Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Portrait of an Artist as a Seven-Year-Old

Lindsay gave me permission ( I think she did..didn't you Lindsay? oh well, I'm going to anyway) to post some of her earliest artwork. I think she was around seven when she wrote this book of poems for my grandmother. It shows how already she had a way with imagery and poetics. Especially the one about the squirrel. ;)

The Jam that Went
Once ‘twas a girl named Ann
Who loved to fry chicken in a pan
She was tempted to get in the jam
While frying a leg of lamb
Ann was naughty and ate
All the jam that was on the plate
Ann’s mother came home and found
Where all the jam was bound
Ann got quite a spank
And lost all the money in her bank
For paying for all that jam
And the very, very burnt lamb
Ann got very sick
For all the jam she did lick
And now she’s got a pain
Of never eating jam again


Look at the size of that jam jar! I happen to think that this is autobiographical.

Walking stalking, running
Tired, energetic

Tall, small
Talking, sleeping, eating
Unhappy, glad

Early attempts at anatomy and portraiture. Love the guy in the bottom left corner.

Good or Bad?
Am I good?
Or am I bad?
I’ll have to stop and think
I’m sometimes good, I’m sometimes bad
Oh bother! Let’s have a drink

Upside Down
I’m standing upside down
It’s fun, fun, fun!
I’m acting like a clown
It’s fun, fun, fun!

"Good or Bad?" was my grandmother's favorite. I think it was the part about having a drink that she liked.

Squirrel, Squirrel, squirrel
Why do you twirl and twirl?
You twirl all day
And never play
Oh why do you twirl and twirl?

Knock, knock, knock,knock
Who is knocking at my door?
Pitter patter, pitter patter
I walk across the floor
Creak, creak, creak, creak
I slowly open my door
Who’s there? Who’s there?
Only my uncle Ned
Pitter patter, pitter patter
Slowly back to bed

Uncle Ned sounds kind of creepy to me.

The Fight
A fight
I think it was last night
One boy hit the other
The other insulted his brother
Finally they were pulled apart very scratched and mad at heart
But soon they made friends again
And they forgot about all their pain

I'm glad this one has a happy ending. They look a little like they're dancing, not fighting.

So long! Farewell! Good-by!
Ireally must be going!
Oh really time does fly
But our friendship is still glowing!

Sorry if this is embarrassing Lindsay, but you know its a younger brother's job to embarrass his sisters.


Emily Barton said...

That jar of jam must have come from BJ's or Costco. All I can say is, Lindsay, you're a braver soul than I if you really gave permission for this, and I'm very, very happy I never wrote any books for Grandmic.

mister anchovy said...

I like these

imichie said...

Hey Emily, I don't know if Lindsay has seen this yet, she's been at the bay. I'm meeting her in C'ville tonight to see Neko Case (you should buy one of her CDs, you'd both like her--the Austin City Limits CD is good.) I'll find out how much "permission" she gave me to do this tonight I'll bet.

Mr. Anchovy, glad you liked them. Check out her art-as-a-grownup on her website, (linked to her name)

Froshty said...

I think Lindsay's portrait of herself at the end of the book shows us the beginnings of the artistic ability that is in full display today. I'm pretty sure that she didn't write the poems, or at least not all of them; some of them are from the infamous "Goodnight Story Book."

Ian, I'm just wondering if you have the book I wrote about a boy's visit to his grandmother in Kola that I wrote for Gran-Mic so that I can be prepared....

linser said...

Hey, I wrote those poems. They may be bad but they are original. Nothing is lifted from the Goodnight Story Book.

imichie said...

Maybe there was a little bit of influence from "The Goodnight Story Book" but I don't remember those poems being quite as eloquent as these.

Froshty, I have the classic "Jeff rides a Train" but I would have to take it apart to post it and that might ruin it, so you're off the hook.