Amirisu

Love this. My daughter's commissioned artwork in the opening pages of a Japanese knitting magazine. Japan! She's an international artist, apparently.

Birthday Stuff

Yesterday was my wife's birthday. There were a number of presents involved, but two of the nicest came from our kids. Maya produced the following original card:

Not to be outdone, Sage produced an original story. For your reading pleasure, the text:

Gudrun the Fair Isle Fairy
-a birthday story by Sage Anthony Durham

Gudrun raced through the woods, feet flying over the hard earth. Her bare soles crunched the leaves of fall beneath them, but she didn’t even hear them. All she could think about was getting to the otter. She didn’t know why but she knew she had to get to it. She had a bad feeling. And when she had bad feelings it meant something. Maybe the birth had gone wrong. The otter wasn’t due for another month, but…

Oh, she just ran. Good thing she had her trainers and spin gear on. Suddenly she was slipping and sliding down the stones toward the beach. Sure enough the otter had given birth. The pups were sooo cute. Small and lovely, eyes closed and looking like the best things ever. But… something was definitely wrong. She could see it in the mother otter’s eyes and hear it in her breath and feel it in her heart beat.

And then she knew. The otter pups were too small. Of course! It was a really early birth so the pups wouldn’t have nearly enough fat to stay warm in the North Atlantic. But that wasn’t all. They were cool to the touch, not warm like new pups should be. They needed to be heated up and soon. The sun was sinking into the hills and in the east a raucous gathering of clouds promised a storm. There was going to be weather, no doubt.

 Gudrun looked around. The landscape, bare and craggy and beautiful as it was, offered no help. Not a person to be seen. It was all on her. She inhaled. All on her. Nobody watching. That was bad, but it also meant one good thing...

With no witnesses, Gudrun pulled her knitting needles from the quiver on her back. Quick as an Elfen archer, she began to work her magic. She reached up and snatched at the last golden rays of the setting sun. The staccato click of her needles snapped away on the wind, but she didn’t falter. She wove the sunlight into glimmering yarn.

And she knitted. Oh, she knitted. This was her magic, something only she could do.

She worked fast, as was her style. When she was done the pups were snuggled up in warm gold hats, cardigans, scarves and pants; all of them pulsing with sunlight. Gudrun was content that the pups would live and grow up to be big and healthy, for they were covered in the magic of a Fair Isle fairy, a rare, secret breed, one of the last of the species.

 That day, feeling young and fit and in control of herself and her skills and her meaning in the world, Gudrun set off to look for other animals in need. She helped forty animals that day and saved forty lives. Next year, she’d aim to help forty-one.

Better with age, of course.

More magical.

(Not bad, huh?)

Maya's Latest

This is an Instagram snap taken of my daughter, Maya's, latest portrait. The color tone is a bit different than the original, but the image is the image.

What?

Edinburgh Art College. She's got you in her sights!

Paris, Through Maya's Eyes

The latest offering from my artistic 13 year old daughter. She did this drawing for extra credit in her French class. Pretty yummy, huh?

We'll be in Paris again this summer. I'm expecting it to look just like this...

Wish Me Luck

I'll need it.

I'm heading to town to visit the middle school. I'll be speaking to 80 eight graders about my writing, and then meeting with a class to discuss a short story of mine that they've read.

What's more? This is my daughter's school - and her class! I'll do my best not to embarrass her. ;)

Zombie Academy

My daughter, Maya, recently had a school project that involved coming up with a story board for a short film. It was supposed to be something that all the students in her class could be in.

After a little back and forth, we came up with a zombie story. Maya put her artistic skills to work, and before long she had what I think is a tight little film sketched out.

Now, the idea was that all the students would show their story boards, and then they'd vote on the one they wanted to actually film. Problem is that Maya finished hers on time. Others took a few extra weeks. And then today, when it was time to show the story boards, Maya couldn't find hers.

Typical.

She had to describe it instead. Needless to say, that put her project at a disadvantage. A different one got chosen for filming.

Frustrated and yet proud parent that I am, I'd like to offer her story here, for your consideration. It's called Zomberfeldy Academy.

Take a look, and let me know what you think!

First Day At School

Strangely Empty Hallways

Mr. Grave's Classroom

Her first view of her Classmates

When they turn around...

Fear!

She bolts out of there.

Heads for the loo.

Contemplates her options.

Gets light bulb.

Film and music montage.

Her triumphant return to the classroom.

Spooky Girl

Today, a post showcasing my daughter's continued growth as an artist.

She's recently begun taking an online art course with Juliette Crane. I met Juliette a few years back, and I've admired her artwork ever since. As Maya was needing a challenge with her work, we thought Juliette's course "How to Paint a Girl" might do the trick.

So far, it's been lovely. Even has Gudrun and Sage inspired to try their hand at it. Maya's the star, though. She's caught on wonderfully to painting, to layering, to making use of mixed media. Photos don't quite do her girls justice - since there's so much texture and fabric at play also - but here's a glimpse:

Spooky Girl

Cat Girl

The girl's got talent...

Saba Portrait

Maya (age 12) has taken to doing realistic drawings in the evenings. She came up with this one the other day, a portrait of a sleeping Saba:

Pretty cool, huh?

Spartacus Bunny, The First Sketch

So, I dunno. The Durhams were out walking in the hills the other day, and we got to talking about my Spartacus novel. Somehow, out of that, came the idea for a graphic novel: The Spartacus Bunny Wars.

Why bunnies? Ah... Why not?

I asked my daughter, Maya, to come up with an early sketch of the gladiator. She choose to focus in on a closeup. This is what she produced:

We think it my be a little too catlike at the moment. Obviously, we wouldn't want to write The Spartacus Cat Wars.

That would just be... ridiculous.

Just for the record, this is not the direction I'm going in for my novel. Perhaps it should be, though...

Maggie Wasn't So Sure

We finally have snow here in Western Massachusetts. Very nice. Fluffy stuff. Dog running around, big puppy that he is, nose in the snow. We're liking it. I hope that things are good were you are, and that you're enjoying whatever holiday you celebrate this time of the year.

For some random reason, I'm offering a wee story that my daughter, Maya, and I wrote together. It's a bit absurdist, a bit surreal, and it may not be at all funny. We think it is, but our perspective is skewed because after we wrote it we listened to it being read by the computer voice on my computer. If you get a chance, try that. Pauses all wrong. Pronunciation off. Flat notes... and then moments of hilarity.

But that may just be us. Here's the story...

Maggie Wasn’t So Sure

Maggie woke up one morning to discover that her feet were gone. They had totally vanished and instead of feet there were flowers. Water lilies to be exact. She tried to walk downstairs to tell her mom, but she couldn’t walk so she rode her dog.

When she told her mom, her mom said, “Oh well, dear. Let’s just buy you some new feet then. They’ll be way better than your old, boring feet.”

Her mother snipped off the water lilies and put them in a vase, and then she carried Maggie to the car. They drove into town to buy some more feet.

On the way to town her mom pretended to be a horse. She was kind of a scary mom.

At the foot store they saw many strange feet. Some had cat faces tattooed onto their toenails. Some were covered in warts, and the warts were sprouting mice. Some were covered in sesame seeds.

Maggie’s mom said, “Oh, would you like some of those, dear?”

Maggie thought for a minute. “How about mismatched feet?”

A salesperson dropped out of the ceiling. “We have a special on mismatched feet today,” he said. “One foot looks like a tadpole and the other is really, really huge and the toes are all upside down. I know it sounds kind of random, but it’s the new style from Venezuela.”

The mom bought them for half price - $500. The new feet attached with hooks. Maggie realized that when she stepped with the tadpole one her hair would squeak. When she stepped with the other one she would fall on her face.

Maggie’s mom crossed her eyes. “Those feet should be really useful for playing volleyball.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure.

They went home. Their house was so happy to see them that it licked them. Maggie’s goldfish, Susan, wriggled along the floor toward her and ate one of her new feet. The tadpole one. Maggie’s mother got very mad. She squished the goldfish.

Maggie began wailing. “You always do that to my goldfish. Remember last Halloween?”

“That wasn’t a goldfish, dear. That was a zombie apricot. It had gone bad. And mad. I’m always looking out for you.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure.

Just then, Maggie’s dad came home. They explained the story of the day to him. He said, “Oh well, you only need one foot anyway. Two feet are overrated. When I was a kid I only had half a foot.”

Maggie said, “But how do I walk with just one foot?”

“You don’t walk. You hop.”

“But if I use this foot I fall on my face.”

“Really? You got one of those,” the dad said, excitedly. He bent to study it more closely. “A somersault foot! You’ve just got to learn the special way to tuck and roll.”

Her mom said, “We’ll sign you up for gymnastics class. I’m sure you’ll live happily ever after with that foot.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure.

Man With Grass

For no reason other than fatherly pride, I offer a glimpse of a new Maya Calypso Durham drawing:Remember, she's still ten...

The Red Haired Woman

Call me a proud father. Every now and then one of Maya's drawings really stuns me. This is the latest to do so (And as you look, remember that Maya's just ten years old!):

Maya and Persy

Excuse me for a moment, but I have another family thing to mention.

For those who are interested in birthdays and kittens and happy kids... please take a look at The Shetland Trader.

For those of you NOT interested in such things, feel free to ignore this post.

Campbell & Things Overheard While Living

Apart from being happy and answering lots of emails, I haven't progressed a lot with my thinking on the Campbell Award and/or the Hugos. I'd like to think I'll have thoughts on both in the weeks to come, and I'll share them here.

One thing I didn't say with the last post is congratulations to all the other Campbell Nominees. You guys are standouts, and I'm glad to be in the mix with you. Let's hang out in Montreal, if not before, and let's be friends moving forward with our writing lives. Sound good? I hope so, because the part of me that wants to win this thing is a close relative to the part that's just glad to be included, that wants to be a part of something and to make friends and allies for the future.

Last year Jon Armstrong, another Campbell Nominee, did a series of interviews with the other nominees for his series If You're Just Joining Us. He did them as audio interviews. Very cool. I'm not quite that tech savvy, but I'd love to post features on each of the other Campbell contenders. We might as well use the occasion to spread the love. Hopefully, I'll soon be able to offer you some quality time with these authors.

So that's that. On another note...

The young lady to the left here is my daughter, Maya Calypso. This evening I watched a rather interesting exchange between her and her mother. I was sitting to the side, so I heard things with a bit more clarity than my wife. I should mention to preface that we rather like nice sweets here in the Durham household. Not generic chocolate bars, but confections with... well, real chocolate and such in them. It's those delicacies, frugally dispensed, that this is about.

It went like this...

Maya (from the other side of the room): "Anviano lafl aoml aif nibubuv caramel?"

Gudrun: "What?"

Maya steps closer, says: "Anviano lafl aoml aif nibubuv two caramels?"

This went on for awhile, until...

Gudrun: "What? Speak clearly. I can't hear you."

Maya (after exhaling with exasperation, and then vocalizing with a speech-therapist's pronunciation): "Can I have three caramels?"

Gudrun (relieved to have finally made sense of her daughter's mumblings): "Yes."

I sat there impressed. One caramel became three, all by the process of limited - and selective - communication. As has happened many times before, I just learned something from my daughter. Not sure how to use this new knowledge, but I'm filing it away for future reference.

The Detective Cat

Does this guy look slick or what?He's called The Detective Cat and he's one of several of my daughter's new prints, available for viewing at Maya Calypso Durham Talks.

I don't know about you, but I want to know this guy's story. He kinda looks like he's working undercover or something...

Maya's Cats

Maya's latest creation. Just had to share it...Nine years old, she is.

Maya Calypso Durham...

...is nine years old today. Geez... Are you kidding me? This young lady is my daughter! (Said with nine years worth of awe at that fact.) She is as lovely in person as looks in this photo...

What I did to deserve the family I have escapes me. I don't know. Blessed by whomever does the blessing, I guess. I'm not sure how I got them, but I'm doing my best to be worthy of them now. Maybe I got them on credit, now I'm chipping away at the monthly statements - happily.

Maya was born in Scotland. We lived in the very small village of Forneth at the time, in Perthshire. (Go find that on a map - if you can!) I'm talking sheep and rabbits here, wonderful views, turnips and rape seed flowers (which bloom brilliant yellow). My in laws lived just down the road, around the bend, and my father in law, the poet and novelist and naturalist J Laughton Johnston, picked up the old quill and penned a few words to commemorate the occasion. The poem is included below.

Should you be inclined to read it do note that Laughton was writing from the Shetland Isles, where he was at the time of Maya's birth and where he and Patricia now live. Also note that my family is from the Caribbean, Trinidad in particular - hence the Calypso in Maya's name and the mention in this poem...

Maya (2.7.99)

The Flags are flying for Maya,

Yellow above the stiff green blades

around the mill at Bousta.

Overhead another raingoose rides the hypotenuse

and beyond the skerries and the tirricks

Brilliant white birds fold themselves into origami darts,

hurtle to the sea

and re-emerge as fish-stuffed gannets.


I look out over the Bay of St Magnus

And wonder what parallels, if any,

There might be between these North Sea islands

and those of the Caribbean?

What a hanself you have been given,

such a harvest of far-flung seed.


Maya,

who can look out at seabirds from so many shores

and call each one - home.


J Laughton Johnston
Bousta July 1999

(Next year, on Sage's birthday, I'll post the poem Grandpa wrote about Sage as well.)

Maya's Knights

It's been a little while since I had any of the kids' artwork up. Here's a new one from Maya. Knights!

Art Show No. 2

Just a heads up; my daughter, Maya, has her second art show up on her blog now.

Here's a sample...
Now, would you mess with the winged red fox? I wouldn't, and I wouldn't advise it. My advice: don't mess with the winged red fox!

Man, it's a good show. Eight years old she is. Check out the rest here.

Maya's Art Show

Just wanted to alert interested parties that my daughter, Maya (8 years), has an awesome wee art show up on her blog, Maya Calypso Durham Talks. If you'd like to take a look, click it. She's good. She's really, really good.

Positive comments appreciated... (On her blog, that is.)