Showing posts with label elephant intelligence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elephant intelligence. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

Elephant No. 345: Peanuts




A few weeks ago, when I made an elephant from jellybeans, my friend Tom suggested I try peanuts. So today I thought I would.

Peanuts (Arachis hypogaea)—also known as groundnuts, earthnuts, pig nuts and goober peas—are legumes, belonging to the bean family. They are native to South America, and were probably first cultivated in Paraguay. Peanuts feature in the art of many pre-Columbian cultures and, even today, non-domesticated strains of peanuts grow wild in the valleys of Paraguay and Bolivia.


Peanut necklace made of gold and silver, Moche Culture, Peru, ca. A.D. 100–300.
From the book Art of the Andes, by Rebecca Stone-Miller, 2002
Source: http://theslideprojector.com/art9/art9lecturepresentations/art9lecture15.html




The oldest known specimens of domesticated peanuts were discovered in Peru, and date back about 7,600 years. Cultivation of peanuts later spread as far north as Mexico, where Spanish conquistadors found peanuts for sale in local markets. European traders later spread the growing of the plant worldwide.

Peanuts were grown as a garden crop in the United States and Canada for over two centuries, but were used primarily as animal feed until the 1930s. Following a disastrous failure of the cotton crop in the American South during the early years of the twentieth century, agricultural scientists—most famously, George Washington Carver—encouraged farmers to plant nitrogen-bearing crops to replenish depleted soils. This included peanuts. Carver also came up with hundreds of recipes for peanut-based foods, and is today seen as almost singlehandedly creating a peanut-growing market in the United States.

As one of their names—groundnut—suggests, the peanuts themselves actually grow underground. The height of the plant above ground is only about 30 or 50 cm (1 to 1.6 feet). When I lived in Africa as a child, we always called them groundnuts, and they usually still had fine red sand clinging to the shell after roasting.

More amusing to a child were the sacks of groundnuts frequently spilled across one particular stretch of Nigerian road: the result of overloaded trucks that had tipped over on the highway. They made a most satisfying sound when people drove over them, and lured many a monkey from the nearby bush. But never any elephants.


Freshly dug peanut stalks with pods, Stuckey, South Carolina, U.S.A., 2004.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Peanut_9417.jpg


The plant grows small yellow flowers that look a bit like sweetpeas. Following pollination, the flower stalk lengthens until it bends and touches the ground. As the stalk continues to grow, the flower is pushed under the soil, and the fruit develops there as a legume pod. The pods measure about 3 to 7 cm (1.2 to 2.8 inches) in length, and contain anywhere from one to four seeds, or peanuts. It takes about four or five months from the time seeds are planted for the pods to be ripe.


Peanut (Arachis hypogaea) flower.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Arachis_hypogaea_Flower.jpg


Peanuts are harvested from the soil by a machine that cuts off the plant just below the levels of the pods. The machine then lifts the plant from the ground, shakes it, then turns the bush upside-down to keep the pods off the ground. The pods are then left to air-dry for three or four days, and will shrink to about a third of their original size. Traditionally, the plants were pulled up and inverted by hand.

Once harvested and dried, the peanuts are either roasted in their shells, or shelled then roasted or otherwise processed. The most popular types of peanut are Spanish, Virginia, Valencia, Runner and Tennessee Red or White. Most peanuts in the shell are Virginia; Spanish peanuts are used in peanut candy, salted nuts and peanut butter. Runner nuts are used to make peanut butter.

In addition to such traditional uses, peanuts are pressed to make peanut oil, and are ground into flour. They are also used for unexpected purposes such as solvents, makeup, medicines, textiles, plastics, dyes, paints, and even nitroglycerin and fuel. In addition, the plant tops are used as animal feed, and the shells are used in manufacturing plastic, wallboard, abrasives, fuel, cellulose and mucilage-style glue.

Peanuts are high in important nutrients such as niacin and protein, and abound in antioxidants. They also contain resveratrol, which is thought to reduce the incidence of heart disease and cancer. Peanuts can be a significant allergen for some people as well, causing reactions ranging from watery eyes and hives to anaphylactic shock.

Today, peanuts are grown in many countries around the world. They require sandy, loamy soil and about five months of warm weather, so can be grown in many climates. China leads world production of peanuts, with 41.5% of the market, followed by India (18.2%) and the United States (6.8%).

For today's elephant, I bought a few different types of peanuts at a bulk food store. I was originally going to buy only peanuts in the shell (because I like those best), but I thought I would need some more colours, so I bought Virginia peanuts with the dark skin intact, and some blanched roasted peanuts.






I started by laying out a rough elephant shape with the nuts in the shell, as I thought these were the ones elephants would be most likely to eat, and figured they should make up the bulk of the elephant. Despite their size, peanuts in the shell actually work well, because they have a shape that allows them to nestle together nicely. They also come in various sizes, which allowed me to use single-nut pods to fill in a few of the odd-shaped spaces.




For the next stage, I added a few Virginia peanuts as an eye. I used four or five, placing a couple of them more or less upright, with two or three others laid over top.




To finish up, I removed some of the peanuts in the shell from the trunk and mouth area, and placed some of the blanched peanuts as a tusk. Because they were small, I added about three layers at the widest part of the tusk, to give the tusk some dimension, and to ensure that it didn't sink into the face.

It took me about half an hour to make this, and it certainly wasn't hard. Now if only I had a pet elephant to help eat all these peanuts.





Elephant Lore of the Day
Although peanuts are not an elephant's favourite treat—they much prefer fruit and sugar cane—they will will definitely eat them. And if no other treats are in sight, an elephant will do everything it can to get at the tasty snack.

Elephant keeper Henry Sheak wrote in 1923 of a particularly clever elephant named Dunk, who was determined to unearth a peanut that had gotten wedged in a narrow gap between the door and the floor of his enclosure at the National Zoological Park in Washington, D.C.

Because the floor of the enclosure was several inches higher than the entrance, Dunk couldn't reach in with his trunk and grasp the peanut. According to Sheak, Dunk eventually paused, as if to size up the situation. Then, putting his trunk down near the peanut, he blew gently on it with his trunk until it became accessible.

Sheak also reports, rather endearingly, that Dunk was the only elephant he'd ever known who reformed his ways. It was once believed that when an elephant "went bad", there was no way to redeem it. Luckily, Dunk, who had turned rogue in a travelling menagerie, regained his gentle disposition when transferred to the zoo.

In fact, Dunk became so popular with visiting children that, when he was injured and had to be euthanized in 1917, the children raised money for a plaque in his memory. The plaque remains in the Elephant House at the National Zoological Park to this day, nearly 100 years later.


Dunk, the first elephant at the National Zoological Park in Washington, D.C.
The photograph is from a 1930 book, but was probably taken closer to 1900.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Dunk_elephant.jpg


To Support Elephant Welfare

Thursday, 6 September 2012

Elephant No. 340: Place Cards




I came across a pack of interesting papers for a mere dollar a few days ago, and thought it would be fun to try making small cards of some sort. I thought maybe place cards, given the relatively small size of the paper.

This is the pack of "leather-look" papers I bought. There were other colourways—browns, greys, and autumn colours, for example—but I liked this selection best.





I've never actually made place cards before, so I didn't even know what size they should be. Luckily, there are many, many online sites offering designs, templates and sizes. To make the most of the paper I had, I decided to produce a set of eight cards, each measuring about 7.5 by 5.7 cm (3 by 2.25 inches) when finished.

I started by cutting eight flat pieces—each 7.5 x 11.4 cm (3 x 4.5 inches)—which would give me my desired size when folded. I cut two from each of the four colours of paper, then folded them in half, creasing them with a bone folder. You could also use the side of a spoon or even your fingernail.




This was obviously a bit plain, so I cut random oblong shapes from contrasting colours and glued them onto one of the folded sides. I cut two oblongs of each colour as well.




Next, I made two small elephant templates. I figured out the size by tracing first around one of the folded cards, then drawing inside the shape. I didn't care if they fit perfectly on the oblongs—in the back of my mind, I was thinking the cards should be slightly off-kilter.




I traced each elephant shape onto the back of each of the four colours of paper, giving me one elephant shape in each colour. I then glued them somewhat randomly to the fronts of the cards.

This left me with a bit of a problem: where should I write the names of my guests? I didn't really want to scrawl across the elephant or the background, so I decided to cut random strips from scraps of each colour—except the navy blue—and glued them along the sides. I put four strips on the left side of the cards, and four on the right.





Although it took me about two hours to cut and assemble everything, it was certainly not at all difficult. And at only fifty cents for paper—since I only used half the package—it cost next to nothing.

Although I rarely use place cards, I have to say that I'm very happy with the way these turned out, and wouldn't be ashamed to see them on my dining table.





Elephant Lore of the Day
Although it's a bit too easy to anthropomorphize intelligent creatures such as elephants, sometimes they really don't seem to behave much differently than humans.

In the early part of the twentieth century, elephant keeper Henry Sheak reported watching circus elephants going through their routines on their own, without any prompting from human trainers. Starting at the beginning, they would perform the entire routine.

If one of them faltered, that elephant would either take itself off to the side and practice the problematic section, or the whole group would start the routine from the beginning and run through it again. Sheak thought it might be boredom that made the elephants run through their routines, but the fact that they were so orderly about it perhaps argues some higher level of thought.

In the late first century A.D., Roman historian Plutarch reported on something similar. Although most of the emperor's performing elephants managed to learn their routines relatively easily, there was one elephant among them who was a bit slow to catch on. One night, this particular elephant was spied in its enclosure, running through the entire routine on its own by moonlight, without a human in sight.   


Elephants practising at the Canadian National Exhibition, 1913.
Photo: City of Toronto Archives, Fonds 1244
Source: http://www.blogto.com/city/2012/08/5_long-gone_acts_from_the_cne_of_old/

 
To Support Elephant Welfare

Monday, 3 September 2012

Elephant No. 337: Three-Dimensional Corkboard




I bought a pair of cork tiles a few days ago, with no real idea how I'd use them to make an elephant, so today I thought I'd try to figure it out.

Cork comes from a tree called the Cork Oak (Quercus suber), which is native to northwestern Africa and southwestern Europe. Because it is impermeable and lightweight, it is used in many products, from wine stoppers to flotation devices.

Cork was first examined under a microscope by Robert Hooke during the seventeenth century. Interestingly, the divisions he saw in the material led to his discovery of what he called a "cell"—named for its resemblance to a monk's chamber.


Cork oak in Christchurch Botanic Gardens,
Christchurch, New Zealand.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cork_tree.jpg


Cork is harvested from early May to late August, when the cork can be separated from the tree without causing permanent damage. Cork is not harvested from a tree until the tree is at least 25 years old and at least 60 cm (24 inches) in diameter.

The first harvest always results in poor quality, or "male" cork. After this, each tree is harvested approximately every ten years, although it can take as many as 13 years for cork to reach an acceptable thickness. High-quality cork is known as "gentle" cork, and is used for making wine and champagne stoppers. A cork tree lives an average of 200 years.


Harvested cork oaks, Ubrique, Spain, 2008.
Photo: Wavering
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cork_Trees_Ubrique.jpg



There are currently about 2.2 million hectares (5.4 million acres) of cork forest in the world: 32.4% of which is in Portugal, and 22.2% of which is in Spain. Approximately 300,000 tonnes (330,000 tons) of cork is produced each year, 61.3% of which comes from Portugal. In 2011, the Portuguese cork industry alone was worth 806,000,000 Euros (approximately $1.1 billion U.S.).

Although there was some controversy a few years ago about the sustainability of cork production, cork is not only an environmentally friendly industry but also a highly sustainable one. Studies on the carbon footprint of the cork industry in a number of countries have determined that cork is, for example, far and away the most environmentally friendly form of wine stopper: a plastic stopper releases ten times more carbon dioxide, and an aluminum one releases a whopping 26 times more carbon dioxide.

The World Wildlife Federation has also launched a campaign to ensure the long-term survival of cork forests. When cork suddenly fell out of favour for wine stoppers, existing cork forests came under threat. And once cork forests are of no commercial value, they face either abandonment or conversion to other uses. This is a significant problem for species that are specific to cork forests, such as the critically endangered Iberian lynx, the Iberian imperial eagle, and the Barbary deer. As a result, the World Wildlife Federation is currently urging people to ensure that they buy wine and champagne with natural cork stoppers. For more on the importance of cork forests, please click here.

Cork is harvested by workers known as "extractors". Using a very sharp axe, they make two types of cut: a horizontal cut around the trunk at a height of about two or three times the tree's circumference, and several vertical cuts called "rulers" or "openings". Although the cuts require significant force, this is actually a rather delicate operation, because the extractor cannot damage the layer just beneath the commercial cork, or the tree will die.

Wine and champagne are the most lucrative cork products. The stoppers made for wine are often a single piece of cork, whereas the stoppers used in champagne are made of composite granules. Because of cork's spongy cellular structure, the material is easily compressed when inserted into a bottle, expanding to create a tight seal.


Natural cork wine stopper.
Photo: © 2007 David Monniaux
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cork_p1160013.jpg


The sheets of cork used in bulletin boards and tiles for walls and floors are a by-product of stopper production. Granules of cork can also be mixed into concrete. Cork is used as well for the joins in woodwind instruments such as the clarinet, for shoes, for the cores of baseballs and cricket balls, in heat shields on spacecraft, and even for a special-issue Portuguese postal stamp.


Portugal's stamp made of cork, issued December 26, 2007.
Made of cork measuring a mere 0.35 mm (0.13 inch) in thickness, it had
a face value of one Euro, and was issued in a limited edition of 230,000.
Source: http://michel.wermelinger.ws/postugal/cork-industry/


For today's elephant, I realized that the cork tiles I'd bought were actually rather thin, and that I would have to at least layer them if I were to use them in any way. My first idea was to make a couple of shapes with these, then stick them to an existing board. My other idea was to simply layer one of the tiles over top of the other.




I thought that the tiles had a peel-off backing, since most cork tiles do—and also because the uses listed on the label make it sound like they're peel-and-stick. Sadly, they weren't. This made life a bit more complicated, although not unduly so, since I had double-sided tape on hand.

In the end, I decided it would be interesting to make a small elephant corkboard, using one of the 30 x 30 cm (12 x 12-inch) tiles as a background, and cutting up the other to make a raised design. I've never seen a multi-layer corkboard, so I wasn't sure how well it would work out, but the tiles are cheap, so if it ended up a bust, it would be no great loss.





The hard part was figuring out what kind of design to make. The basic square is rather small, so the design would have to be somewhat minimal.

I sketched something out on paper first.




Because I didn't want one big mass for the design, I then retraced the design into a series of templates.

I traced around the templates onto one of the cork tiles, using a permanent marker.




Once I had all the shapes, I cut them out with a sharp craft knife. I tried cutting off one corner with a pair of sharp scissors, but scissors mangle the cork and cause it to fracture, so I used a craft knife and a self-healing cutting mat for everything. When everything was cut, I laid it out to see how it looked. Because there were marker lines on the original side, I flipped all the pieces over.




When everything was cut out, I placed double-sided tape in various strategic locations on the back of each piece.





I then assembled the whole thing.

To finish this, I'll need to get some kind of board or other backing, and a frame. Unfortunately, it's a holiday here today, so the shops aren't open. I may also switch from double-sided tape to glue, depending upon how well this holds together.

In the end, I was quite happy with my final design. I'm not sure how practical it will be, but it looks interesting, and might end up being a fun place to hang jewellery and the like.







Elephant Lore of the Day
Elephants are quick learners, as the following story attests.

Queenie was an Asian elephant at the Melbourne Zoo in Australia, during the first half of the twentieth century. A gentle and intelligent creature, Queenie gave children rides, ate gently from their hands, and performed various tricks. So popular was Queenie that people would line up for hours, just for a chance to interact with her.

Children would often taunt Queenie as well, holding out food that they would then snatch away from her. Often she would respond by taking them in her trunk and rolling them gently onto the ground.

One day, however, Queenie took a different tack. A group of about 15 schoolboys took turns teasing Queenie, each holding out a hand filled with nuts and fruit. As Queenie reached for the treats with her trunk, they would pull their hands away.

After a while, Queenie moved away and instead approached boys with no food. Holding out her trunk, as soon as they reached out to touch it, she would snatch her trunk away. The rest of boys—who had earlier teased Queenie—moved in more closely, each eager to play this new game with the clever elephant.


Queenie giving rides at the Melbourne Zoo, Royal Park, Melbourne, Australia, 1917.
Source: http://museumvictoria.com.au/collections/items/773798/negative-
queenie-the-indian-elephant-melbourne-zoo-royal-park-melbourne-victoria-1917


When all of the boys were within range, Queenie suddenly filled her trunk with the dirty water from her bathing pool and soaked all of the boys with one powerful and well-aimed spray.

Sadly, Queenie's story does not have a happy ending. Many years later, when Queenie had been at the zoo for 40 years, dutifully giving children rides, enduring teasing, and performing tricks, she had had enough. Although generally good-natured, one day in 1944 she trampled her keeper to death. He had been particularly cruel to Queenie just before she turned on him, beating her viciously behind the ears for disobedience.

The man tasked with shooting her was heartbroken. He had also been Queenie's keeper for a time, and declared her one of the loveliest animals with whom he had ever worked. He only agreed because he was the best shot in the zoo, and he wanted her end to be quick and painless. Queenie was 48 years old when she was euthanized.

Her story doesn't end there, however. So popular and iconic was Queenie, that she has since been immortalized in books, including the lovely Queenie: One Elephant's Story by Corinne Fenton, with illustrations by Peter Gouldthorpe.



Cover of Queenie: One Elephant's Story, 2006.
Source: http://www.walkerbooks.com.au/Books/QUEENIE-ONE-
ELEPHANTS-STORY-9781742032153?view=zoomCover


 
To Support Elephant Welfare


Sunday, 29 July 2012

Elephant No. 301: Thread Painting




A couple of months ago, one of the women at my fibre arts guild showed us a piece of art made entirely of thread stitches. It looked a bit complicated, but I tucked it away in my mind to try for this blog. Since I have a bit of time today to fool around with something new, I thought I'd try thread painting for today's elephant.

Thread painting can be done in a number of ways. Some artists stitch over a preprinted design on fabric, or paint something themselves that they then stitch over. Others draw a design on water-soluble material, lay it on top of fabric, and stitch through both layers. The water-soluble material is then removed. A third type involves stitching through water-soluble material onto tulle, in order to create delicate lace. Almost all forms of thread painting use a sewing machine.


Thread painting by fibre artist Jan Rickman. This piece is stitched onto a
hand-dyed background.
Source: http://www.janrickman.com/Jan_Rickman_Contemporary_
Fiber_Art_Techniques.html



Although much thread painting is similar to machine embroidery on fabric, the type I decided to try for today's elephant involved stitching directly onto a water-soluble material. Once the design was complete, I would soak the piece in water to remove the backing, leaving me with fabric composed entirely of thread. That was the plan, anyway.

This was the brand of water-soluble material I bought, which feels a bit like non-woven interfacing. I remembered someone telling me that there are certain brands that rinse away more completely than others, but I wasn't sure if this was one of them.




Because I'd never tried thread painting before, I looked up a couple of tutorials online. I found this set of printed instructions useful, and these. A "thread painting" search on YouTube turns up a number of helpful tutorials as well. My favourite was a Nancy Prince video called "Stitches with Attitude", but it wouldn't upload here.

I started, as all the instructions suggest, by putting a piece of the water-soluble material into an embroidery hoop—upside-down to how I'd normally use it. The hoop apparently makes it easier to manoeuvre the piece of embroidery around in the sewing machine.




Next, I drew a loose rectangle and sketched an elephant shape onto it.




I decided to tackle the background first, which I thought would look interesting in multiple shades of green. The stitching method is rather weird, to be honest. For those of you who sew, you don't use the presser foot or pretty much any other kind of guide or tool. The needle just sort of goes up and down and floats wherever it wants, unless you're fairly careful to guide it with your hands. I didn't like this rather chaotic approach. Then again, if you use a presser foot, you can't see what you're doing at all.

I started with a forest green, making a bunch of loose vertical lines.




Next, I layered over these with an olive green. I really had no clue what I was doing, but I did like the interplay of colours. I was less fond of the way the water-soluble material stuck to the needle sometimes.




I also discovered that the water-soluble stuff has a marked tendency to tear if it's subjected to any strain at all. The elephant actually began ripping away from the background. This made me think that it might be a good idea to start laying in the elephant—if for no other reason than to secure the elephant and background to one another.

Stitching the elephant part just about made me toss the thing in the corner. I had mistakenly used inexpensive thread, which wrought havoc on my sewing machine's ability to stitch anything sensibly. It skipped stitches, broke the thread more times than I could count, and both bobbin and top thread became hopelessly tangled at least a dozen times.




When the elephant was roughed in, it was so lumpy, ugly, and stringy-looking that I began thinking I should have had a backup plan for today's elephant.

After a restorative cup of tea, I decided that I'd had enough of the freeform-no-presser-foot business. Accordingly, I put the presser foot back on, and began running lines of stitching all through the elephant. This tidied it up considerably. The downside was that I couldn't clearly see what I was doing most of the time.




Once I'd more or less repaired the grey of the elephant, I added a couple more shades of green to the background. I stuck to a vertical pattern, except around a few tricky corners. I also had the sinking feeling that the vertical lines might not overlap enough to keep them from shredding apart when the water-soluble stuff was rinsed away, So I added a few sweeping lines of green across the background.

To finish up the elephant, I added a bit of pink in the ears and mouth, a bell and necklace, and an eye. I also thought it needed a bit of definition in a couple of places, so I added a few single lines of black stitching.




This is what it looked like when it was still dry.




I was tempted to leave it at this and just clip off all the white stuff. But since I'd gone to all the trouble and trauma of using the water-soluble material, I decided to soak the piece in a bowl of hot water.

The instructions for the water-soluble material say to launder it. That was not going to happen with this particular piece, because I just knew I would end up with an unrecognizable wad of coloured thread.

I left it to soak for about an hour, occasionally rubbing off a bit of the water-soluble stuff, which becomes a bit like wet paper when soaked.




Eventually I'd had enough of that as well, and began running the piece under hot water. This still didn't remove every last shred of the water-soluble material, but it was at least presentable now.

The whole thread-painting process was highly irritating at times, but the result is interesting enough that I'll probably try it again. The final piece isn't as pretty as I'd hoped, but I may remedy that by adding a few beads and maybe a bit of hand embroidery, or even machine-stitch some darker grey to add a few shadows.

A few tips if you decide to try this:

1. Work on background and main design at the same time, or the water-soluble material will tear all over the place.

2. Keep extra bits of the water-soluble stuff on hand to lay under torn areas, then stitch over them.

3. Use good thread and sharp needles. The needles will become dull quickly, and the frustration of frayed thread and skipped stitches isn't worth the money you might save on cheap thread.

4. Make sure you have lots of thread on hand in your desired colours. My final piece measures only about 10 cm (4 inches) by 7.5 cm (3 inches), but I went through the combined equivalent of two 500-metre (550-yard) spools of thread. This activity is, however, a good way to use up weird colours you may have lying around.

5. Be prepared for your shape to deform along the way. Despite the fact that this was secured in an embroidery hoop, the water-soluble material is very fragile, with a tendency to shred and stretch. In my case, I went from a rectangle to something that looks like a template for a tiny lampshade.

This piece took me hours, so there is no way I'm trying it again anytime soon. On the other hand, I learned enough that I'm sure I will use this technique at some point. Next time on something even smaller, and with top-of-the-line thread.





Elephant Lore of the Day
Elephants are known for their intelligence, but not much is written about their ability to assess a problem and find a solution.

In 1922, W. Henry Sheak, who had worked around elephants most of his life, wrote about a large female Asian elephant with the Ringling Brothers menagerie. This particular elephant was often used as a "pushing elephant", manoeuvring wagons into place with her head.

One morning, the assistant superintendent of the menagerie used the elephant to push a heavy wagon across a muddy lot. At one point, the wagon got hopelessly mired in the mucky ground. Unfortunately, the more the elephant pushed, the deeper the wheels sank.

The elephant pushed for a minute or two, then stopped, stepped back and eyed the vehicle. To Sheak's astonishment, the elephant then stepped forward and reached down with her trunk. Heaving one of the wheels free while pushing with her head, she freed the wagon in no time.


Asian elephant pushing a wagon in Australia, ca. 1908.
Source: http://circuszooanimals.blogspot.ca/2011/04/princess-alice-
lady-of-wonderland-city.html


To Support Elephant Welfare
Elephant sanctuaries (this Wikipedia list allows you to click through to information
on a number of sanctuaries around the world)
Wildlife Trust of India

Thursday, 29 March 2012

Elephant No. 179: Tissue Paper Tufts




I think the last time I tried this was in Grade 6, when I made an elf or something using a similar technique. I needed something easy for today's elephant, so here we go.

I've covered tissue paper before, so I'll just dive right in to the activity itself.

I bought this kit a couple of months ago, thinking it would be something I could do quickly. It wasn't.





I decided I would only use the colours of tissue paper that came in the package, despite the fact that brown, orange, green and yellow aren't really elephant colours.

There were no instructions in the package, so these two little photographs were all I had to go on.




I thought there might a trick to rolling the squares of tissue paper into little cushiony things, but if there is, I couldn't figure it out. I essentially folded the corners towards the middle of the square, then sort of balled it up, then stuck it down with glue.




I could tell already that I wasn't going to have enough of any one colour to finish the elephant, so I decided to just do an elephant outline.




When I was finished with the elephant, I put a few orange tufts to define veins in the ear, a brown tuft for the eye, and a little flower.





I didn't mind this activity, although it took longer than I thought it would. It's a somewhat meditative exercise, so it's not all that irritating or fiddly. From start to finish, this took about an hour, mostly because of the time it takes to ball up the little squares of tissue paper. If I'd had more time and more of the brown tissue, I would have filled in the whole thing.

In real life, this actually looks rather interesting, and I like the texture. I can see myself using this technique again sometime, although probably more as an embellishment, rather than as the main medium.







Elephant Lore of the Day
Given the size of their brains, it would be surprising if elephants weren't among Nature's most clever creatures. In a monograph on elephant intelligence published by the Nature Institute, Craig Holdredge reported on one of the funnier tricks I've heard.

In Asia, many elephants have been belled as a way of warning people that they are in the vicinity. Many young elephants, however, have learned how to plug the bells around their necks with wedges of heavy mud or clay, so that the clappers cannot sound. This allows them to steal silently into groves of cultivated banana trees at night.

So quiet are the elephants that they can eat not only the bananas and leaves, but the entire tree—often right beside the hut in which the owner of the grove is sleeping—without waking the farmer or his family.


Elephant eating bananas at Elephant Nature Park,
Chiang Mai, Thailand.
Photo: Justin Watt
Source: http://justinsomnia.org/2011/04/more-elephanty-goodness/