Formica shades of gray

Walking shoe and Formica chips

Rooting around in a disorganized teacher box in search of a piggy finger puppet I find a cache of Formica samples circa 1965. Give myself  The Talking To where I insist that something I haven't needed or even known existed should be thrown out in the interest of leaving less mess for my kids should I happen to die. Then I talk back to myself and whine.

I fail to put myself in Time Out.  Instead I reach a compromise whereby I keep the gray samples since they are relevant to an ongoing discussion, and chuck the others in the dumpster.

The Formica samples provided some further names for gray:

Bunny grays

haze
platinum
seagull
stardust
white kid leather

Newport, Oregon beach in December

ninja
orchid
optix
graceful oak
ice
surf




Just getting warmed up to the challenge plus inspired by Formica, I add these shade suggestions:

Very large sauerkraut crock

crock
tomato cage
bubble wrap
mystery meat
Duct tape
mockingbird
junco
freezer burn

Hairstreak butterfly

window screens
retro diner
comfy sweats
nap-time tantrum
no bars of service
mirror
shining armor
flashlight batteries
Velcro
wasp nest

Rock and roll is here to stay

fan oscillations
typewriter ribbon
Tut's tomb
tar pit
rocks
aspen bark
tumbleweed
windmill

Remote grays

Miss Haversham
sorry old guys' nasty undershirts
Brillo
air quality alert
technology
obituary
socket set

VCR gray

coming down with something
paper shredder
cable service outage
coin collection
dog-eared textbook

Hindenburg
tax return
charm bracelet
armadillo
clean the grill

Scared of the basement gray

furnace filter
tinted window
dryer lint
cafeteria fork
Mt. St. Helen's
required reading
sensible shoes
emery board
Dragnet
stink bug

Pale bucket gray

lichen
safe deposit box
pewter
tarnished
Edward R. Murrow
toad
cream of mushroom soup
mercury

Lichen or not

but fear itself
jammed stapler
fish scales
snowed-in

teen car oil spot
utensil
Stonehenge

Cozy afghan knit sofa snoozy gray

AV club
pencil shavings
galvanized bucket
pocket protector

dried Elmer's
firework snakes
desert lizard

toenail fungus

Fritzi's wastebasket

aging Tupperware
sink caulk
laundromat
padlock
snowplow
wet mitten
small kitten


© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Choreographing a swallowtail ballet

Inspiration plus perspiration plus going where angels fear to tread into the thistle meadow in search of the dramatic black swallowtail photograph.  The butterfly always one more giant prickly weed beyond the range of the sun-dazed photographer with her tiny camera. Digital click click click zoom point zoom out of focus tangled on thorns wondering about snakes click click swing zoom. Percussion mostly.  Vertical stripes pink black glaring white yellow greens.  A Seventies disco floor flashing backdrop. Exaggerated prickly prancing silhouetted photographer sharp shadow dancing spiky.

Corps de ballet in pink tutus.  Male corp in shades of green-- vertically striped tights. Photographer frames shots larger and smaller circles. Lighting changes from soft to stark contrast.

Floor a glowing pink light projection.  Back a bokeh of greens and bright whites. Dancers in yellow leotards and tights with black markings, orange and blue spots on the floor.  Legs open close angle point pivot from floor. Small shifts to other pink circles of light.

Solo.  Black swallowtail prince.  Slightly battered.  Short movements between vertical green translucent banners.  Sense of confinement.  Needing nourishment.  Corps returns in front with windy shielding and frustrated photographer.

Sphinx moth interlude.  Low to floor. Two moths with three fading thistle flower dancers.  Hovering with strobe.  Rosy hues and browns.

Color invert dance.  Black light effect.  Sharp wire sculpture wings with pearls and jewels.  Neon edges glowing.  Sphinx moths, dragonflies, damselflies, hornworms, wheelbugs, tiger beetles, orb spiders, weevil, caterpillars, praying mantis.  Grand, triumphant, dark. Sousa meets Pink Floyd.

Brown.  Roly-polies.  Millipedes. Snails--how to leave a sparkling silver slime trail??  Worms slightly pink by comparison. Cicadas. Dark background and floor.

Grand finale starring fabulous black swallowtail male in dances with strong, leaping yellow swallowtail female.  Occasional entrances of small groups of female yellow swallowtails. Prolonged threesome frolic with black swallowtail and two yellows.  Exit into dark woods.

Finale--Black swallowtail emerges from shadows and flies weightlessly toward the glittering crystal sunlight on the creek.  Ode to Joy?

© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Inside the patio anole popper

It's been a frenetic leaping lizard weekend on the patio. Sometimes there was so much leaping and shaking that the garden seemed like a corn popper. The anoles still love to hide behind the clay masks hanging on the fence. Now they even walk across the cork bridge I made for them last year. At one point I looked out the window and counted ten lizards.

There are only two anoles in the bunch that I can identify as individuals. The Big Frijole who leaps from the solar lamp has a distinctive black tail tip. My hero is not really a big lizard, as some on the fence are at least twice as large.

Then there is Stubby. He's a bit bigger than the Big Frijole, but his tail broke off. I wonder how it was lost, and hope it grows back quick. Usually an anole's tail is longer than the rest of its body, but Stubby's is only a half inch long now. He's having an awful time trying to climb up the sedum and brussels sprout plants to get to the scrumptious cabbage caterpillars. He keeps sliding down and falling off. Guess I always thought of tails as fashion accessories, but Stubby's lost tail clearly had a survival role in his balance and agility.

The Texas Parks and Wildlife magazine's May issue has information about anoles.



One anole went leaping about on the daisies until it finally landed on the black wrought-iron garden hook for my birdfeeder. Anoles and chameleons don't really change color to match their surroundings. I keep reading that these lizards change color because they are angry, tired, sick, too hot, or too cold. It was a hot muggy day, and the lizard on the wrought iron was upset about another anole on a plant nearby. Still, this was the first time I've seen one turn dark reddish black.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Domino Boy and Dot Girl Save Dallas

Don't know what I was thinking when I decided the preschoolers could make superheroes out of dominoes. Inspiration is like that. It's difficult to say where ideas arise, and how long they've simmered. Found two incomplete sets of dominoes in a box. Added a visit to the Bent Objects blog. Turned in a vague plan for six weeks of art based on one illusive idea.

Adding to the mix, the kids started playing Duck Duck Goose on the playground. It is hilarious watching the cogs turn as the preschoolers grasp the rules and highly advanced strategy of Duck Duck Goose.

My dictionary says the plural of domino can be either dominoes or dominos:



Today we built a set for our downtown Big D photo shoot with the domino superheroes to the rescue. Our city set is like a skyscraper puppet theater. The end result won't be a movie, but probably a class scrapbook for parents to see on conference day, and then for the school library.



Next week we'll be choreographing some downtown dancing worthy of the Ed Sullivan Show and a little bit of Gene Kelly with umbrellas. Now if only our dynamic dot dudes could really save downtown Dallas by resolving the convention hotel and Trinity River debates. Delivering a pizza would be nice, too.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Power of black and white

Must have prayed for a black and white answer within three days. My life has been all pixelated in shades of gray for too long. The answers weren't clear cut. I received three days in black and white. Maybe it was a bad idea to shake the Magic 8 Ball before asking the question.



Was fascinated by the hundreds of beautifully composed black and white photographic portraits of Andy Warhol on the first half of the PBS show "American Masters" late Wednesday evening. My thoughts turned to Whistler's mother, the Arrangement in Grey and Black. Sometimes life seems more like a disarrangement in grey and black. Form, order, and composition are difficult to see. Reminded of the Joseph Cornell films I saw at the DMA last year...

The Dallas Symphony Orchestra's program this weekend celebrated Shostakovich's centenary by piecing selections from his symphonies into an accompaniment for Sergei Eisenstein's famous 1925 silent movie, "Battleship Potemkin". With the musicians all in black and white, and the projected movie in grayscale, the effect was dramatic.



Arriving home quite late, I found a package on my doorstep. My cousin had sent a box of photos that once belonged to my great aunt Emma. The images of four generations, identified or unknown, faded or stark, led to another day of powerful black and white. Not owning a scanner, I photographed the photos with and without flash, often dappled by the late afternoon sun on my living room floor. I have just begun working through the collection. Perhaps my answer awaits within. Until then, some photos from my son conclude this post.

Art Varmint

"Miz Nancy," my serious seven-year-old student says in a slightly nervous whisper, "did you know there is something big, black, and furry under the paint shelf, AND IT'S MOVING?" Holy Orwellian moly! Please don't let it be a rat!!! Of course, it's not a rat, but what if it is a tarantula?

The student and I trade knowing looks. We've got to sneak up on the big, black, furry thing without alarming the rest of the class. My hot glue gun is of no use at this range, so I slide it back into my holster. We have to rely on our own grit and determination, as the telegraph wires have been cut. Armed with just a broom, I shut one eye tight, and get down on one knee. Geez, Louise! That furry moving thing is one big scary dusty blue feather blown about by the air conditioner. What a relief. I sweep it into the dustpan. The student breathes a sigh of relief. We wordlessly agree not to notify the press corps.

"Varmint" seems to be a variant of "vermin", not to be confused with "victuals" or "vittles". In my classroom it's not a good idea to eat anything that's been on the rug!

Triankles and Awfulgons

Shapes and cut-outs were the class subjects this week. We were looking at Lois Ehlert's brightly-colored book, Color Zoo, with it's layered cut-outs to inspire our creations. Things were going great with circles and squares. When the preschool students started talking about "triankles and awfulgons," I got the flying monkey heebie-jeebies.

Remember when the witch was squashed under the house, and only her striped-socked ankles stuck out? I get this "triankle" mental image of striped socks steam-rollered into perfect triangles.

There's no place like home. If you Google "wicked witch dead", you get a photo of Dick Cheney. Makes sense. Even if you happen to be in Kansas, Dick is one of the reasons I don't think we're in Kansas anymore. It's time to pay more attention to the man behind the curtain! Let's get this awfulgon and his flying monkey henchmen, too, Toto.

Basic Black

Saw this velvet shawl in a little shop, and it seemed to know I'd been in Nebraska recently. The sale tag said I could have it and not feel guilty.

The jewel-like blues and golds immediately brought Lincoln's First Plymouth Church and Sunken Garden to mind. The purple and red recalled Omaha's art deco Joslyn Art Museum, and the lovely afternoon spent there with my dad.

The shawl shimmered with the color of the Joslyn's Georgia pink marble. The original building was built in 1931. Foster and Partners designed the 1994 addition, and I was pleased with the way the two sections worked together. Foster and Partners designed the Witherspoon Opera House being built in the Dallas performing arts district.

The shawl's colors reminded me of the large sculptures by Dale Chihuly on display at either end of the Joslyn atrium. Dad and I had lunch in the atrium cafe under "Glowing Gemstone Polyvitro Chandelier," the Chihuly sculpture of blown plastic recently given by Suzanne and Walter Scott.

It would have been fun to share my bargain find with Mom. Her arrangement of thread spools shows her love of color and order.

This photo is a small section of the new pavillion dome at the Lincoln Sunken Garden. The garden was constructed during the Depression, and is listed as one of the “300 Best Gardens to Visit in the U.S. and Canada” in the National Geographic Guide to American’s Public Gardens. I was thrilled to see that recent renovations has not changed the feel of the garden.



The dome itself is truly of this time. It is constructed out of powder coated steel. Each of the 128 panels is custom designed and laser cut here in Lincoln. The images range from local architectural landmarks like First Plymouth and the Capitol building to a rising and setting sun, geese flying south and a crop duster. --Architect Jeff Chadwick



I will wear my new shawl to the opera next week. It's a very fine souvenir for a wonderful Nebraska visit.

Night vision

I've been doing an art project this week using the book, Night Driving, by John Coy. The picture book is too long for most kids under age five, but younger ones like to find circles and half circles in the illustrations. The story is about a boy and his dad driving to the mountains at night in the Fifties. Elementary school kids are intrigued, and go on to imagine other things you might see driving at night.

Materials:
Black construction paper 9x12", or 9x6" for little kids.
Stickers--white circles, silver stars, hole reinforcers, eye stickers, alphabet stickers.
White crayons.
Glue sticks.
Scissors.
Kinko copies of black and white patterned circles.*

Teach kids how to cut circles out of copies. Show them it's like driving a car. The scissor hand cuts right on the line/"highway" of the circle edge. The other hand turns the paper like a steering wheel.
The littlest kids (3) also walked/"drove" around the room using Chinet plates for steering wheels. We pretended it was getting dark, so we turned on our headlights and saw lots of bugs flying around the lights.
I love this owl that looks like Groucho Marx!
Older kids relate to playing alphabet games in the car. "A is Abraham Lincoln, B is Babe Ruth...", or "B is bridge...Y is yawn...Z is zero on the speedometer".

The kids cut out lots of circles and snip some of them into half circles. The half circles can be VW Beetles/"slug bugs", which look similar to the old-timey car in the illustrations. Half circles can also become the moon, the tummy of a mule deer, the arches under the bridge, a baseball cap, the wings on a beetle or moth, or a dome-style tent. The eye stickers can be the eyes of the deer, or you can go off on a UFO tangent.

Use the crayons to draw more details. One girl used circles to create a boombox for the campers in the tent. Another kindergartner correctly made all the constellations she knew (I was very impressed!). Kids made Cinderella's carriage out driving at night, igloos, skunks, raccoons, deer on roller blades, hibernating bears in caves, and some very Seussian aqueducts with hiding trolls.

*You have to go to Kinkos because this project will use up all your toner! Make photocopies of patterned papers--zebra prints, crossword puzzles, buttons, bubble wrap, want ads, snakeskin, etc. Cut out circles of various sizes from the black & white patterns tracing CDs, jar lids, etc. Glue cut out circles onto contrasting patterns, and assemble an 8.5x11" page of black/white circles of various patterns.

True Confessions

"Dull and repetitive" will never be used to describe my job or place of employment. You have to be crazy to work there. It's required. You also have to be a team player, and pitch in during any crisis.

Thankfully, I was totally engaged in teaching a tribe of curious six year olds when the restroom flooded this afternoon. We were merrily painting our clay dinosaur pencil-holders when someone flushed a large quantity of paper towels. A flooding toilet and a loud wet-vac are nearly as distracting as a cherry-picker crew working on the utility wires across the street, a thunderstorm power failure, or a wasp in the classroom. The rest of the staff from Kahuna on down had to stick their fingers in the dike while I just had to keep kids from wading in and "helping"!

The restroom crisis called to mind a Very Black Day in my childhood. I was about kindergarten age, and my brother was two and a half or three. We were in the bathroom, which was painted Chinese red by the former owners, and had blue linoleum. I don't know what we were supposed to be doing, but I suspect we didn't really grasp the concept of privacy. My brother had a toy boat made of metal that was the model for recent retro Restoration Hardware Christmas ornaments. Somehow the toy boat fell into the toilet. Whatever we were doing, we weren't supposed to be doing it. I freaked and decided to flush the toilet to get rid of the evidence.

My dad had to deal with this plumbing nightmare. I think he said both "dang" and "damn", and glared as he plunged. Who could blame him? I don't think I ever admitted my role as the flushee, so I would like to do that at this time. I sure hope the statute of limitations has passed.