Me and Keri
I'm slowly learning some of the things Keri Smith mentioned:
You don't need to know the outcome in order to start something.
Sketches are alive; often the "finished" piece is not so alive.
Targeting an audience/trying to please friends can be a creative death.
Some Ideas from Ronnie del Carmen on Storytelling):
It's nearly impossible to tell yourself a story. I didn't like hearing this; but something about it rang true, especially after we tried this:
It's interesting what can "come out" when you're called upon to tell somebody a story without being prepared. In our meeting we were asked to turn to the person on our right and in one minute to tell them about a time when we were lost. Amazing stories came out of this–bookworthy stories.
Leonard Marcus on Children's Books:
I loved the thought he had about the importance of HOME in a person's/creature's life. The idea of being centered before you start out on the adventures of life.
For an amazing Mark Todd animation treat, turn on your sound and go here immediately. Skip the intro and go straight to guide to being a confident human at the bottom left.
The street where we lived
I had forgotten that New York City smell that blasts out of the sidewalk grates. Is it from the subway? The sewer? I loved smelling it again.
Separated at Birth
Do you see any resemblance? On Friday evening we walked over to the waterfront to see the fireworks. We stopped off at the Comfort Diner, where they have "Thanksgiving Every Day." There we had a delicious turkey dinner with all the trimmings on the 4th of July. That's Sal, on the right, checking her email while waiting on the turkey. On Saturday evening we walked to the Rockefeller Center and passed the American Girl Headquarters. That's Kit on the left, a clever, resourceful girl facing the Great Depression with spirit and determination.
The Big Party
Don't ever invite me to a party. I want to fit in and have fun, but I can't seem to do both at the same time. Here's what happened last night. Soon as I entered the Grand Ballroom, I spotted James Yang. I walked straight up to him and punched him in the face.*
After he recovered, he introduced me to his wife. I smiled and in an attempt to be friendly I asked her if she were using Preparation H. She seemed shocked and others within earshot seemed somewhat surprised, too.**
*I had a good reason.
**I had gone out and bought some Preparation H after reading this.
I slunk away soon as I could and sat down by Cheryl. Sally offered to take our picture together. I set my glass of red wine down on the little table and put my arm around Cheryl's shoulder. Sally stood in front of us and tried in vain to push the button on my camera.
After my grin had frozen, I jumped up to assist Sal. My elbow hit my wine glass, soaking the guy sitting to the side of me. Humiliated, I ran for napkins. I was happy I wasn't wearing a name tag. I made my way back and found that Cheryl had removed the tablecloth. I picked it up and carried the dripping red thing over to a tray by the wall.
I ran smack into Steven Guarnaccia, who just looked down his nose at me. Then I waved at Robert Zimmerman. But when I tried to engage him in conversation, he pretended to be in deep conversation with a balloon.
I got rid of the tablecloth and decided to loiter at the bar instead of returning to the table. Cheryl and Sal joined me. When I ordered a club soda, they asked why club soda. I said I thought I may have had enough wine. They were appalled. They insisted that it wasn't my elbow that had knocked the glass of wine over–that the guy who had been sitting beside me had knocked it over. That's why I like Cheryl and Sal so much.
Cheryl and Me (Reenactment)
But once I had my club soda in hand, I sent myself back up to my room. And as I entered the elevator I heard the Grand Ballroom sigh with relief.
Goodbye Hotel, Goodbye Magnificent Jean Tuttle
