Catchy Tunes and Titles become the Springboard for Ideas

Father and daughter welcome new baby

Artists, Small business owners and entrepreneurs are getting hoarse trying to hawk their wares in an overcrowded marketplace. As they vie for attention, their petulance is showing up in ads, and in their names.

“Angry Orchard” is a new brand of apple juice “with a bite!” If that isn’t feisty and in your face, I don’t know what is? Let’s hope their bark is as good as their bite.

“Wild Dolphin” is a start up company that is capitalizing on the sugar and citrus products grown nearby to make rum. It’s a perfect fit. Tours and samples lure customers to taste and see if this isn’t the best rum made anywhere!

"Does this hat make me look fat?" 11 x 14 pencil drawing

“The Purple Dragon” capitalizes on Mahjongg lovers in the area who want to make new friends and play the game they love. Of course, Chinese Dragon’s, especially purple ones, create a fun environment where winning is not only based on skill, but the luck of the draw.

Names do make a difference. The title of a book certainly attracts attention. And yet fine artists seem reticent to name their paintings preferring that the viewer draw their own conclusions. The thinking is that the artist doesn’t want to influence a viewer’s perception or imagination. Whether this is a good practice or not is still being debated on social media.

Personally, I enjoy knowing what an artist has used as a title. I try to envision what he or she had in mind when they created the piece. Sometimes I see their vision and sometimes I don’t, but it doesn’t stop me from looking and wondering.

"I Stand on the Brink" 8 x 10 pencil drawing

I also enjoy letting my own fantasy run wild through the forms, shapes, and colors on a canvas. If done well, the painting will lead me through a labyrinth of contrast and values that are interesting and exciting. In my opinion, a title just gives the viewer a nudge and a head start.

Search engines find your blog titles much easier if they have some length and substance to them. Understanding “catch words” and trends can help bolster your topics. Words in headings that have fire, sex, red, wild, or sizzle seem to attract readers. Hit songs with fire in their title have become instant hits. However, overuse of any hot word or phrase becomes old and tired in a twinkling on the web.

It’s fun to create catchy titles. Sometimes the titles I create actually give me an idea for a future painting or a themed series. In your spare time write down those catchy titles and save them. See if they don’t become a springboard for creation.

"Guess Whoooo?" 8 x 10 pencil drawing

To Coin a Phrase: It's the Children, Stupid!

"First Daffodil" 16x20 acrylic on canvas (now showing at Coconut Point SW FL Co-op Gallery)

Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, we lose our imagination. We bump into reality. We scrape our knees on expectations. We feel the slap of human adversity. Oh, that we could capture the awe of discovery as children do.

My three-year-old granddaughter mailed me a picture of a "person." The only recognizable parts were the round ball for the head and a robe for the body. Her mother wrote the caption: "This person is starting to grow feathers and turn into an owl." Sure enough, there were scribbles (feathers) where arms should be, and the eyes were round saucers with dots.

"With these Hands -- Hope" 16x20 oil on acrylic under painting

Children have a lot to teach us about letting go and about suspending belief, if only for a moment. They teach us to ask questions like: what if? Why? and How? Great thinkers and leaders of the past asked those questions, and today we reap the benefits. Spiritual leaders of the past asked similar questions and their answers renewed faith and restored hope in times of suffering.

For a short time, children are pure and undefiled. They are suspended in time, sheltered by a birthing cocoon. As Wordsworth penned, "they come trailing clouds of glory from God who is their home." If more parents recognized this fleeting, fragile period of blessedness, they might be more respectful of the life placed in their care. They might be more gentle, more tolerant, more forgiving of the crying infant flailing about in a new body in a strange new world; an infant "trailing clouds of glory" from its creator.

"Day Dreams" 11x14 oil on canvas

One of my favorite photos of my oldest son and daughter is titled: "The burial of an ant." The children are playing in the sand, and they spy an ant lying on its back. Recognizing the ant is dead, they proceed to cover it with sand. Their sadness over the death of one little ant made me smile. My lessons on respect for life had sunk in. Payoff, I guess, for all those baby birds we rescued, the stray dogs and cats we took in, my refusal to kill a mouse in our house that drove me scrambling up a chair for protection. If there was another way, harming any living thing was the last resort. In our house, we all became experts at trapping stray mice or lizards in a glass jar and depositing them outside.

"India Rising -- The Lost" 18x24 mixed media on canvas

This respect for life seems to be slipping away in our society. More people are using violence or murder as a means to solve problems. If they can't fix a relationship, or if it's inconvenient, they eliminate it. If someone gets in their way, slows them down, or makes life difficult, they wipe them out. Even greed plays a part in our society's lack of respect for the rights of others.

Children bring us back to basics. They force us to examine what's really important in life. Their wonder in discovery, their appreciation of simple things, their willingness to believe, simply because we tell them so is a remarkable testament of their faith and trust.

"Mother and Child" brush drawing in oil on panel; monochrome

Brush drawing, "Mother and Child"

Every December our church and some generous volunteers, put on an unconventional nativity titled "A Walk through Bethlehem.". The characters are asked to read the Christmas story as found in Matthew, and a script suggesting possible action and dialogue, and then they improvise before a live audience. You never know what the characters will say on any given evening. You never know how the touring audience of 10-15 people per group will react.

A hunched over beggar stands outside Bethlehem's walls. He asks for mercy and pleads for shekels. This year an adorable guest asked her father for money and then skipped over to drop it in the beggar's bag. Another child attending for the third year had brought a gift for the baby Jesus. The child approached the stable, tiptoed up to the manger, and wished the baby Jesus "Happy birthday." He kissed the babe's head, and placed his gift beside the swaddling clothes.

My first year as a volunteer, I played an innkeeper. My job was simply to complain that Bethlehem was brimming with people who were there to pay taxes, and that I had no room for anyone, especially these new visitors. After all, I had just turned away a mother with child, riding on a donkey.

That first year, I thought the presentation was a bit "hokey." A little too informal for my taste. After all, I had been involved in a real pageant with a cast of hundreds, and professional actors and directors. Surely, this little play by a local church could have no impact or make no impression on the community. But I was oh so wrong.

This year I was a greeter; able to listen and observe the adults and children who walked through the grass, past the wooden props of sheep and donkeys, past the wooden scenery that I had helped to paint a few years earlier. I saw the wonderment in the eyes of the children. I heard adults express their gratitude at how much they looked forward to their "Walk through Bethlehem" each year, how it renewed them and prepared them to celebrate the birth of their Savior. And I felt the spirit that can only come in a simple stable, with simple people who in humility welcome the birth of God's Son.

Merry Christmas everyone -- and Happy Holidays!

"Mother and Child" is a monochromatic brush drawing using Burnt Umber Oil on a 12x16 panel. The painting is available for sale at $249 including postage; giclees, prints, or cards are available at:
http://carol-allen-anfinsen.fineartamerica.com