Still Smiling

You'll have to forgive me for dwelling on Sonwun's art, but I'm truly fascinated. In spite of the tongue-in-cheek "critiques" I've offered in the past, I do believe the art is a reflection of what's going on inside his little head. And I just think it's really, really cool to see it expressed on paper.

The latest evolution is stick figure stories.

Up until now, he's pretty much stuck to individual works, Rainbow Hands for example.

But yesterday he really started into the stick figure stories. And again, there was no prompting for it. He just sits at the dining room table and goes about his business while I clean or fold laundry or whatever.

He called me over and showed me his latest work. It was a stick figure standing beside a boxy-looking thing.

"What's that," I asked him.

"It's me, and that's a swing."

"Cool!"

"And I'm going to make you," he said, "so you can push me on the swing."

And he did. He drew a bigger stick figure which apparently represented me, standing on the other side of the swing. I just think that's cool.

This morning he drew another picture. This one of two stick figures, one larger, one smaller, standing on either side of a boxy-looking thing that seemed to have a knob or handle on it.

"What's that?"

"That's you and mommy," he said.

"And what's this," I asked, pointing to the box.

"It's the refrigerator. You're getting breakfast for me."

Okay, we don't have arms in the picture, which would make getting breakfast a little more of a challenge, but I do notice we're both smiling. That's kind of a relief for me, as I'm home all day, every day with the boys and, yes, I do get annoyed and frustrated at times with their antics. I'm not always smiling.

It's just nice that, inside that little head, and on paper, I'm still smiling.

Have a great Monday!

Rainbow Hands

Well, March indeed came in like a lion. And I'm not talking about the weather.

I am talking about Sonwun and his art.

I have been tracking my young artist's work from the early days of scribblism, through dot-to-dotism, through realism and through attempts by "the system" to destroy his artist's heart and creativity. You'll find the journey chronicled here and here.

Go check 'em out. I'll wait here.

Anyhoo, true to form, last night Sonwun made another epoch-shattering explosion in the art world with the creation of his latest work, Rainbow Hands. And these works are his greatest leap forward since his first foray into realism with his piece "Me, Balancing on my Boinger."

And, just like the Boinger piece, this one came out of the blue.

Sontoo and I were going through the bedtime routine; warm milk in the living room, followed by stories, hugs and night-night upstairs. I noticed Sonwun was working in the living room as Sontoo had his milk, but I didn't pay attention.

He's been stuck in a bit of a creative rut of late and had reverted to monochromatic scribblism in, I believe, an attempt to get back to his artistic roots.

It happens to a lot of artists. They achieve a measure of commercial success, accolades, a prized spot on the Kenmore Art Gallery and they lose focus. It becomes about the money, the fame . . . not the art, for art's sake. Boinger had that affect on Sonwun's work.

But last night, after night-night for Sontoo, I returned to my comfy chair in the living room to watch Gordon Ramsey swear at people (it's okay, it was all bleeped out), when Sonwun presented me with "Rainbow Hands."

I was stunned. Speechless. It was beautiful.

Not only was it a complete departure from his earlier works, it demonstrated a new maturity for my young artist. Sure, he stayed within the lines, but the artist's heart was beating out a fresh and exciting form of expression.

Now, as his patron, I can fully appreciate his message in a way that the average observer, or critic, can not. Rainbow Hands speaks of Sonwun's desire for friends, his dissatisfaction with Michael Ignatieff's role as Leader of Canada's Official Opposition, his love of chicken fingers, his joy in Canada's gold medal victory in hockey, his desire for a clean, renewable energy source, his belief that Ford Canada should provide a loaner vehicle if a Ranger with 13,000 kilometres on it breaks down and needs a month worth of repairs, his love of Superhero movies and his prayer for peace in the Middle East.

It's all there, in multi-chromatic glory. We are many colours, one hand. Let's work together.

As I sit here this morning, I can hear the rattle of Crayola markers. Sonwun is up bright and early, anxious to continue his work, his message. And I can't wait to witness the next artistic evolution.

In the meantime I present, for the first time anywhere, Rainbow Hands:




Have a great weekend.

Artistic Evolution II

So it's official. Sonwun has entered the system. He is now colouring inside the lines . . . or at least he's making the attempt. Or is he?

Throughout his art career, he has never been one to follow in the footsteps of others. He's a trailblazer. He makes his own lines and then promptly colours through them. He cuts paper with scissors not, as society demands, to create realistic representations. No, he cuts with wild abandon and then, and only then, decides what he has created.

"The Beaver"

But it all seems to be changing. Yesterday, he came home with three objets d'art. The first two made my heart stop. The most horrifying piece was "The Beaver." With construction paper as the mileu, Sonwun had correctly assembled, and glued, the pre-cut pieces. The eyes, the ears, the nose and the teeth were all present, relatively symmetrical and, worst of all, there was not an abundance of glue. It was clear that another hand was at work in this piece. My faith was mildly restored, however, when I noted Sonwun had chosen two different eye colours for his beaver. The artist was alive, but clearly on life support!

"Color these things that are purple"

The second work "Color (WHY ARE WE USING AMERICAN SPELLING?????) these things that are purple," opened a window to the mind-controlling, art-killing techniques of preschool. It was clear that Sonwun had been asked to monochromatically decorate five objects; grapes, a flower, a skirt, a dinosaur and, I'm gonna say a plum.

And it was clear that he'd been pressured to stay within the lines. Sure, there were some feeble efforts at self-expression as he snuck outside the societal norms with his purple crayon, but it was clear that he was losing the battle. And to make matters worse, there was a "Making Progress" sticker at the top. A reward, if you will, for following suit, for falling in line, for taking orders and executing them to meet another person's world view.

But the final and most telling work, "Teddy Bear," renewed my hope and my faith that Sonwun had not entirely caved. To the uneducated critic, it looks like a standard preschool teddy bear art project. The bear, again assembled from pre-cut construction paper shapes, is mounted on a brown paper plate. Almost all of the elements are in their anatomically correct locations. But I see the subtleties, the rebellion and the free spirit that marked Sonwun's earlier works in dot-to-dotism and scribblism. The artist is alive!!

"Teddy Bear"

Now some might dismiss the fact that the bear has 12 eyes as mere motor skill issues, poor marker control. But they would be wrong. I know that Sonwun is crying out through his art. He's saying that he's watching. He's aware of all that is going on around him. He knows what they're trying to do and, in his own subtle way, making them believe they're succeeding.

And then there's the ears. I note that only one has the requisite pink piece of construction paper glued in the middle. Again, the uneducated critic would say "poor glue technique . . . we'll work on that."

But I know what's really being said here. Sonwun is saying that, yes, I'm hearing you. But I'm not listening. I am aware of what you want from this piece, but you need to know that I will do it my way.

And finally, the most telling element in this objet d'art. The reverse paw. Once again, the uneducated will tell you that it was merely an oversight. The artist didn't recognize that the end with the little thumb needed to go on the outside, not on the shoulder. See? He got it "right" on the other side. It's just a technical glitch.

What the critic fails to note, and this is critical, is that Sonwun chose the left arm to invert. The little paw is not, as most would observe, glued to the shoulder. The tiny paw is actually covering the teddy bear's heart. It is Sonwun's final volley in the war to maintain his artistic freedom.

He's saying, you may force me to use your pre-cut, pre-concieved tools for my art, but you will never destroy my artist's heart. Your attempts to alter my path with peer pressure and "Making Progress" stickers has failed. My body may be here in your classroom of conformity, but my spirit is free.

Sonwun: 1

The System: 0

Artistic Evolution

I don't know whether to celebrate or mourn.

Sonwun has reached a new phase in his artistic development. He's now leaning toward realism and I'm not sure what to make of it.

Sonwun has always been a free spirit. He thinks outside the box, colours outside the lines and every day is no-pants day in his mind. Cast off society's denim prison, says he.

I admit, I have had some concerns with his art. One of his first friends, back in Gimli, was more of an in-the-lines kind of guy. This kid could colour and not only inside the lines, but with the correct hues for the occasion - a born realist, a Bateman in training.

And it was during this time that Sonwun was fully exploring scribblism, often monochromatic scribblism, which I, as his patron, preferred to think of as "pure" scribblism without all those distracting colours. He filled sketchbook after sketchbook with his work, quickly abandoning his lesser works and spending hours on his masterpieces, all in an effort to express, with wax and paper, his toddler angst.

Sure, he dabbled on the multi-chromatic side once or twice, but his heart wasn't in it. It was merely an experimentation, a walk on the wild side, and did not speak to, or from, his inner artist.

In time, he moved on and we were soon deep into dot-to-dotism. It began simply enough, with a mass-produced colouring book. He found some pleasure in the medium, but, again, being a free spirit, he found his artistic soul trapped within the confines of the pages. Dot-to-dotism, in its commercial form, lacked meaning. Why must four follow five every time. Maybe four likes the way 15 thinks, and would prefer to follow him. Maybe four wants to lead, maybe four is its own entity with its own dreams and its own raison d'etre, independent of the others, said he.

And so he abandoned the popular demands of Disney's corporate dot-to-dot cage and struck out on his own. I will create my own dots, said he, and they will not be squelched by pre-assigned numerical expectations. They will exist independently on the page, free to follow those they choose, if

they choose to follow at all. And, just when it is believed they have found peace, connection and stagnation, I will offer them new choices, new dots and a new perspective. And so he did.

Once again, blank pages were filled with monochromatic representations of his vision in this free-flowing milieu. The scribblism pieces that formed the backbone of the Kenmore Art Gallery collection was soon joined by his best dot-to-dotism efforts, fleshing out his burgeoning career.

Sonwun briefly flirted, as well, with performance art, which almost cost him his funding. One of this first works, Yogurt on Dog, fell on deaf ears in his art community and was quickly destroyed in a fit of fury by his otherwise tolerant patron. (Although one fellow patron of the arts, who is rearing a few artists of his own, correctly suggested I should have photographed the piece before its destruction - my bad). Equally misinterpreted pieces included Toothpaste Mountain- a Bathroom Experiment; and Baby Brother Blue, a fusion of his love of scribblism with a live subject.

But his journey, his foray into the art world, veered off the path yesterday. It took a sudden turn that shocked his patron and raised concerns that maybe he had discovered and embraced marketability. Perhaps his dreams lay outside of the Kenmore Art Gallery and he was seeking bigger, more profitable venues for his visions.

He was working in his studio, warming up with multi-chromatic scribblism when I left him. I returned a half hour later to find this . . .

He has titled it, Me, Balancing on my Boinger. It is his first foray into realism and, as I mentioned earlier, I'm not sure whether to celebrate or mourn. Only time will tell as we watch and wait, with bated breath, for his next artistic evolution.

In the meantime I am keeping an eye on Sontoo's early works, which vary greatly from his elder sibling's. Wax and paper bore Sontoo. They are not his mediums of choice. As for markers? He'd rather eat them which, I

believe, is one of his first performance art presentations.

He is, I believe, a cubist at heart (or head) and is leaning more toward sculpture, as witnessed by his work New Balance Bottle.

Stay tuned folks. These pieces will

be available for sale, just as soon

as I figure out how to use PayPal. Sonwun may be averse to commercialism, but his patron knows the value of a buck and has been cultivating this aesthetic garden knowing there will be a bountiful crop down the road. We patrons are like that. And, as such, I choose to celebrate his exploration of realism and will find a place for his most recent work at the Kenmore Art Gallery.