In the movies

So, a little while ago, you may recall, I decided it might be fun to experiment with stop-motion as a bespoke way of making music videos for my WFTB songs. My first effort, a learning experience, especially in terms of lighting (things musicians don't think about #12: Lighting) was for Diplodocus. Now, one much-better camera, and much-helpful partner later, we've tried again, this time with a bit more lighting detail (but still lots of mistakes), with Ankylosaur

But, here's the neat thing about that: This time, Charlie thought to put it up on Vimeo as well as youtube, something I wouldn't really have thought of, and, get this:

After three days, youtube has an impressive 550 views

and Vimeo has

3,606.
3,606?!

Vimeo! Vimeo. Where the quality is higher and there are no stupid comments. And, where, it turns out, people actually do go to watch videos. I had no idea. So, actually, ignore that link I put up there before, and use this one instead. And maybe spend some time exploring the vimeo-shores before you leave, because, really, it is a more lovely video environment, no?

And he sead the wollf.

Hello, gentle bloggers, and welcome to story time here on Not A Violin.

Curl up with our friends in the moss terrarium, and treat yourself to this tale, as typed on my 1930's Corona typewriter by the small boy brother of one of my students this afternoon.

"Untitled"
by small brother

once apen a time thear was a boy and he was vere avaeroos boy and his father sead do not go out fo the fens other wise you will get eantn by th woolf but he went out of the fens becant he was bord then he ran into the hous and he sead the wollf was after him so his father came out with his gun ttto kill the woolf but it was fack then he did it agen and his father did com ven it was the wollf so the boy did die!



The end.

Dino comic reredux

And now I'm back home. And there are a lot of reasons to be happy about that, too. One very big one is Charlie, and the dino-comics he makes:

To be away

And now I'm here, in Vermont.

At the Vermont Studio Center

Before I came here I knew this would be a Thing that would Change My Life. Which is silly, because everything does. But, what I meant, I guess, was that, good or bad, spending two weeks in a brand new place with brand new people would be an always, already thing.

And. Of course. It's the most wonderful thing. The new people I've met stretch and warm my heart. And the Alberta-familiar but not-quite landscape begs to be explored, run, walked, skiied, snow-shoed, each day. And my little studio draws ideas and creativity out of me, as does the fact that people all around are doing the same. Out my window, across the river, I can see the painters in their studios, next door Stuart works on poetry like careful gardening, upstairs Quincy transcribes interviews with an 80-year-old violin maker.

And we all meet and talk about it over dinner the VSC provides warm and vegetarian and new each night,

and then back to work. Excitedly and glad, always, already.

This Driving Family

Yes. I am in Vermont.

Yes. I flew into Toronto first.

And then my sister and I drove down the St. Lawrence, through this eastern mild-winter, from our country into our mixed-feelings neighbour. And we saw everything and we sang the whole time.

A photo essay, of sorts:

Goodbye Toronto, hello 401. Erin drives our rented cube-of-a-car:


Two different flavours of blue-fuel-non-water:


In rural Ontario, the fine print is key:


Bridge to America:


And suddenly, everything looks more Libertarian:


And we do tourist things:


Both of us do:


And visit a graveyard for frozen flavours:


And then it was time to part ways: