{"id":2086,"date":"2011-02-27T00:01:16","date_gmt":"2011-02-27T06:01:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=2086"},"modified":"2011-02-27T00:48:23","modified_gmt":"2011-02-27T06:48:23","slug":"7-imps-7-kicks-208-featuring-il-sung-nacsw-rand-peter-brown-and-aaron-zenzin-which-it-becomes-very-clear-that-im-ready-for-spring-already","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=2086","title":{"rendered":"7-Imp’s 7 Kicks #208: Featuring Il Sung Na,
C.S.W. Rand, Peter Brown, and Aaron Zenz
(In Which There Are Cute Fluffy Bunny Sightings and
It Becomes Very Clear That I’m Ready for Spring Already)<\/font>"},"content":{"rendered":"


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“They give the signal to form a Bunny Circle.
Their ears touch and noses twitch, and they know what to do.”<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n

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(Click to enlarge)<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n

This post is probably the closest you’ll ever see to me talking about Cute Fluffy Bunnies in children’s book illustration, but quite clearly I’m ready for spring. All featured books today include bunnies of the fluffy and, quite possibly, cute variety (depending on your definition of “cute,” I guess). And I like all these bunnies, oh yes I do.<\/p>\n

I’ve previously featured at 7-Imp the work of Korean illustrator Il Sung Na<\/a><\/strong>—at this 2009 post<\/a><\/strong>, to be exact—who now lives and works in London. The second spread above is his. I’ve got more spreads this morning from his new book. He just ups the ante on beauty with each book, huh? But more on him in a second. First up is Big Bunny<\/a><\/strong><\/em> (from which that top illustration comes), written by mother-daughter duo Betseygail Rand (daughter) and Colleen Rand<\/a><\/strong> (mother) — and illustrated by Colleen, who goes by “C.S.W. Rand” in the illustration credit. <\/p>\n

This came from Tricycle Press this past January. Evidently, the author’s day job is professor of mathematics, and the mama’s day job is production photographer for a professional dance company and instructor of a life drawing class. <\/p>\n

This is an oddball little book. (Remember, in my brain’s world, this is a compliment.) It’s the story of a bunny, born in the spring “along with all the other Easter bunnies,” who grows hugely huge. She loves being big until it comes time to paint eggs and she realizes she’s too big to do so. The eggs break when she picks them up, and then to pour salt on an already open wound, she inadvertently sits on some Easter baskets. She hops away. Her peeps (sorry — couldn’t resist that) are sad, and they … get this … they sit in a circle, as depicted in the illustration opening this post, and communicate in this very odd, sort of communal manner in which they touch ears, twitch their noses, and read one another’s minds. Or so it seems. And what do they determine during this, their first psychic, mind-meld gathering? That they need to find Big Bunny and bring her home. (Well, “they know what to do” is how it’s worded, and MAN do I wish it were that easy to figure things out in life, but I digress.) And I don’t want to give away the entire story here. I’ll just add that the rather retro, minimalist art made me take a second look at the book—I’m going to show you some spreads here and let the art speak for itself—and that it looks like, I dunno, some lost 1940s Little Golden Book. That’s all. And also that I tend to fall hard and fall fast for stories about misfits. And—at the risk of sounding ungrateful for the here and the now, which I know I should be grateful for—lordhavemercy, I’m ready right at this moment for the warm, spring’y world depicted in this book. <\/p>\n


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“One baby bunny…grows and grows<\/font> and GROWS!<\/font>“<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n


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“…the bunnies learn how to paint eggs and weave baskets.”<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n


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“Late one starry night, they see a large shadowy shape with long droopy ears and a big puffy tail. They have found Big Bunny!”<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n


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“In the night hush…”<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n


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“Happy and tired, the little bunnies snuggle next to Big Bunny.
They close their eyes and sleep.”<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n

And, as for Il Sung Na’s beautiful new picture book title, Snow Rabbit, Spring Rabbit: A Book of Changing Seasons<\/a><\/em><\/strong> (Alfred A. Knopf, January 2011), I’m going to quote heavily here the experts — in this case, The New York Times<\/em>, who covered it just this week<\/a><\/strong>: <\/p>\n

\u201cWhimsy\u201d is a word that runs rampant in the description of children\u2019s literature, but Il Sung Na\u2019s picture books certainly merit the label. \u201cSnow Rabbit, Spring Rabbit\u201d is the latest of Na\u2019s deceptively simple storybooks…where a straightforward tale of nature or nighttime is elevated by distinctive illustration into a somewhat more enchanted realm than that of mere snowfall and frozen dirt…. Using a combination of painted oils, ink drawings and digital manipulation, Na\u2019s depiction of nature includes unexpected flourishes…. Each page\u2019s pictures advance the spare text, which is geared toward toddlers and young preschoolers, though the visuals may yet inspire an artistically minded kindergartner….<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

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This is about a rabbit who observes how other animals cope with winter. The book closes with the arrival of spring. And that’s that, text-wise. It’s the art that will blow you away. Na’s very textured, patterned artwork is the kind of art you want to take your time with and pore over with your favorite wee child. The patterns, layers, swirls, overlays, details, colors — it’s all worth looking closely at. It’s beautiful through and through, and again, I will let the art speak for itself, as in check out those turtle shells and woolly coats below, speaking of patterns. You can click each spread to supersize… <\/p>\n

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“Some swim to warmer waters…”<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n

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“While some have a thick woolly coat . . . they can stay in the snow!”<\/em><\/center>
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* * * * * * *<\/center><\/p>\n

SNOW RABBIT, SPRING RABBIT: A BOOK OF CHANGING SEASONS. Copyright \u00a9 2010 by Il Sung Na. First American Edition copyright \u00a9 2011. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Alfred A. Knopf, New York.<\/em><\/p>\n

BIG BUNNY. Text copyright \u00a9 2011 by Betseygail Rand and Colleen Rand. Illustrations \u00a9 2011 by C.S.W. Rand. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Tricycle Press, New York.<\/em><\/p>\n

As a reminder, 7-Imp’s 7 Kicks is a weekly meeting ground for taking some time to reflect on Seven(ish) Exceptionally Fabulous, Beautiful, Interesting, Hilarious, or Otherwise Positive Noteworthy Things from the past week, whether book-related or not, that happened to you. <\/p>\n

* * * Jules’ Kicks * * *<\/strong><\/font>
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I think this is a really necessary week to focus on some kicks, dear readers. It’s been a loss’y kind of week. I know. I just made up that adjective and should actually consult a thesaurus sometimes. My apologies for not being more eloquent. I got news that a really beautiful, brilliant artist and mother I used to know in East Tennessee lost her fight against breast cancer; nightmarishly, my nephew’s newborn son, one of a set of twins, died from SIDS early this week after just a mere six weeks in this world; and the kidlitosphere is reeling from the loss of YA author L.K. Madigan<\/a><\/strong>. Rest in peace, Kim, Levi, and Lisa. I don’t mean to bring the room down when we tend to celebrate on these Sunday mornings, but sometimes, just because you can, you want to mark these moments in time and space with a moment of reverent silence. <\/p>\n

…<\/strong><\/font><\/p>\n

And then you want to count your blessings, as they say, and kick back and notice the big and little things that bring joy, which I’m glad you all join me weekly in doing here at this spot in cyberspace — for many reasons, but mostly because none of us really knows how long we have on this brilliant ball of ice and fire hanging out in space. (Ack! Also NOT ELOQUENT, but let’s just carry on…)<\/p>\n

1).<\/font> Ask me how much I love this story: My friend’s two young boys (very close to my girls’ ages) were having breakfast, and the seven-year-old said, “black holes blow my mind.” And his younger brother, all of four years old, said, “you know what blows my mind? Love.” Where do I even begin? I laughed outloud—a veritable HOOT—when I read that. Best laugh of the week, in fact. As I told my friend, it’s like Carl Sagan meets John Lennon at a breakfast bar. Over mimosas. So perfect.<\/p>\n

1\u00bd).<\/font> The 2011 Children’s Book Week poster<\/a><\/strong>, as rendered by Peter Brown<\/a><\/strong>:<\/p>\n

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2).<\/font> Finished Voyage of the Dawn Treader<\/em> with the six-year-old. I’ll always remember reading the end of that book myself and how it gave me chills—the Sea People, the very end of the world and its smooth green slope, the vanishing of Reepicheep, the girl under the water that Lucy saw—and so reading it to her was, quite frankly, magical and made me feel all warm and tingly inside.<\/p>\n

3).<\/font> More Elbow<\/a><\/strong>! Here!<\/a><\/strong> Another performance! New song from the upcoming CD! At The Guardian<\/em>! I’m using those exclamation marks just for Guy Garvey. Have I mentioned he’s a genius? I am deeply in love with the brief, burbly piano moments in that song. <\/p>\n

Also, on the subject of music, I had this documentary<\/a><\/strong>, The White Stripes Under Great White Northern Lights<\/em>, in the ‘ol Netflix queueueueue for the longest<\/em> time. It just so happens that I finally watched it last week, and I didn’t even plan that timing, given their recent calling-it-quits<\/a><\/strong>. (Sniff.) It was good. Meg White actually spoke a few words, too. <\/p>\n

Also: Yesterday would have been The Man in Black’s 79th birthday. In honor: <\/p>\n