Showing posts with label homework. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homework. Show all posts

02 May 2012

Jackson Pollock was a smoker


Remember art class when you were in elementary school?  It usually started in the Fall with pressing leaves and crayon shavings between two pieces of waxed paper and ironing the mess to produce a colorful piece to add to the stack of stuff on the dining room table or perhaps to grace the front of the refrigerator. Things would then progress to cutting snowflakes in the Winter followed by red and pink heart art and pastel-colored 'Springtime' images. Some adventurous teachers might allow you to make paintings using string and toothbrushes dipped in paint and then dragged or splattered across a sheet of paper.

Things are different for my kids.

Starting in 3rd grade, my kids' school gives them 'real' art class once a week. It is taught in french, and they explore art movements and famous artists as well as finding their own artistic voice using a variety of media. The other day Baby X came home from school with a note from her art teacher. The fourth graders have an assignment – create a diorama showing an artist is his or her milieu.

I remembered when Big G had this assignment. He chose to depict Michelangelo painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It was rad. Someday I'll dig it out of the garage and post a picture of it. I almost suggested we just 'recycle' it :P  But then the Good Mommy spoke up and asked Baby X what she would like to do. She was at a loss, so we discussed a number of options... Monet in his garden with the Japanese bridge and some waterlilies, VanGogh in his room, Frida Kahlo and the Flying Bed... just kidding about that last one...it's a little heavy for a 10-year old to try and fit in a shoebox.

Not sure why it popped out of my mouth, perhaps it was because none of the other dozen or so options were appealing to her, but I blurted out...

Hey, you could do Jackson Pollock and have him surrounded by empty liquor bottles in his barn with a big painting on the floor!

And she asked me...


So we watched this video together...


And looked at various examples of his art...


And she was hooked. And insistent...

We need to make sure he's smoking, mom.

Here's the outcome...she did an amazing job...

Barn in the background, cans of paint all over, paint-splattered boots, knocked-over liquor bottles...


...and a cigarette.



Did you ever have to make a diorama when you were in school? Do you remember what it was of?
– I made one that had something to do with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders. I can't for the life of me remember what the heck it had to do with anything!

Have you seen the movie about Jackson Pollock starring Ed Harris as the artist and Marcia Gay Harden as his artist wife, Lee Krasner?
– Great movie. Highly recommend. Very troubled dude.

02 October 2011

Homework battles of a different sort...

I know, I know...

I'm super lucky to have a kid who will even do homework on the weekend (with a minimum of threats coaxing), but...

I just want to know how this makes sense as a homework-doing location?



It's the doorway between the kitchen/family room and the rest of the house. It is probably the most-traveled threshold in the place. And Big G decided it would be the most comfortable, most reasonable spot in which to do his Chinese homework. Yes... Chinese. And while he likes challenges of the intellectual kind and may be very smart, little dude has zero common sense about most other things in life.

Like where is a good place to do homework.

Hence his awesome spot... viewed now from the other side... I did have to mince around and step over him to get here.



He and I went back and forth for too long on this. I should have known better. In the end I just walked away, saying, "Okay... but if someone steps on you or pisses you off because you are in their way, I don't want to hear about it."

And mostly because I didn't get to run yesterday or last night and I am going nuts, I let this happen...


I swear to you... this was not staged.

You should have heard the screaming.

I cannot wait until my husband comes back from his camping trip. 

Can.

Not.

Wait.

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