Another Bad Day for Topham
This Can't Be Good
Photograph, 2008
Or Else Joe Was Painting Ceilings All Day
The Devil Riding Your Back
Latex on Cotton, 2008
Waiting for FEMA
Everything Seemingly Is Spinning Out of Control
Photograph, 2008
The Revolution Will Be Blogged
No More Confusion and Delay: The April Insurrection of Sodor
Photograph, 2008
Creepy Art for a Creepy Day
Last Night I Saw the Ghost Ship
Watercolor on Paper, 2007
Nate's pretty cool about nightmares. If he has one (usually around 9:30 or 10), he'll usually tell us about it in the morning, all cheerfully. "Hands!" he'll say. "Hands down there! Touched me on the shoulder!" Which is creepy enough, but sometimes it's feet reaching through the bars. One morning, he told us the floor was spinning. It looks like he'll be like me -- an active dreamer, and prone to remember it pretty clearly. Of course, I wouldn't complain if he avoids my years of childhood night terrors. So far, so good. Oh, and this painting has nothing to do with a ghost ship. That was my dream. Last night. (Yeah, I'm 36.) Nate rode it with me, and he got a kick out of it. Hey, if he can fight off shoulder-stalking extremities with good humor, what are a few spirits rising from the foamy surf? Happy Halloween, kids of all ages.
Is the Pope Catholic? Does a Bear ... um ...
Pensive Bear
Watercolor on Paper, 2007
Jenn asked Nate what he had painted here, and he told her "a bear." She was impressed, 'cause, well, it sure does look like a bear. So when I got home from work, she asked me what I thought it was. I paused for a long breath and said, "it's a bear." Jenn beamed. So did Nate, I think, and why not? He's starting to close the gap between what he sees in his head and what we see on the paper. Not that it matters in the end, of course. I'm sure the wealthy descendents of Jackson Pollock don't care about such clarity. Although I suspect Pollack was trying to paint bears, too, and just kind of sucked at it. Either that, or the bear exploded.
It's a Grand Old ... Something
One State, Two States, Red State, Blue State
Construction paper and glue on paper
I sat Nate down at the art table and asked him to create a bold piece that symbolizes the political polarization, tension, and mistrust that pervades our society today. He nodded, went to work, and came up with this piece. Nate explained that he hopes to grow up in an America characterized by mutual understanding and thoughtful, sober discourse -- a goal he called "ambitious at best, Dad." Then he sighed, grabbed the remote, drowned his existential ennui with apple juice, and wondered aloud whether Grampu is still the prime suspect in his son and daughter-in-law's disappearance, or just a "person of interest."
Someone's Been Watching the Races
The Monochrome Dreams of Tony Stewart
Watercolor on Paper, 2007
Dream Deferred: Immediate Crash on Restart
Crayon on Paper, 2007
Yabba Dabba Doh
The Natosaurus Stalks Its Prey
Play-Doh on Laminate, 2007
Can Nate's Dad Make Art Too?
UMass Library
Duplos on Linoleum, 2007
Something Pleasant for Your Weekend
Ming-Ming Is 'Accidentally' Trampled at the Jousting Lists
Chalk on Paper, 2007
Sorry Won't Fix Her: Tuck Contemplates What Linny Has Done
Chalk on Paper, 2007
Thanks, Nate, You Smartass
My Father Embraces the Inexorable March of Age with Color and Verve
Crepe Paper, Fabric, and Glue on Paper, 2007
Today, 8:55 a.m.:
Me: (Pulling up shade) Good morning, Nathan!
Nate: Daddy! (Hands me his blanket) Ghost? Ghost?
Me: (Putting blanket over my head) I'm a ghost!
Nate: (Laughs and pulls off blanket)
Me: Can Daddy have a kiss?
Nate: Mmmm-aahh! (Kisses Ocean Wonders aquarium)
Me: OK, now can Daddy have a kiss?
Nate: Mmmmmmmmm-aahh! (Kisses aquarium again)
Me: You know, it's my birthday. You could kiss me.
Nate: Mmm-aah! Mmm-aah! Mmm-aah! (On the aquarium, of course)
Me: Yeah, I love you too. C'mon, I'll make you some cereal.
One More Piece from Last Year
Ride, Ride, Ride
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
Hey, Dad's Busy, Smart Guy
Esteemed Rodent with Baked Goods: a Meditation in Three Colors
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
Nate here. I painted this picture of Mickey Mouse resting in a field of sugar cookies mere days before our recent trip to Disney World, to illuminate just how sweet I anticipated my vacation would be. I also told Dad he could have the sugar cookies if he shares our experiences and vacation photos online. Alas, we returned home almost a week ago, and still nothing. Oh, he says the first part of a multi-day Disney extravaganza will appear Wednesday, but I'm not exactly holding my breath. In the meantime, I think I'll eat the cookies myself. If they don't contain peanuts, of course. Interesting, huh? I won't eat foods that have been contaminated by peanuts, but I'm totally OK with the mouse head.
You Cannot Erase His Creativity
The Pterodactyl Knows Why
Chalk on Slate, 2006
My Son Seems Bitter
My Lazy Father Posts Art and Calls It Blogging
Chalk on Paper, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!
Governor Bradford Offers Thanks at the Bountiful Harvest, 1623
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
Wow, I Think He Actually Spent Time on This One
At Dusk We Hunt
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
I Think His Diaper Was Full
Brown Morning #1
Crayon on Paper, 2006
Brown Morning #2
Crayon on Paper, 2006
Nate's Art: Weighed and Not Found Wanting
Judgment Descends upon King Belshazzar's Feast
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
Yeah, but What Have the French Done for Us Lately?
Rochambeau Crosses the Housatonic, 1781: A Study in Two Colors
Crayon on Tinted Paper, 2006
Nate's Art Gets More Sewious
The Night Is Dark, and I Cannot Wake
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
None of us had a good time last night. Nate has apparently developed night terrors, and while they can be hereditary, I'd like to note that mine didn't start quite so early. In his case, the onset probably has something to do with his big life change of the past month, going to school twice a week (where he's actually coming along quite well, when he's not being bitten). Anyway, whatever the reasons, it sucks when your kid is crying and flailing, and you can't do a darn thing to comfort him, because he's not really aware of your presence. Nate wanted his latest watercolor piece to convey the feelings of anxiety and confusion that grip him during these moments. Well, it's either that or a puppy playing in the rain. Your call.
Nate's Minimalist Phase Continues
The Vulture Contemplates the Void
Crayon on Paper, 2006
Two Perspectives on Dogness
Running Dog in Heat
Watercolor on Paper, 2006
Ripley has been wearing her shorts for the past week, but she longs for the day when she can frolic free and naked once again. Nathan has effectively captured that desire, the pent-up longing, the graceful movement. Despite the intriguing choice to render Ripley in shades of green instead of black and white -- or perhaps because of it -- art historians will surely consider this an early masterwork. However, it seems to have sapped much of the painter's creative energy, for consider a companion piece produced during the very same week:
If I Only Had a Brain
Crayon on Paper, 2006
This profile of Maverick seems purposefully minimalist, capturing to some degree the emptiness and confusion that reigns inside this particular dog's head. Yet it feels incomplete. There was no real reason to leave the orange of his fur so undone: I mean, he's losing brain cells, not hair. And the colors, which achieve such wild kineticism in Running Dog in Heat, seem somewhat random and careless here. This must have been drawn the same day some kid belted Nathan in the head with a truck.
Dance Hall Days
Jeff and Julie got married three years ago today, so congratulations are in order. (Jenn and I will be celebrating six years on Saturday, so hooray for us, too.) Anyway, at Jeff's wedding reception, Jenn and I enjoyed dancing, even though I completely suck at it. But I was struck -- touched, even -- by who else I saw on the dance floor. My parents, for one thing. And Lori and Mark, for crying out loud. It was pretty awesome. I felt like Jesus probably approved. So I wrote this not long after, in honor of Jeff and Julie, but also of my whole surprising family. Enjoy, all you slaves to the rhythm.
***
Everyone Loosens Up
That day, I saw my Mom and Dad
as one. And dancing. He took lead
and held her like a dream he had
that answered every waking need.
The moon fell dim that rainy night;
my parents made their own spotlight.
My sister and her husband moved
like stars. And dancing. Not as when
they sat and smiled, as it behooved
them on their wedding day. Since then,
they’ve tasted years. So many more.
Enough to bring them to the floor.
But then the stars fell back. I saw
just two. And dancing. He was once
the child, my brother, anxious, raw,
now held in some glad permanence
of days. So close, he held his bride.
Rain kept their rhythm from outside.
I saw these scenes in half a glance,
content. And dancing -- with my wife,
breath catching faster in the dance,
like Lazarus raised to gasping life.
There was no time, just drifting sound,
and a love that sails horizon-bound.
That night, I saw my Mom and Dad
as one. And dancing. Could it be
we’re older, knees worn, eyesight bad,
but finally moved by sounds we see?
The dance had never drawn us in.
But the spirit moves. So we begin.
.
Nate's First Artwork
Dance of Spring
Crayon on Paper, 2006
