I’m thrilled to death that my necklace made the front page this evening in this lovely treasury. Lower right corner, y’all! Click on the link to get there and nab it…it’s still for sale as of this posting! Thanks to Elan for the shoutout. Much needed. x
I woke up this morning to the sad news that Maurice Sendak had passed away. I knew this day was nigh – he’d been sick for some time – but it still hit me like a ton of bricks that one of my idols had died. I rarely feel true sadness when a celebrity dies, but I’ll admit, I started bawling at the news…just like I did when Fred Rogers passed away. For millions of us, Sendak was peripherally part of our home.
Maurice Sendak’s work has been woven into the fabric of our childhoods for at least three generations. His sweet-faced children and animals, his psychedelic dream worlds, his incredible mastery of pen and ink – he’s permeated our memories somehow. For most people, his book “Where The Wild Things Are” is his pièce de résistance, but for me, it’s his glorious, existential eulogy for his dear little dog, Jennie: “Higgelty Piggelty Pop.” That book, a deceptively simple fairy tale about a dog searching for more out of life, is one of the deepest and most moving children’s books ever written. As a child, I loved the fun drawings, the play between hyperrealism and fantasy; as an adult who had just lost her beloved grandfather, the book became a cornerstone in dealing with grief, which was the book’s purpose in the first place.
Some of my happiest memories are snuggling on the sofa with my parents, reading Sendak with them. I never knew much about the author until recently, when I discovered in delight what a crusty old man Sendak actually was. I loved finding that out about him. For me, it made his work all the more poignant.
One of my weirdest tales about Sendak happened in my college figure drawing class. We were given the classic assignment of “drawing from a master.” I was mad about pen and ink and only wanted to draw with it because it could bring out the heavy detail I wanted so badly; I couldn’t get those same effects from charcoal or pencil. I did study after study of Sendak’s work, trying to learn how he did his shading, etc. He was my hero-type in this field; he and James Montgomery Flagg. I immersed myself in Sendak’s drawings, getting lost in their labyrinth of pen strokes. I was proud to have chosen him, because he was such a personal choice. For my “master” recreation, I chose Max dancing around in the forest in “Where The Wild Things Are.” It was incredibly challenging and ambitious to recreate Max as best as I could. I spent hours on the drawing, and got it almost right. It was one of the proudest moments I ever had in art school.
My teacher ridiculed me for it. She said she expected me to pick something better than a cartoon.
A cartoon.
The incident had me so devastated I quit fine arts that very day, and switched to the integrative arts program with a director who knew why Sendak was important and why he was worthy of admiration. It was the best academic choice I ever made.
I never met Maurice Sendak, nor ever felt the need to. But he was the catalyst that steered me in the direction I wanted to be in, and I will forever be grateful. I hope he’s found Castle Yonder.
Here is one of the studies I made for that class.
Hey all! The second of my treasury collections made the front page tonight. Congratulations to everyone who got featured!
As a celebration, I’m offering a 15% discount with the code SPRINGCLEAN at checkout.
Whoop whoop! Well done, everyone! x
It’s been a very stressful couple of months at home. The other night, Harlan and I were trying to figure out what to do that evening that was fairly close to home but still fun.
“Well, there’s a Ludacris concert going on in about a half hour, we could go to that.”
That’s right. Ludacris was playing a free show about 2 miles from our apartment building, in the middle of an empty lot between the football and soccer stadiums. I said sure, let’s rock. At that point, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you a single Ludacris song off the top of my head, but I kept chanting “It’s Ludachristmas, everyone! Ludachristmas!”
For late April, it was effing cold outside. I had on a heavy wool sweater and was still freezing.
The concert started off fine until a circle of college girls decided to bump n’ grind obnoxiously. One kept knocking me to the side, and I finally had it and shoved her. It didn’t faze her, so I’m guessing they were pretty drunk. After their goofy friend decided to jump up and down and threatened to stomp on our feet, Harlan and I moved out of the glob of gazers and took a walk. It ended up being much more fun that way. Got a contact high from someone trying to smoke catnip (at least that’s what it smelled like, it certainly didn’t smell like pot…) Good times.
Anyway, I took some pictures of this blessed event. Certainly not my best work, but I had fun shooting them.
Alice Teeple at a Ludacris concert…about as ludicrous as it gets.
It’s been a while since I’ve made any short films (at least, on my own) so I made this at 4 AM the other night with some doll heads I had in my closet.
I photographed myself smoking. I love the way smoke looks on camera; the curliness of it, the misty feel. I got very lightheaded. Smoking was once considered beautiful until it was discovered to be deadly and now no one does it anymore. I like smoking once in a while. I never got addicted to it, but I love having a cigarette as a prop. It tastes really good with coffee. I don’t like it with beer.
These were all shot with my phone and edited in Pixlromatic. I shot them in my living room. The painting in the corner was done by my cousin Gilbert and was in my grandparents’ dining room for years.
http://www.facebook.com/v/10100189115572764
This was a collaborative art project between me, Rachael Simon, Melanie (?) and Peter Daniels done for Carlos and Chuck’s class years ago. This is the only surviving footage of it, but the headphones played recordings of digeridoos and ancient languages while you sat around the orange globe. We were really proud of this, then we tore it apart and destroyed it.
Some years ago, when I was messing around with animation and struggling to find sounds I wanted, I decided to mess around with making my own music.
I’ve only had limited training with music in high school chorus and an ill-fated couple of months as a trombone player (my arms were too short). I don’t know how to read music very well, but I do like to noodle around. I do have a decent ear for sound, because with animating things you have to get hyper in tune with rhythm and sound to match the pictures. So I got messing around with Garage Band and other soundmixing programs to create sounds for my own work.
The cover of “My Lovely Horse” was done in Patterson Building late one night when no one was in the building except a janitor who smelled like ‘Charlie’ perfume. I sang over a video clip I’d found from “Father Ted,” distorted the background sounds, added in a theremin, and blended it all together. It’s the only clip of my singing straight up without funny voices. I can sing alright, I just haven’t done it in so long I get shy about it.
The rest were all little songs I’d made for later possible video endeavors, but to date I’ve never used them except for “Devolution,” which was the closing theme for my college TV show. I thought it sounded like something from a sad drama where someone gets hit by a car or a kid gets measles, but later the dad of the kid finds out his soft side. I wasn’t sure what to do with all this, so I called my imaginary band “Some Guy and the Plural Nouns” because I couldn’t think of anything better.
My favorite is “The Machine,” which has lots of little clunky ploddy factory sounds and is the only one that feels complete. I can see pictures in my head when I hear it, but don’t know how to put it together yet. Maybe someday.
Anyway, if you want to hear my little songs, here they are.
When I was a little kid, my mom and dad (being completely broke) partly furnished our home with secondhand finds from estate auctions and yard sales. Yep, we had bookshelves made of cinder blocks and 2x4s. The stereo and records took precedent over our 13″ black and white TV (that could only clearly pick up CBS at night and a PBS affiliate in the day). I didn’t even know there were other channels until I went to school.
This is me in 1982, at Schnure’s Junk Yard in Hartleton, PA. It’s long gone – the house was gutted and renovated many years ago, after Mr. Schnure must have passed away or been put in a home…I have no idea. I don’t remember much about it, except that it had tables in the living room full of hardware, and there were some strange men there (one was old, the other a bit feeble-minded). I remember dingy muslin curtains, a stale odor, and a glorious pile of things outside to sift through. I do remember that raincoat quite clearly, and how it smelled like plastic.
I am grateful for the values my parents instilled in me, about how to be thrifty but selective; to reuse what’s there; to seek creativity in changing what exists.
I like this photo of myself. That contented smile returns whenever I’m sifting through little treasures at a flea market table, thinking about pretty things I can make or do.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m too wired; that those simple days of reading and listening to records have fallen behind my technological interests – my never-ending curiosity certainly gets piqued with instant finds, but I feel almost trapped in instant communication these days. I’m torn between wanting to slow down, and enjoying the convenience of instantaneousness.
I sometimes say to myself, “Put away the iPhone, Alice. You don’t need to know the back story to everything you read, the minute you read it.”
But there’s nothing stopping me from enjoying both. I would like to make it a priority to set aside a day or two each week to get back in tune with this happy little kid; to explore, to renew, and progress more holistically. It’s spring time: thirty years after this picture was taken. Hard to believe.
Howdy! Happy spring! Time to do some spring cleaning, right? Yes! I’m doing two giveaways right now, and if you’re looking for something funky or something modern, you might find something there.
The first is with Don’t Panic, a design blog. I’m giving away a pair of arrow earrings. Amy will choose a winner randomly next week for anyone who leaves their contact info!
Here’s a picture of the groovy earrings you can win. Click on the picture for a link to the contest at Don’t Panic!
And for giveaway contest #2, the prize is a fun read-through at Rowhouse 14, another great design blog. You can win this groovy cocktail ring that I created from an old earring!
Check it. I love this ring like whoa.
This milk glass mod masterpiece is yours if you follow the directions she gives on her blog. Ready…go!!!
