Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

April 2, 2016

"Papa Pasquale" festival selections.

"Papa Pasquale", my animated short about the amazing life of Italian-Canadian Pat Folino and his twelve siblings, has been honoured by two more festival selections.

Official film poster with laurels, yay!

The 49th Annual Humboldt International Film Festival has chosen my film in the animation category; it will screen in Arcata, CA, April 20th to 23rd 2016.  I think this festival is cool because not only have they been going since 1967, but they seek films that inspire social and environmental change. AND they have a special award called the Ledo Matteoli Award for Best Film with an Immigration Theme. Hurrah! Fingers and toes crossed for that.

I'm also thrilled to announce that "Papa Pasquale" has been officially selected by the Italian Contemporary Film Festival! It's an annual celebration of Italian heritage, arts and culture, taking place June 9 - 17, 2016 in a number of Canadian cities including: Toronto, Vaughan, Niagara, Hamilton, Montreal and Quebec City. Since I'm half Italian (the top half), this selection means so much to me. I'm excited about the film potentially screening in multiple locations. More people should know about the Folinos' amazing story.



December 28, 2015

Newf Puppy.

Some people are dog-people: their lives are enriched with a quadruped in their inner circle. I am one of those people. This little guy represents the next 15 years of joy, warmth, fur clusters and top quality slobber. Coming to us early in the new year thanks to and via some very amazing people. And I can hardly wait :two_hearts:
Newfoundland boy puppy, 8 weeks old. 
What's he thinking? What shall I name him? Caption, if it pleases thee, in the comments.

Comments are here.


September 20, 2015

Finishing my new film, "Papa Pasquale".

Picture-lock. Final mix. Final outputs. After three months of 90 hour weeks, it's time to push this baby out.


"Papa Pasquale" is an animated short about a family of immigrants to Canada from Italy, set in the 1950's. The film will have a private screening gala celebration in Toronto on September 24th (Next week!). There will be some members of the Italian community, some press, and I heard there will also be a few Canadian dignitaries present. I'll be a guest there, but the focus will not be on me; it will be on this incredible family, the subject of the film. Still, I will really enjoy watching their reactions, and meeting them for the first time.

It's a timely release, as we are now in an election in Canada - a country made up of First Nations and immigrants from all over the world - immigration being quite a topical issue at the moment. 

Excitement.

Comments are here.


April 29, 2015

Turning invisible.


When there's a death, there follows an immediate cluster of support and love.


This cluster begins to fall away a few weeks after the death; people are busy, they have their own lives, money worries and health issues to think about. The epicenter of grief puts on a brave face, a mask for the most part.


Months pass and life goes on.


Except for the crumbling inside. The missing. The opening your Skype and seeing their familiar face in your contacts, as if you might be able to reach them wherever they are in the beyond.


It's not the easy choice to remain close to the epicenter. We must allow our lives to fall away - work, play, Internet - so that we may hover nearby, and silently bolster. And that's why you haven't seen much of me lately. I'm turning invisible.


But I'll be back.


Comments are here.


March 5, 2015

The Footprint - Trailer


My company, Little Animation, makes earth-friendly animated educational content for children. And when I say "my company" I really mean "my family". It's like an animation mom'n pop shop over here.

Our latest project has been a few years in production, (due to being independently financed) and now I'm thrilled to report The Footprint is completed.

The official trailer:


The official description:
"The Footprint is a 21 min. animated film featuring Earth, Little Rosie (from the Little Earth Charter) and special guest Org, a cave-kid from prehistoric times. Org accidentally time-travels to the present day where he notices that there's plenty of everything! With a little help from the narrator, Rosie and Earth teach Org about his eco-footprint. The story is a playful introduction to sustainability issues such as water, food, clothes, transportation, toys, and energy, with a little musical segment on each. The take-away is to avoid wastefulness, with a few tips and tricks along the way. An educational project for children aged 4-8."
It's available for institutional distribution (schools, libraries etc) by CinéFête, and just in time for Earth Day - April 22nd.

Props to Cindy Filipenko for her excellent writing, the wonderful Rosie Emery for inspiration, the Oscar nominated Alexei Kharitidi for his design, storyboards and animation, my fearless editor Robert Yates, Oisín Little (The Huz) for awesome sound design and music, our three terrific children for the vocal characterizations of Rosie and Org, and my brother Colin Pearson for his exuberant voice-over skillz (which some of you may recognize).

I'll probably make The Footprint available for homevideo download via Gumroad. If you're interested in this, let me know.



August 25, 2014

Growth spurt.

When I was busy blinking, the fourteen-year-old boy grew. Again.


Looks like we're going to have to go shopping for some back-to-school clothes. Should I get two sizes larger than he needs?


July 17, 2014

Half-Italian.

I'm half Italian. The top half. Which makes buying a bikini all kinds of challenging; I always say that together, J-Lo and I make the ideal woman.


Back to the bit about me being half Italian. It is entirely my mother's fault. Both her parents are Italian, and their parents are also Italian. All this is why I find myself here in Italy with twelve other family members, namely my mom, my two brothers, and all our respective partners and offspring. It's a family heritage trip to the part of Italy from whence came my mother's maternal grandparents, my Bisnonno and Bisnonna.

I never met my Bisnonna as she died when my mom was a child. But I remember my Bisnonno fairly well; positively ancient and smelling faintly of parmesan he would ask if I thought he'd get into heaven when he died. Being a non-religious and slightly awkward ten year old with zero knowledge of Italian, I figured the best thing to do was to just keep nodding. I'm pretty sure he made it, because he was basically a good guy (though my Grandma did tell me that he slapped her in the face once for talking to a boy when she was a teenager - times have changed, yo) and from what I understand that's where good guys go who are Roman Catholic or whatever. Heaven. In case you got lost.

ANYWAYS. I just thought you guys might be wondering where I've been for the past three weeks. My great-grandparents were from near this part of Italy that I'm surrounded by. At the moment, I'm on a recliner beside a pool laid out in a beautifully landscaped villa property nestled in the Apennines, farmland and hills of Le Marche countryside, probably owned by British people. I say probably because one is never sure about who actually owns a vacation property. Is it the person you negotiated the rental with, or is it the person who's family photos are staring back at you from every horizontal and vertical surface in the main floor common rooms? I hate that! Seriously, one time we stayed in a vacation rental house in New Brunswick and the "in-laws" official silver anniversary photos were hung on the wall above the bed in the master bedroom. Not exactly conducive to sexy-time, if you know what I mean.


My mom went around the villa, collected all the family photos and put them in a cupboard. Sorry property owner family members! (Not really. We've paid enough money to enjoy this vacation in your crib without having you watch us).

When I say "enjoy" I really mean take turns having meltdowns. Here is a graph:


Are you still with me? Try and keep up because there might be a quiz later.

When you put thirteen (I know, I know) people together in a house in paradise, and the people are my family, you're tempting the most disastrous kind of fate. And fate did not shy away, unfortunately, it was most inconveniently forthcoming. Grown men transformed into macho babies, the food and wine that was meant to be an expression of love was turned into a weapon. Egos exploded left and right, bitter accusations borne of baggage long-dragged flew, tears were shed quietly behind closed doors and hearts... were fractured. I thanked the Universe or whatever that I had quit drinking a few months earlier, because I might have otherwise been sucked into the abyss.


And yet...there were gems. The birds, the hills, the people in Le Marche, the coffee, the shoes and handbags, tiny lizards running through the grass, humble corners of cobbled village streets, and the softest sunlight filtering down on everything. It was a sheer joy to watch the kids fling themselves into the food, the family and the pool in spite of the dramaz. My three year old nieceling was cousining for the first time in her young life, surrounded by five mostly teenagers.


But the best? Was hearing my mom speak Italian; the shining faces of the local people looking up to her and seeing one of their own. Ever the lady, unbroken and lovely, here in Italy. A worthy Matriarch.


Also I have a tan. A half-Italian one.

Follow #jcinitaly on my Instagram for more humble pics of Italy. Coming home in a few days. After that...California.


June 6, 2014

Quality FAMILY Time.

Four years ago, our Zombie Dishwasher finally gave up the ghost.


Since The Huz was doing most of the cooking, a fair chunk of the dish washing was done by ...yours truly.

But before you burst into tears of pity, let me tell you it hasn't been all bad. Sure, there are times when every single dish, glass, pot, cutlery and Tupperware in the kitchen has been used throughout the day, and every single able-bodied person mysteriously disappears after dinner. We're talking about the horrendous aftermath of breakfast, lunch, dinner and snackies, complete with crusted-on cement masquerading as cereal and the horrors of three day old tuna-sandwich plastic containers arising from the depths of an Eight Grader's school bag.

It's enough to give you the dry heaves (if you're lucky).


Rather than face it alone, I nag. I nag expertly. After a 30+ year career in animation production, making sure we get that commercial through the pipeline on time, under budget and with blow-the-client-away quality, I'm capable of world class nagging - I am a nagspert! Of course, animators are somewhat easier to herd than teenagers.


But eventually, during the first year of my unrelenting nagging to "COME AND HELP WITH THE DISHES", something very interesting began to happen. Dish washing time turned into one-on-one time. As I stood scrubbing and rinsing, my normally reticent teenagers would spill the beans about their day, their friends, their crushes and disappointments. The fresh linen in their hands methodically drying crockery still warm from the sink had a relaxing effect on them. I think it helped that I would stand facing the window, so there was no judgmental eye to cast aspersions. Whichever of my kids happened to be helping would soon begin leaking secrets and we began to know our children as people.


Washing dishes had become a safe place.

But that's not all. The Huz set up some speakers and a turntable in the kitchen and there was music. More than one teenager would join in with the clearing, and stacking and drying as I stood washing. We danced to the Beatles, The Jackson 5 and Elton John! We sang along to Grease and Rocky Horror! Old vinyl records were pulled out and played, the history of music was discussed, memories and stories emerged and our children began to know their parents as people.


Washing dishes had become fun.

There's more. The teenagers invited their friends and boyfriends over, who would stay for dinner and help with the dishes afterwards. Jokes, laughter and philosophical conversation flowed as the dirty dishes passed one by one through my soapy hands to wind up clean and dry in the cupboards.


And some days, most extraordinarily, The Huz and I will put our feet up and relax on the sofa while the kids do the dishes without us.


This story has been ripening in my head for four years. I've just come from the kitchen, singing a slew of Bee Gees songs with the seventeen-year-old girl. The sink is clean, the counter wiped and every dish has been scrubbed, dried and put away....tidied after a fashion.


I know that life isn't perfect; there are still days when no one comes to help and I just don't feel like nagging or washing dishes. On those days they get left in a pile until the next morning, and I'm okay with that.

I will never be tempted to trade my quality family time for a dishwasher. There are still memories waiting to be made washing dishes, and I know that soon enough, it will be just me and The Huz.

Do you have any fun stories about doing housework with your family?


May 5, 2014

Cartoon Beginnings.

Apparently today, the 5th of May, is National Cartoonists Day. In honour of that, I pulled a story from one of my speaker keynotes and dressed it up for you, to show you my humble cartoon beginnings.

*     *     *     *     *

I have drawn since before birth.


But the first time it dawned on me that I could make someone's life a tiny bit better with my drawings was when I was twelve.

When I was twelve we were living in Hong Kong.


My younger brother was very badly pigeon toed. So much so that he couldn't walk properly and had to have an operation on his legs to correct this.

I’ll spare you the gory details but suffice to say that while he was recovering from the surgery he was in a lot of pain - we weren't allowed to touch the bed – he had this special frame to hold the blanket off his legs. My mom said that even the weight of the sheet was painful.


Oops.

This was my little brother; normally so lively and annoying. But there he was only ten years old, looking so thin and pale and obviously in pain. It dismayed me to see him suffer.


So I drew a series of cartoons and comics to try to cheer him up...


…and make him smile.


It totally worked!

The kid was in a cast for many weeks, and had to learn how to walk all over again. By the time he was done, his legs were nice and straight and he had some mighty battlescars.

I asked my now-grown-up-brother if I could post this story here and he reminded me of all the drawings I put on his cast.


Apparently I even drew a cowboy gun and holster; I don't remember it, but it sounds just like the kind of thing I would do.

And here I am still drawing cartoons all these years later.

Did anything pivotal happen to you when you were a child, that shaped you towards who you are today?


March 31, 2014

Cartoon family!

My friend Stephanie Bonds, artist and owner of Boo Monkey Glassworks & Quilts, asked me to portrait her family, since they have a new baby. I thought it would be fun to do them as if they were an animated TV series.

I'll bet you're wondering why giraffe legs.

Do you think your family would make a fun animated TV series? What interesting character elements would you have? What would be your 'story driver'?

Cartoon family portraits start at $150. All prices are listed here. Contact me JC@littleanimation.com.


February 1, 2014

Just married...22 years ago.

We became engaged after one month of dating; we just knew. 

It's our 22nd wedding anniversary today and I'm feeling nostalgic. I went through the wooden box of treasures from our wedding back in 1992 and found a couple of cute things to share with you.

Ois and I did have some "official" fancy wedding invitations that my parents insisted on. But we wanted to do our own version too, so I drew this.


He doesn't look so enthusiastic about being glomped in this drawing; but I sure do!

Look, I did all the lettering by hand...


And these were our thank-you cards for the guests.


It's pretty cool to be able to spend the rest of my life together with this person. I'm pretty happy I found him - I mean, what if our paths had never crossed?

The HUZ figures we'll have 25 more years together; he reckons he'll be the first to pop his clogs. I don't know, but I can't bear to think about life without him.




That's Oisín in the video. He's pretty special. When you know, you just know, you know? 
Someday I'll draw the story of how we met in London.

Happy Anniversary, husband of my days, father of my children!


December 21, 2013

I am Santa.

SPOILER ALERT: Don't show this to your kids if they still believe. 

Usually I'm too busy to contribute to Neil's Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concerts, and this year is no exception. But last night, at around 11 PM, I thought I'd throw some animation together with this Christmas lullaby I wrote for my kids when they were little.

Yeah, I was thinking maybe just a couple of drawings...but when I next looked up from my animation, it was 6 o'clock in the morning. Oopsies.

Guys, I did it again.

The song is called "I am Santa" and it riffs off the idea that these kids are supposed to be good in order to get treats. By the way, I subscribe to the philosophy that people should just be good, period. Parenting is hard. It's hard to teach little people how to be good. It's hard to watch them grow up and not need you anymore...

When I wrote this song, my daughters were eight and eleven years old, so they already had inklings about Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. But my son was only five and even though he sang along with a big smile whenever I played it, he didn't actually figure out what it was about until he was ten.



Uh.... now I'm nervous. Because it's just a dinky little acoustic recording. But whatever, it's from the heart and the thirteen-year-old boy loved it. So this is for him.

For a splendid array of seasonal spirit, songs, poems and videos by real authentic actual people, go see Neil's Eight Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert, CitizenoftheMonth. It's one of the best blogs out there, at any time of year, and I'm not just saying that.


September 23, 2013

Sketchy memories.

I was hunting for a lost poem today, looking through my old journals, diaries and sketchbooks. I found this one little book from 2002 with drawings of my kids, and little notes about them. It brought me back in a way that no photograph can.

The eldest daughter was nearly eight. She was always practicing her violin.


She was a tiny little person. Small but perfectly formed.


It's hard to believe she's now nineteen and going to University.


And this daughter was only five at the time.


Even then she was fastidious about her clothes; everything had to be fancy, velvet, sparkley or shiny. She's still got definite ideas about fashion now that she's sixteen.

Children move a lot, and ink on paper is unforgiving. See how I noted my error of proportions on her face?


This was my son, at two. He was a jolly little fellow!

I was going to clean up the pages a little in Photoshop, because you can see right through them to the writing on the other side. But I decided to just leave it...after all, it's only a sketchbook.


The Huz, in a quiet moment.


I loved to watch my children. I felt that if I could fill my eyes up with them, I'd never forget the joy they gave me.


So many memories.


March 8, 2013

The chain.

This chain is matriarchal.


Celebrate women on International Women's Day, and every day.


February 12, 2013

6 Moments of life.

This is Shelagh. Sometimes she talks me off the ledge.




My brother came to town. He was just sitting on the sofa unwinding and catching me up on his life in Toronto.



The 12 year old boy got his hair cut.



Our 15 year old daughter has copper locks. I was happy to find her without mascara.



I went to see The Huz playing bass in Carolyn Fe's Blues Collective at the House of Jazz. Carolyn always brings a fan onstage.



My friend Kayo at her going-away-dinner. She's leaving Montreal, returning to Japan. We didn't spend enough time together while she was here and it makes me sad.



These are moments of life.