Amherst Storybook Project: Digital Sketches, Batch 2 of 3

As I continue working on the Amherst Storybook Project, it's daunting to catalog the number of hours I've spent researching and scouring the web for just the right images to bring my digital sketches to life! And from there, each piece of artwork begins with 5+ variations on directions I can take it. Yet at some point along the way, it all boils down to one perfectly balanced image for each. (If only I could hurry up the process!)

Here are four more of the artworks I've chosen to reimagine for the project. I cannot wait to begin casting our dancers inside these colorful, fanciful landscapes!

1) Are the dancers bursting from the dots? Or the dots bursting from the dancers?

Digital sketch of Sunali Rae Driver's artwork. Age 2, going on 3.

2) As soon as this one fell into place, all I could think was "Honey Hands." Perhaps this will be its new title moving forward...

Digital sketch of Emilia K. Mann's artwork. Age 17.

3) Marit's work is so creative and clever to begin with, that it's caused a lot of indecision on my end. Should the fish be gasping at a mystical mermaid casually swimming by? Or having stumbled into a school of divers?

Digital sketch of Marit Gubrium's artwork. Age 7.

Digital sketch of Marit Gubrium's artwork. Age 7.

4) I can't pinpoint the exact cause, but for some reason this image reminds me so much of one of my favorite books: Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. Maybe it's the strange way the dancers are locomoting through the woods, or that the environment itself is surreal and jungly. Whatever it is, this image feels delightfully explorative to me.

Digital sketch of Tsukiko Tome Bhowmik's artwork.
The artist is now 7, though this work was created earlier in her childhood.

Stay tuned for more sketches throughout July, then the final photographs from overhead will debut in August!

Luminarium's Amherst Storybook Project is supported in part by a grant from the Amherst Cultural Council.

Amherst Storybook Project: First Digital Sketches

As we move forward onto the next stage of the Amherst Storybook Project, here are a few "digital sketches" of four of the submitted artworks I've chosen to reinterpret through video projection and dance. We've received some truly beautiful, colorful, and creative works over the past few months, and as I lay out these digital sketches, I'm thrilled to watch our upcoming August photoshoot becoming more and more clear...

Digital sketch of Maya G.'s artwork. Age 2.

Digital sketch of Hayden Rodrigues' artwork. Age 7.

Digital sketch of Johanna R. Guiod's artwork. Age 12.
Submitted from Karen Gaudette's 6th grade art class, Greenfield Middle School. 

Digital sketch of Libby Smith's artwork. Age 5.

Stay tuned for more sketches throughout July, then the final photographs from overhead will debut in August!

Luminarium's Amherst Storybook Project is supported in part by a grant from the Amherst Cultural Council.

Not all detours...

Today's entry will be brief, but will hopefully strike a chord...

It seems there are moments—when things just aren't clicking—that our normal habits shift for the better. A missed turn finds us walking down an unfamiliar Boston side street with a hidden cupcake bakery—the perfect gift for the somber friend we're about to meet. Or a missed train causes us to run into an old acquaintance. Both of these moments have happened to me in the past six months, and both were unexpected examples of frustration turned to gratitude.

A cupcake from my most favorite cupcake shop ever: Lulu's Sweets.
North End, Boston. Photo: Merli V. Guerra.
(Find more like this on my Instagram!)

This weekend I stood in line holding the first step in making my much-anticipated prop for The Phoenix Piece: a full bolt of Casa Collection satin fabric. Excited to find a full 10 consecutive yards on sale, my day couldn't get any better. (This is a rarity, and I'll need 4 of these 10-yard cuts to complete my prop.) Yet as the ditzy clerk quickly half-listened to my instructions, I watched as the store's only bolt was cut at a much-too-short-to-use 8 yards.

My mood sank. It was as if I'd found the most beautiful coat of my dreams at a thrift store, only to have the cashier accidentally lop off one sleeve as they rang it up.

Frustrated with the time, effort, and fabric now wasted, I called around to find another store. Again, my efforts were rewarded, though it meant a considerable trip out of my way to track down a new bolt. As I stepped into line, the woman in front of me (joking with those in front of her) mentioned the old adage "measure twice, cut once." "If only that had happened for me!" I replied. Before I knew it, I had met an incredible woman whose theatre and art interests paralleled my own. I had the pleasure of chatting with her through two lines, and by the end, had made a new friend in the arts!

So while today's entry is brief, let it serve as a small reminder that not all detours lead to endless frustration. Remain open to the surprises these new paths may bring...

The Phoenix Piece: First thoughts behind the work

It's mid-May, and rehearsals are about to commence for Luminarium's feature production of its celebratory 5th season: Spektrəl. For the first time in a long time, I'm feeling the need to create a piece that's lengthy. A piece that has weight and substance, but can also be broken down into separate sections. As far as memory serves, the closest piece that resembles this urge is my 2013 work Hush (or as many refer to it, "The boxes piece"), yet even this isn't quite what my creative urges have in mind. Still, rather than worrying if the end result will be a success—or if working outside my comfort zone will prove too large a challenge—I've decided to begin by writing out the reasons behind this piece, in the hopes that it will help me solidify its corresponding movement.

For more than two years, I've balanced two jobs that each have the following workflow: 1) The post-crash lull / a chance to catch my breath; 2) Restoring my body and mind (restocking the fridge, catching up on laundry, and taking time to do the "silly little things" I find calming and enjoyable); 3) That first fresh burst of creativity: Jumping into a new project with joy, excitement, and a mind that never stops running; 4) The swift, fast-paced race towards the finish line that ultimately leads to being pushed past the point of exhaustion / living on adrenaline (and the determination to succeed) alone to make it through; 5) Deadline reached: The crash / The burnout. Be it designing a magazine or preparing for a show (or the rare occurrence of managing both at once!), I feel—once I've crossed that finish line—as though my brain, body, and spirit have been burnt to a crisp. It's as if I'm one of my orchids, petals dropped, needing time to just sit quietly for a period before I can grow that new stem and begin the process all over again. 

So believe it or not, while "burnout" is certainly a key element of my inspiration, I'm more accurately aiming to create a piece about the cyclical nature of regeneration—That with each burnout comes a chance to pause, reflect, then start fresh. And that while the burnout may be exhausting and damaging in the moment, the blaze preceding it is what pushes us to show our brightest colors, going beyond our comfort levels to cross that personal finish line.

It will thus come as no surprise that my working title for this quartet is "The Phoenix Piece," and that my costuming and artistic illusions on stage are reminiscent of this mythological counterpart.

Image: wikipedia.com

One last thought for this entry: The sheet.

I'm envisioning a lot of fabric for this piece, specifically a giant sheet that ultimately engulfs the dancer, but first appears at the start of the work spread across the stage. The piece will begin with the central character trapped beneath it, then finding a hole to pry herself through, gasping for air. As my thoughts on this sheet have expanded, I've come to realize its intriguing potential: The sheet is two-fold. At one moment, it smothers the central character, yet at the next, it becomes almost a security blanket for her—as if waking up the morning after a big production, feeling pummeled, but safe and cradled in one's own sheets.

So wish me luck with this big new endeavor! I'm eager to see what the production will bring, and even more eager to see what this piece will teach me about my own Phoenix moments in life.

Gluten-Free, Dairy-Free, FODMAP-Friendly, Coconut-Maple Panna Cotta

Whew. Could that title be any longer? Actually sure—with one simple substitute, this dish can even become vegan.* What's not to love?

Gluten-Free, Dairy-Free, FODMAP-Friendly, Coconut-Maple Panna Cotta
Photo: Merli V. Guerra

I recently had the fun opportunity to host Easter dinner for a small gathering of family and friends (small by my Italian/Portuguese/French-Canadian standards equals nine people), with one tiny dilemma. One of our guests had spent the past year struggling with a sudden onset of dietary issues and was ultimately diagnosed with needing to follow the FODMAP diet. So while my boyfriend set forth to create a FODMAP-friendly meal (no small feat, might I add!), I was left pondering my own specialty: Dessert.

The thought process went a little something like this:
"So pastries, coffeecakes... I'm guessing those are out?"
"Right. I'm not technically celiac, but the FODMAP diet encourages me to be gluten-free, which seems to be working."
"Ok, maybe instead I can do some kind of chocolatey—"
"—Sorry!! I can't do chocolate."
"Ok, maybe a fruit salad?"
"Well... Most fruits I can't eat. Only a few I can. And I can eat berries, but not blackberries."
"Ok, racist-berry-eater, how about jello?"
"Hmmm... Let me check!" (And after a brief pause) "Actually, yes! Jello I can do."

So with gelatin now on the table, thus began my rush to the web to find the perfect dessert. After a little digging (and a lot of lip-smacking) various blogger recipes for coconut panna cotta began to catch my eye. Yet with honey off limits, I was thrilled to find one recipe with a maple syrup substitute that was finally 100% legal to my FODMAP-restricted delight.

My amazing roommate models the successful Easter desserts as our guests
likely wonder what's taking so long in the other room...
Photo: Merli V. Guerra 

A huge thank you to blogger The Detoxinista for her Easy Coconut Panna Cotta recipe. She's right—It's incredibly easy, requires just four ingredients (Coconut milk, pure maple syrup, pure vanilla extract, and gelatin), and took only about 20 minutes to make.

To give my dessert a little extra flair, I added a layer of
beautiful pure, golden maple syrup.
Photo: Merli V. Guerra

To add an extra splash of sweetness and artistry, I chose to make two batches of the panna cotta, allowing the first to set overnight in two beer flights. Next—and with science thankfully on my side—I pulled the gelled flights out in the morning, poured a quarter-inch of pure maple syrup into each, then immediately poured my second batch of panna cotta on top. Luckily, my guess was right! The syrup sank while the panna cotta liquid rose. Popping both flights back into the fridge to set for another 3–4 hours, I returned in time to serve them, adding a colorful smattering of berries and a sprinkle of sugar on top. The result was as visually successfully as it was tasty, and caused the bottom layer to most closely resemble a flan or French crème caramel. Truly an easy, dietarily-friendly dessert that I encourage everyone to try.

Photo: Merli V. Guerra

And for those trying to replicate this at home, here are a few tips:

• If you've never used pure coconut milk before, don't be too startled if you open the can and find it solidified! Just carve it into a pan and heat it gently until it liquefies, being careful not to boil it.
• Using two batches of The Detoxinista's recipe, I was able to comfortably fill ten 5-ounce tasting glasses. Don't forget to pick up extra syrup for the middle!
• *For those looking to make this a vegan dish, I'm told you can replace the gelatin with agar agar. Having never tried this myself, I welcome feedback on how this goes and what amount to use!

Enjoy...

Photo: Merli V. Guerra