Cold Spaghetti

1. Kate.

2. Pigtails.

(and a few more words… just ’cause.)

I cannot wait to have Photoshop and Aperture at my fingertips once again.  Must. Ignore. Photo. Problems.  For now.

In the meanwhile, I created my own problems with light and dark.

I worked on it in pieces over the past few days… while the kids ate lunch, watching Will and Paul play Lego Indiana Jones, during naptimes.  The photo above is the only ‘in process’ photo I have, unless someone looks at the ‘finished?’ product below and tells me that something about it totally sucks.  I had to throw it in a frame, quickly, because I was starting to get the point where I could over-do and ruin it completely.

Here’s the scanned photo the sketch was based on:

Here’s my interpretation:

So far, only one person (rhymes with ‘other’) who has seen it that has found problems with it.  No, no, not my brother the fantastic artist (actually, he pointed out some strengths and gave tips).  Drawing my own kids was fun, but hard… challenges abounded with this one.  But, most everyone else seems to like it.  Ultimately, I really enjoyed making it.  I forgot how much of a difference it makes in my life.

I wonder if I could combine portrait drawing into photography packages?

Kate, the 30-month old talking flow chart, on the topic of Santa Claus.

“Where’s Santa Claus?”

“He’s at the North Pole.”

“Why?”

“It’s where he lives.”

“He’s in his house.”

“Yes, he’s in his house.”

“He’s not in my house.”

“No, he’s not in our house.”

“He’s not in my bed.” *

“No, he’s not in your bed.”

“He’s not in my closet.” **

“No, he’s not in your closet.”

“He’s at his house.”

“Yes, at his house, at the North Pole.”

“At the North Pole.”

—

* I wonder if us singing “You Better Watch Out” and the whole thing about ‘he sees you when you’re sleeping’ helped develop this line of possibility?

** This also has been brought up in our household before.  When we first told Will about Santa, he used to cry out at night because Santa was in his closet.

—

Here is more from Kate on the subject of Santa, speaking during dinner (Shepherd’s Pie and Tomato & Edamame Salad*) last night.

Kate discusses Santa Claus from Cold Spaghetti on Vimeo.

* It feels important to say this only to explain the colorful mass of mush sitting on the plate in front of her.

“I want to write books and make them all myself.  That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

So announces Will toward the end of the trip back from Mobile.  He makes the declaration while producing the Ipod touch, where he has been typing for a solid hour… or so it seems.  It did not read like Hamlet, but I’m willing to bet that three monkeys with typewriters could have re-produced it.

“That’s great, Will” we said.  Paul added that I could help him write and make illustrations, that I was in to that sort of thing.

“Yes, Will,” I added, “I’ve kind of been writing a book online for the past 4 years… on The Blog.”

“I’ve been writing a long time, too, Mommy.  Since we left Granna and PapPap’s house… a REALLY long time.”

—

When we got home, Will asked to start his book.  This is what he wrote and drew.

Not to be left out of the fun, Kate made a picture, too:

I especially like when she talks about Wesley and Clare — because she’s wearing PJ’s that we gave to Clare (when she turned 1?). When she out grew them, she sent them to Kate to wear.

Kate is home sick. No real fever, or at least none that doesn’t instantly respond to Ibuprofen, but she is definitely not herself. Content to lay on Mommy’s bed watching Charlie Brown blow the big Spelling Bee… over and over again… which is, without doubt, not the normal child who goes to 11.

Even she seems confused about how she feels and what she wants to do. This short exchange, recorded 15 minutes ago, is the perfect example:

14nov2008_katewantstoboogie

Question: What is with Kate’s funny, scrunched up smile for the camera?

Answer: I have no idea.

(That’s me and my Mom, Easter 1978 — I’m almost 2 1/2, it’s a few months before my brother was born.)

2008_10_10-katesingsfreirejacques (mp3)

This is very typical dinner conversation in our household. Kate chatters on and on about something, Will sweetly pipes up and does exactly what we ask of Kate, Kate tries her best to do the same (sounding like she’s providing back-up for Ozzy Osbourne), and then forgets what she is doing and starts talking about climbing mountains and eating monkeys.

Our Dynamic Duo. A little blurry, but you’ll get the idea…

Baby Bite Art.

Kate’s attempts at apple-eating.

Is it Art: playing with the positive and negative space of ordinary objects, testing our comfort with smooth edges and defined space?  Or, a Political Statement: exploring waste and the ease with which we throw away perfectly good, nutritional, and wholesome parts that sit right in front of us?

The Artist’s Collection of Bite Art currently includes 2 apples and 1 pear (not photographed).  The banana did not last.