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

Monday, 21 May 2012

Elephant No. 232: Flip Book




A couple of times over the past few months, friends have asked when I was going to make a flip book. Since this is a holiday and I have a bit of extra time, I thought I'd make one for today's elephant.

The first known flip book appeared in September 1868. Invented by John Linnett as a "kineograph" ("moving picture"), it was the first type of animation to use serial images, rather than images in a spinning circle, as in a zoetrope or praxinoscope.

By 1894, Herman Casler had invented the coin-operated Mutoscope, which was a mechanized sort of flip book with images bound onto a rotating cylinder. Mutoscopes remained a popular feature of penny arcades and amusement parks until the middle of the twentieth century.

Flip books—sometimes known as "flick books"—rely on persistence of vision, just like movies. Although the images are not precisely continuous, the brain fills in the blanks, creating a sense of motion. This is the same principle that creates the strange optical illusion involved in a thaumatrope.

Because the pages must be flipped quickly in order for the illusion to work, a flip book is held on one side along the binding, then flipped with the thumb of the other hand. Interestingly, the German word for flip book—daumenkino—literally means "thumb cinema".

Although they started out as an intriguing visual delight for all ages, most flip books today are made for children. In my small collection of flip books, I even have a tiny version I received in a box of Cracker Jack years ago. In addition to the flip books made for children, however, sequences by film and photography pioneers such as Eadweard Muybridge have been turned into flip books—including one I have of a walking elephant. Flip books are also highly collectible, with some vintage examples selling for thousands of dollars at auction.

I made two flip books years ago as gifts for friends, so it's not a completely unfamiliar activity. The hardest part for me is figuring out a brief storyline or series of actions that can be effectively animated in 20 panels or less. More than that is a pain to draw and colour when you only have a few hours. It's also a bit hard to hold and flip through.

For today's elephant, I decided to tell a simple story of an elephant and a crocodile. I started by drawing a very rough storyboard in pencil on a sketchpad. Once I had broken down the general trajectory of the story into separate illustrations, I began drawing.




For the individual pages in the flip book, I cut a sheet of 96 lb (260 g) bristol board into 20 pieces, each measuring 5.5 x 8.75 cm (2.1 x 3.4 inches). It is important that they be small enough that you don't need to draw too much, and that they be longer than they are wide. For my previous flip books, I used ready-made blank index cards measuring 7.5 x 12.5 cm (3 x 5 inches).

I drew 17 individual panels for the story, as well as a cover page and an end page. I've done these with as little as 12 pages, so the number isn't important. The main thing is that you have enough illustrations to tell the story in a relatively smooth visual fashion.

When drawing the individual images, I wasn't slavish about making sure each image was identical to the previous one. For a flip book, I find that, as long as the image is more or less in the same place, or moving in the same direction, it will work. This is very rough animation, after all, so precision isn't essential.




Once I had finished all 19 drawings in pencil, I outlined them in black pigment liner. Because I wasn't sure if I was going to paint them or simply use coloured pencils, I heat-set the black pen with a hairdryer. This helps to prevent the ink from running when watercolour is laid over top of it.




Ultimately I decided to colour everything in with coloured pencils. I used water-soluble pencils, however, just in case I changed my mind about wanting a painterly look.






When all 19 images were coloured as much as I wanted them to be, it was time to bind them together. I don't know if there are other ways of doing this, but in the past I've simply used a heavy duty stapler to hold everything together. For this size flip book, one staple is probably enough. If the pages had been a bit wider, however, I would have used two staples.





The final touch—for me, anyway—is making the binding look nice. I personally like using wide hockey tape. This is a black cotton tape that is sticky enough to bond, but removes in the beginning if you don't like its placement. I like the clean, non-shiny look it gives to the binding, but any kind of tape would do.




I also find it helpful to crease the pages a bit to make it easier to flip through. I did this by laying a metal ruler along the binding and folding each page back. You could also score them lightly with a craft knife, but this may weaken the folds to a certain extent.




Making a flip book is actually quite easy if you storyboard it first. Even if you don't do that, as long as you keep the illustrations either in the same general area on the page, or moving in a specific direction, it should be fine. As you'll see in mine, I did both, to give you an idea of how it works.




It's a bit hard to photograph these in action, but the video below will give you an idea of what it looks like. It was a bit time-consuming at about three hours worth of cutting, drawing, colouring and binding, but I like the silly fun of flip books, so it's something I'll definitely try again.






Elephant Lore of the Day
Elephants in the West African nation of Chad are among the most endangered elephants in the world. A mere ten years ago, there were 4,000 elephants in Zakouma Park in southwestern Chad. Today there are 450.

Poaching of elephants for their ivory has been tragically common in this country riven by civil war, and it is only to be expected that the remaining elephants are extremely wary of humans. Surprisingly, a herd of about 20 bull elephants near Zakouma headquarters appears to have some residual trust in humans.

Perhaps sensing that there was safety to be had near the house of Park Manager Rian Labuschagne, the small herd had started coming to a small nearby waterhole. One day, when the elephants remained only 15 metres (50 feet) away, Labuschagne—knowing how elephants like clean water—started spraying them with water from the hose.

What followed was very unexpected. In a rather touching show of trust, a few of the elephants walked right up to Labuschagne and started drinking from the hose he held in his hand.

Zakouma's elephants are among the last remaining populations in the entire Sudano-Sahelian region, and their survival is considered crucial. They are also particularly difficult to protect. During the wet season, they leave the safety of the park, ranging over as much as 170 km (105 miles). Some of Zakouma's elephants have been fitted with satellite collars, allowing a well-equipped and well-trained patrol unit to follow the herds on a daily basis. In addition, there is an extensive radio communications system and a network of bush airstrips, allowing for rapid deployment of anti-poaching teams.

Despite such efforts, poachers still managed to kill seven Zakouma elephants in late 2011. This, however, is less than the 39 elephants killed by poachers in Chad the year before—and a far cry from the 450 elephants killed by sophisticated poaching operations in neighbouring Cameroon in early 2012.


Asian elephant drinking from a hose at Smithsonian Zoological Park,
Washington, D.C.
Source: http://tvblogs.nationalgeographic.com/2010/04/30/asian-elephant-shower/


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

Saturday, 19 May 2012

Elephant No. 230: Poubellisme





One of my close friends commented last week that she particularly liked the elephants I made from utilitarian objects, or from things destined for the trash. So today I decided to make an elephant from detritus I picked up along city sidewalks.

Usually known as "junk art" or "trash art", poubellisme derives its name from the French word for garbage can, poubelle. This type of art is most often produced as a commentary on our throwaway societies, and is far less common in countries in which virtually everything is recycled and reused within an inch of its life.

Poubellisme derives from the "found art" tradition, which involves repurposing something that has a non-art function into a work of art. The most commonly cited examples of found art are Marcel Duchamp's "readymades", which include the famous Fountain (1917), consisting simply of a porcelain urinal lying on a pedestal.

Poubellisme technically involves picking up trash and using it to make art. Most artists working in this genre, however, gather materials from scrap yards as well. As I discovered myself, if you live in a relatively clean city, it's virtually impossible to rely on sidewalk detritus for your raw materials.


Trojan Horse II by Willie Bester, 1994.
Source: http://beyondvictoriana.com/2010/04/25/beyond-victoriana-24-african-
junk-artist-willie-besters-apartheid-laboratory/


For today's elephant, I walked through my own neighbourhood and part of the city's downtown, picking up any bits of metal or glass I came across. I limited myself to those two categories, because I liked the idea of working with durable, hard materials.

I discovered that I live in an incredibly clean city. The street-sweeping crews have already been through most streets, cleaning up the bits of garbage which surface following spring thaw. This meant that there wasn't much to find. The greatest quantity of metal was bottlecaps, and the greatest quantity of glass was broken beer bottles—and even those were relatively sparse. To be honest, I was shocked at how little I found. Even nearby construction sites yielded next to nothing.

It was an interesting experience gathering the material, too. In this part of the world, only weirdos are expected to pick up stuff on city sidewalks and streets—unless, of course, it's money. The lowly penny clearly doesn't count, because I found a few of those as well.

As a reasonably well-dressed person picking up bottlecaps and soda-can tabs, to say nothing of bits of broken beer bottle, I got my share of strange looks. Only one person commented, however. When I turned around to pick up a large broken metal ring, a city worker said, "I thought you'd found a horseshoe!" He thought this was very funny, so I laughed too. Sometimes it's important to present yourself as not-a-weirdo in order to continue doing bizarre things.

When I got my loot home, the first thing I did was soak it all in hot water. I was particularly careful not to stick myself with anything, because today didn't feel like the kind of day I wanted to spend in an emergency room waiting for a tetanus booster. After I'd soaked everything, I also scrubbed it and doused it in alcohol. The friend who likes repurposed junk would be proud of my efforts to destroy any lurking cooties.

This is the collection of junk I ended up with. I thought briefly about supplementing it with bits of similar stuff I have around the house, but decided that would be cheating. Instead, I'd just have to see what I could make from this.








At first I thought I should force myself to use every last bit of this, in one way or another. Then I decided I'd simply use as much as I could. The only rule was that I couldn't further alter anything by bending or cutting or breaking it.

The most obvious piece to start with was the flattened piece of rust. This looked to me like a perfect elephant-head outline, so I laid that down first.




A couple of the steel pieces looked like they'd work well to flesh out the head, so I placed those next, along with a rusty bolt for the eye area.




To finish the head, I used the remaining steel pieces, the aluminum pull tabs, and a sliver of mirror for the ear, and inserted a tiny bolt to add a bit of definition to the eye.




Other than bottle caps, that was pretty much it for all the metal bits I had, except for the large broken ring and the massive nut-and-bolt assemblage. Those both proved too large for this particular elephant, so I set them aside. This meant that I was left with bits of glass, a few scraps of broken porcelain, three pennies, and some bottle caps.

It took me a few minutes to figure out how to place these in order to make the elephant's body. It was somewhat harder than I expected, but certainly not frustrating or annoying. Once the body was more or less as good as I could get it, I added a sliver of white porcelain to the elephant's face as a tusk.

The hardest part of this activity was finding enough stuff lying on the street. Although people always comment on how clean a city this is, I was a little surprised to find out how true that is. 

Cleaning the bits of junk also took a bit of time, but wasn't hard by any means. As for putting it all together, it was relatively easy, particularly because I had that nice piece of rust to use as a starting point. From the time I started placing things, it took me about 30 minutes, so it's not time-consuming or terribly difficult.

At some point I may glue everything down, but for today I liked the fact that it's ephemeral—just like the trash from which it's made.





Elephant Lore of the Day
While looking at a database that tracks elephant populations in zoos and circuses around the world, I was surprised to come across the names of elephants residing at a garbage dump in Sri Lanka. At first I thought this was a mistake, or perhaps a strange mistranslation of an elephant sanctuary of some sort. But no, this is actually a garbage dump with elephants that are known by name.

Many garbage dumps in Sri Lanka have retinues of so-called "garbage elephants". Tempted by the easy pickings, the elephants live pretty much right at the dump, feasting on discarded fruits, vegetables, bread and sweets.

At the town of Hambantota on Sri Lanka's southeastern coast, this became a problem—albeit not really through any fault of the elephants. Following the December 2004 tsunami that had swept away most of Hambantota, the town had cleared away a large area of elephant habitat north of the old town, and had built hundreds of homes on the land.

The jungle, and the dump lying smack in the middle of it, had been home to about ten male elephants of varying ages. Because the new houses were built relatively close to the dump, the elephants had become a danger to the area's new human residents. The elephants took to wandering among the houses, occasionally raiding gardens and even kitchens.

Deluged with complaints, the Department of Wildlife Conservation decided to relocate the elephants into a protected area, 50 kilometres (30 miles) away as the crow files. What they didn't contend with was an elephant's strong homing instincts.

One of the elephants had been fitted with a tracking collar, to monitor how well it took to its new home. However, as soon as this particular elephant shook off his travel-related sedation, he made a beeline in the direction of Hambantota. Within hours, he had come up against the electric fence that ran along the boundary of the reserve. Unable to break through the 12,000-volt impediment, the elephant—nicknamed Homey—spent the next day walking up and down alongside the fence.

Discovering a section of the fence that was only electrified at certain hours, Homey broke through and moved rapidly southwest. He ran through fields and villages, and even passed another garbage dump, without breaking stride.

By the following morning, he had reached the coast, and spent the day in hiding in Bundala National Park. That night he took off at a run again, and was back at his favourite garbage dump in Hambantota by dawn the next day.

Two months after the forced relocation, there were again ten elephants at the dump at Hambantota. While authorities weren't sure how many were escaped returnees, they suspect that Homey might not have been the only one.


Homey back at the Hambantota garbage dump.
Source: http://www.ccrsl.org/CCR/Stories/ElephantHomey.htm




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







Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Elephant No. 227: Plastic Canvas




This is not the type of craft to which I normally gravitate, but I saw plastic canvas in a discount store last week, and it occurred to me that this might be a relatively quick thing to try for an elephant. I know how to do needlepoint, and this looked more or less the same—or that was the hope, anyway.

Plastic canvas—also known as "vinyl weave"—is a lightweight plastic material with grid similar to embroidery canvas. Because of its rigidity, it is often used to create three-dimensional objects such as boxes, purses, and even dollhouses. Most of the plastic canvas things I've been given are flat fridge magnets.

To embroider plastic canvas, you use many of the same stitches as needlepoint. Because the holes in plastic canvas tend to be larger than in needlepoint canvas—7, 10 or 14 holes to the inch—a heavier wool or acrylic yarn is used. The canvas can also be cut into stiff shapes that don't fray, making it ideal for building complicated constructions.


Plastic canvas gingerbread house.
Source: http://minnie-allxxs.blogspot.ca/p/other-crafts.html


In addition to embroidering plastic canvas, the material is sometimes used to build the heads of animal mascots. The rigid plastic mesh provides a lightweight structure onto which fake fur or fleece is then glued.

For today's elephant, I bought a small sheet of plastic canvas for $1.29 at a discount store. This piece has seven holes to the inch. I also bought a skein of grey acrylic yarn for $1.00.





For a pattern, I originally thought I would just make a flat elephant outline in plastic canvas. Then I came across something called "squeezies"—also known as "kissies" and "squeezums". The idea behind these is that, when you squeeze the sides of the face, the mouth opens to reveal a wish, a small gift, or a treat—most traditionally, a Hershey's chocolate kiss. This made me decide that, if I was going to be making something with plastic canvas, it might as well be something that is pretty much made only with plastic canvas.

The hard part was finding a pattern for making one of these. I didn't have time to find a book, and I couldn't figure out how they worked without some sort of template. Luckily, I came across a simple bird design on the Craft Elf website. This great little tutorial told me everything I needed to know about making the basic structure.

Next, I needed to figure out how to make an elephant. The bird is a very simple three-sided figure; adding large ears and a trunk might prove more difficult. Then I saw an elephant squeezie made by Kathy Cook, which gave me enough visual help to allow me to figure it out on my own.

Following the instructions on the Craft Elf site, I cut a small square of plastic canvas measuring 10 holes by 10 holes. Because the instructions said that I would have to sew things onto this, I cut a lower jaw that was 10 holes by 10 holes at the top, tapering longer after that, since it didn't have to attach anything.

To make the front of the elephant's head, I laid the jaw piece on the plastic canvas, and traced an elephant-head outline that was large enough to match the lower jaw, while also accommodating the piece for the back of the head. The instructions said that I needed smooth edges on the outside for ease in binding, but that would have made for a strange elephant outline, so I figured I'd just deal with the edges later.




To cover the plastic canvas, I cross-stitched grey yarn over each intersection in the grid.




The photograph below shows what it looked like when all three pieces of canvas had been covered with cross-stitching.




I was now ready to begin construction. I started with the easiest join, attaching the lower jaw to the back of the head with three simple stitches in each hole.





When that was done, I bound the edges of all pieces that would remain structurally unattached. I did this now, because I figured it would be a lot harder when everything was attached.





Next came the most challenging part of this whole thing: attaching the back of the head (with jaw attached) to the front of the elephant's head. I think this is probably relatively easy when you don't have ears and a trunk to contend with. It's probably a little less so when you have to force—and hold—stiff pieces of yarn and plastic canvas where they don't necessarily want to stay. To secure this, I whipstitched through the white edge in the back piece, then through the front of the elephant's head, and back again.





This is what it looked like when finished.





Of course, it wouldn't be a "squeezie" if its mouth didn't open, so I tried it, just to be sure. It has a surprisingly firm grip when closed.




When I started this activity today, I didn't think I'd like it. I also didn't think I'd care for the final result. But this little guy actually appeals to me. At nearly four hours, it took me longer than it would have done if I'd just made something flat and small; however, most of that time was spent on cross-stitching, rather than final construction.




To give this a more finished look, I may embroider some eyes, and add a bit of pink inside the ears. I would also need to cover up the back of the ears, since all you see at the moment is the untidy underside of my cross-stitching. But for now, it looks just fine to me.

Now that I know how these are made, I may even make a few more. I kind of like the toy-like mechanism, and it's such a silly object that it makes me laugh.







Elephant Lore of the Day
Elephants are quite adaptable, and will quickly become acclimatized to the presence of people in the wild. Unfortunately, this also means that they can also become a little too familiar.

Just as bears can become accustomed to the easy food available around campsites, elephants in areas frequented by safaris can also become bold and destructive. Throughout Africa, there have been numerous incidents of elephants sniffing out fruit and other foods left in tents. To get at the tasty treats, an elephant will sometimes try to reach in and extract what it wants. More often, however, it will push at the tent with tusks and trunk, destroying the flimsy structure in its frustration.

Wild elephants will normally smell humans and avoid them; there are, however, many elephants that have grown accustomed to snatching food from farms and campsites. In North America, bears that become too used to human food at campsites are often euthanized. I'm not sure what the policy is about elephants that become accomplished tent raiders, but it can't be good for either elephants or humans.

The video below shows an African elephant making its way methodically through a small safari campsite, exploring everything in a quest for food—even the coffee cups held by a couple of campers.




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

Sunday, 13 May 2012

Elephant No. 224: Hammered Aluminum Can




Lately I've been noticing a lot of aluminum cans flattened on the road, and it occurred to me that it might be interesting to try hammering an aluminum can into an elephant shape.

Hammered aluminum was a highly popular material for housewares from the 1930s through the 1960s. In my own collection, I have a couple of hammered platters and colourful anodized aluminum drinking glasses. Touted as an easy-care alternative to silver, hammered aluminum eventually fell out of favour. Today, vintage aluminum ware is enjoying something of a resurgence, with pieces that sold for a dollar or so even a few years ago now going for anywhere from ten to 200 times that.


Typical hammered aluminum platter.
Source: http://www.etsy.com/listing/92891160/hammered-aluminum-
metal-tray-with-deer


That was not the kind of aluminum I was looking to make today, and I was a bit surprised to discover that no one seems to be mashing aluminum cans into shapes. People appear to make only two kinds of art with aluminum cans: flat, hammered surfaces that are then painted, decorated or assembled; or opened and flattened cans that are cut into shapes.


Meanfish crushed and painted aluminum can.
Source: http://www.cutoutandkeep.net/projects/crushed_can_art


Since I'd already done the opened-and-cut-into-shapes thing for my mobile a few months ago, I didn't feel like doing that again. And I didn't want to simply flatten an aluminum can and paint on it. What I really wanted to do was hammer an aluminum can into an elephant shape.

I'd saved four aluminum cans to play with, because I was sure I wasn't going to be successful the first time. I also didn't know yet if I was going to have troubles with the more rigid top and bottom, or if I'd need more than one aluminum can to make an elephant.




For hammers, I pulled out both a 16 oz. carpenter's hammer, and a chasing hammer for finer details. I thought briefly about using non-marking hammers, but then decided that chipped paint might add something to it.





Because I wanted to make this as much like an aluminum can smashed under a car's tires, I started hammering away at the first can without cutting the ends off.





I was pretty brutal about trying to crush one of the ends into the tip of a trunk, but the ends are very thick in comparison to the flimsy sides, so I wasn't entirely successful. There was no way this was going to get this much thinner, without some kind of major crushing machine.




The other thing I quickly discovered is that the thinner material that forms the body of the can is just plain weird. It's as if it's not metal at all. It doesn't smash down entirely flat, doesn't like to crumple very well, and becomes extremely brittle almost right away. I've hammered silver, steel and copper, but I've never seen anything quite like this.

Because of its brittleness, there's only so much hammering you can do before the metal actually starts falling apart. It tears along the smallest folds and splits under any kind of strain, so there comes a point at which you have to leave well enough alone.

For the ears, I started by hand-crimping a second aluminum can. Try as I might, however, I couldn't form ears as long as I had to contend with the thick round ends. If the body of the can had been a bit longer, I might have been able to fold the ends towards the centre, but the round ends were just a bit too large in diameter. After about 20 minutes of fiddling with it, folding, refolding and crimping, I gave in and cut the ends off with a pair of scissors.




This left me with a metal tube, which was relatively simple to hand-crimp and shape into ears and a forehead. I slotted this structure into a gap that had opened in the top of the trunk area, and squeezed things with my fingers to make it stay together. It doesn't stay together nicely—as it would if it were aluminum foil or tin or steel—but I could live with it.

To finish, I shaped a bit of a tusk and left it at that. I did try another elephant with the silver soda cans, this time cutting off the ends right away. Strangely, this was even less successful, and ended up looking a bit like an aluminum albatross. It was so unprepossessing that I didn't even bother to photograph it.

I didn't mind this activity, but I wish I'd known how uncooperative the material would be. It took me about 45 minutes to make the green elephant head, and if I actually decide to keep it, I'll have to add glue or rivets or something to attach it more securely. I don't dare hammer it any further: hammering would only make it more brittle and friable, without making it any more solid.

I was surprised that I didn't cut myself once, although it's certainly not an activity to try with children. I didn't really mind making this elephant, but it's not something I'd rush to try again, primarily because of the weirdness of the material. On the other hand, I am slightly tempted by the idea of running over a couple of soda cans with my car, just to see if it makes the metal any easier to work with.






Elephant Lore of the Day
It's Mother's Day today, so it seemed appropriate to write about elephant mothers.

As research continues to show, elephant mothers—like those of many other species—are no less devoted to their little ones than human mothers. They will fight off packs of predators, profoundly grieve the loss of a baby and, in one notable instance, even beat up a nasty old train.

Nor is this devotion limited to the mother alone. In the video below, a herd of female elephants works tirelessly to save a tiny calf from drowning. As the baby struggles helplessly, various elephants try to pull it out of the water, hold it above the surface, and push it up the banks of the waterhole.

When all of these efforts fail, a pair of elephants enter the water and, squeezing the calf between them, transport it to safety.





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