this: death ends a life, but it doesn't end a relationship. All that we need to do is to come to terms with the new relationship. We come to terms with a change. The relationship doesn't look or act like it did before. But it's there. And it hasn't lost any of its power to envelope and sustain and enlighten. That's all.

It's been now about couple of years since my dad passed away. And I chose to spend the day just like any other day. 

In the intervening years since the "new relationship" with dad began, there isn't a day in which I haven't been influenced by something he said or did. The relationship is as real and true and healthy as any in my life and shows no sign of losing strength. Everyone has a different take on these things (thank goodness) but for me, no need for memorials when the relationship is alive and well.

Rob's cousin, the aforementioned houseguest Robin, came to town primarily to see her son, Jason. Robin's husband, Bram, passed away unexpectedly several months after dad. Bram and Rob had adopted each other as brothers a long time ago, and Bram's mother was Rob's "Other Mother." (Rob always loved telling people that his brother married his cousin.) So, in the space of a few months Rob and I lost our dad and our brother. No matter whether or not these were strictly blood relations. They were part of the larger tent of family which welcomes all those that fit harmoniously (if snugly) inside.

Jason works for Rob's company, Dalsa. He got the job without telling Rob and the two spend their days passing in the Dalsa halls pretending like they're not related, even though everyone knows they are. Jason led us on a tour of the facility and all I could think of was how Bram's buttons must be bursting. Bram who counseled each and every one of his friends and family and friends of family about careers and goals and overcoming fears and moving forward. I'm learning that part of the new relationship with Bram is that we shoulder some of his work. Part of the new relationship with dad is that we shoulder some of his work. It's a lot of shouldering. 

Family is a strange thing. Once you hack away at the narrow labels and boundary lines, you open yourself up to some completely unexpected and all-encompassing things. Maybe that's why this day felt like any other day. It seems like the tent is big and bigger. Lately, besides houseguest Robin and her son Jason, the tent included: Sue Outcault who had been watching the dvd tribute about dad and invited us to come down to visit with her cousin Doug from Idaho; Rob and Daoud making plans for a big Afghan meal; me planning a visit with Nazhla during one of my next trips to DC; Uncle Paul and Rob and I interviewing dad's cousin about some family movies; sister-in-law Jenny and I planning our trip to Gettysburg; an email exchange with dad's friend Stuart Jenkins; a note - via my Uncle Dick - from another of dad's friends, Fred Andresen.  And that's just the last few weeks. The tent expands. And the relationships continue to grow.

"Forever hold your penguins dear" means that through all the penguins experienced in their frosty and harsh world, "...in the face of all the hardship and pain, progress continued - gorgeous baby chicks grew up to take the same long walks, to find partnership, to know relationship, to care for an egg through immeasurable odds... 

"And so do we humans... we persevere, even after the most anguished of losses, we continue, we put one foot in front of another for those long and sometimes lonely walks. And we arrive to find things changed." (37days)

Death ends a life. It doesn't end a relationship. It just can't.

Rob explains 3-D

For all you who want to know how hard it is to shoot a 3-D movie, fear not! Rob has written the perfect article for you. It's in the latest American Cinematographer Magazine and yes, once again, Christine my hairdresser will be proud. It's the top of my head that appears in the diagrams (see below and - thank you Christine - note no visible gray hair).  So if you've been wondering about appropriate interocular distance or stereoscopic depth cues and occluded objects, then follow the link below.




Click here for article.  (When the window comes up, click PREVIEW, and then click on CONTENTS at upper left of toolbar. You'll get a drop down menu and then you can select "3-D Cinematography.")

Giving pause

I guess technically Emily gave me "pause." Anyway, she was the one who gave me my pause mug. I love my mug. It's impossible to use a pause mug without periodically pausing.

The word "caesura" means a pause marking a rhythmic break in the flow of sound in a melody. While it's a bit of a stretch to define one's life as a melody, it seems to me that in music (as in life), it's not all about the notes. Maybe it's defined more by the pause. The nanosecond awe about what's just been experienced. The breathless expectation of what's ahead.

A pause may look to some like hesitation, inaction, or delay. Pause looks to me like a moment, a respite, a reprieve. Sometimes for me an entire universe is in a pause. Sometimes that's the pinhole through which I witness a humble peek at reality. Pause giving me pause.

Runner-up

I was cleaning out the garage today and ran across this from my short-lived modeling career at the William Adrian Agency in Pasadena. The agency's best known model at the time was Cheryl Tiegs. She was on the cover of Sports Illustrated three times, and was the subject of one of the most popular posters on the planet. I, on the other hand, was hustled off to a fashion show runway at the local nursing home where the residents voted me Miss Beverly Manor Runner-up, and handed me the plaque shown above. It was merely a sign for Beverly Manor with stick-on letters hastily applied. My stick-on status began to peel off after only 30 years. I'm pretty sure my best friend, Nancy, won the top prize. I'm still bitter.

I was scared to death of Mr. Adrian. I didn't need to be. I don't think he ever noticed me. I don't think he ever remembered my name even once. But one day my dad came to pick me up and Mr. Adrian spent fifteen minutes of class time trying to convince him to join the agency. Somehow he always remembered my dad's name.

I guess it wasn't a total waste. To this day, I still put on my face cream in the way he taught us. And I got a lovely plaque.