ATheGathering of Furs In Between
Issue 2
Issue 3
quilt: “Tree Everlasting” by Sarah Nishiura; faces by David Gregal, Jr.
root & star
is a magazine of beauty where creative people share their art to inspire & reflect the WHOLE child: the WISE & the WILD the STRANGE & the SWEET
letter to readers M
ud is an in-between substance: it is so prevalent on our walks in the in-between seasons, when the world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful. Do you ever walk outside your front door and for a moment wonder if you are entering crisp spring or crisp fall? That liminal feeling in the air. Spring-into-summer sparkles with the energy of transition. As we thought about this season of the in between and thought about our children, we felt how much they also embody this state of being neither and both. They are almost always existing in that space between two worlds, two phases, two thoughts bursting from their mouths at the same time, the richness of forming and evolving (and devolvling!) every minute. We explore this complex, abstract theme by examining everything from tree-grafting to loving a tiger to healing a broken bowl. For we are all always- and ever-evolving. This chaos, mucky as it sometimes can be, is a sign of life.
xo , c&c Issue 3, May/June 2016 MASTHEAD Publisher and Editor-in-Chief: Courtney Mandryk Executive Editor: Christine Hartzler Internet: Stephen Warrington Social Media: Peyton Lunzer ISSN: 2470-7783 (print) Printed by T&N Printing Copyright 2016 by Root & Star, LLC. No part of root&star magazine may be reproduced without prior consent from the publisher. www.rootandstar.com 801 Belmont Ave, Charlottesville, VA 22902 To SUBSCRIBE (6 issues per year for $45): visit www.rootandstar.com/subscribe or send $45 to root&star, 801 Belmont Ave, Charlottesville, VA 22902 questions: hello@rootandstar.com
table of contents
COVER: “Star Sight” collage by Barbara Campbell Thomas HELLO: by Sabrina Lee
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ROOT&STAR comic: art by Lida Larina; story by Courtney Mandryk ACTIVITY: “In Between the Pages”: art by Abbigail Knowlton Israelsen; “Welcome to the Night” poem by Joyce Sidman MADE BY HAND: “Kintsugi” by Courtney Mandryk
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POEM: “In Between” by Amanda Beresford; “Dark Flower” bleach painting by Lauren Luloff
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A GOOD IDEA: “Mud Kitchen” with art by Emilee Lord (poster) and Courtney Mandryk (kitchen)
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VISUAL ENCYCLOPEDIA: “Encyclopedia of the Insides of Things” by Courtney Mandryk
MISSION: “Tree Everlasting” quilt by Sarah Nishiura; faces by David Gregal, Jr.
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FABLE: “Tiger, My Son”: an ancient Chinese story adapted by Christine Hartzler; art by Courtney Mandryk TRUE STORY: “Interviews Between Dogs and Not-Dogs”: based on the book One Big Happy Family by Lisa Rogan with imaginary interviews by Christine Hartzler IO AND THE TEACUP: “Tea Tree Lake” by Amanda Ferris; papercuts by Erin Hüber
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BEAST ROCKS APPLESAUCE: TREE GRAFTING: collage by Julie Lambert; text by Stephen Warrington
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ASK ARDEN: by David Gregal, Jr. with text by Courtney Mandryk
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STORY: “Sal the Small Rabbit”: poem by Jennifer Metsker; paintings by Chris Haske
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YOU HAVE MAIL: by Elizabeth Ames Staudt
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STARS: CENTAURUS: art by Sofi Dub; poem by Aaron Reid YOU ARE AN ARTIST: art by Lochlyn D. and Noa H. GOODBYE: by Sabrina Lee BACK COVER: “Soulmates” by Nicoletta Ceccoli
Root&Star
Today I feel like I am both an owl and a bear:
I am so hungry I want to eat a WHOLE berry bush.
WATCH OUT!
Thanks. Close one.
Today I feel like I am both a deer and an owl: I’m pretty wise the way I saved you from that prickly bush!
We are all one-horned rhinoceroses sometimes. We are all everything everything everything.
Even owls are not wise all the time. Perhaps today I am both an owl and a one-horned rhinoceros: those creatures don’t see very well.
So I am a frog and a fish and a deer like you. And I am a tree and a stream and a blueberry, too!
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What is happening in the space between this page and the next? Shine a flashlight behind this page to see more nighttime adventures appear!
activit
y
WELCOME TO THE NIGHT poem by Joyce Sidman art by Abbigail Knowlton Israelsen
To all of you who crawl and creep, who buzz and chirp and hoot and peep, who wake at dusk and throw off sleep: Welcome to the night. To you who make the forest sing, who dip and dodge on silent wing, who flutter, hover, clasp, and cling: Welcome to the night! Come feel the cool and shadowed breeze, come smell your way among the trees, come touch rough bark and leathered leaves: Welcome to the night. The night’s a sea of dappled dark, the night’s a feast of sound and spark, the night’s a wild, enchanted park. Welcome to the night!
“Welcome to the Night” from DARK EMPEROR AND OTHER POEMS by Joyce Sidman. Text copyright (c) 2010 by Joyce Sidman. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved.
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Bats can’t see. They make noises and wait for their echo to bounce back to them. If it doesn’t bounce back then they can safely fly forward.
made by hand
Is there anything you see as broken that you can fix or turn into something else? text and images by Courtney Mandryk
poem
In Between
poem by Amanda Beresford bleach painting by Lauren Luloff
I dream of day. Baba says, “daytime is bright. Sometimes too bright and raw.” I dream of night. Baba says, “nighttime is dark and chilly, the sky looks inky black.” “Sometimes,” Baba says, “the in between is the most beautiful thing.” Baba and I dream of morning. The day is beginning, but softly and quietly. Baba and I dream of evening. The sun drifts to sleep and the sky quiets. “Sometimes,” Baba says, “the in between is the most beautiful thing.” Lauren the artist says: I paint the plants and flowers I find around me. I also love drawing patterns. I traveled to India to study “block printing,” which is thousands of years old.
I love when I wake before the sun. That is an in-between time. The world is so still. Do you ever wake early and feel the in-between time?
“Dark Flower,” 2015, bleached bedsheets and fabric, 48” x 36”. Image courtesy Annarumma Gallery
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an ancient Chinese story adapted by Christine Hartzler art by Courtney Mandryk
here once was a tiger who swallowed a boy. Gulp.
T The next morning, the boy’s mother’s hearth was cold. She wrapped herself in a shawl and went to gather firewood in the forest. It took a long time to find wood that would fit in the fireplace, that wouldn’t need to be chopped smaller by an axe in her son’s strong arms. Walking home, she wondered how would she ever hunt and forage for a lifetime’s worth of food, all alone.
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As she walked home, she found the tiger asleep in the branches of a giant old tree. She called to the tiger by talking to the birds.
When the birds of the forest began tweeting, the tiger lay quietly between sleep and waking, letting his dreams mingle with the morning. In the raucous bird song, he heard young birds calling Mama, mama, and then, he knew. He knew what he had done, and he felt truly SORRY. For this tiger was not unkind. He had only been hungry. He hadn’t thought about anything else. He was just a tiger after all.
Spring became summer and summer became fall. One day the woman opened her door, broom in hand, to sweep up the golden ginkgo leaves scattering down from the trees. At her feet lay a bouquet of chrysanthemums, a bit mangled on the stems.
The next morning, a small pile of silver coins awaited her, and on all the days thereafter, small gifts appeared outside of her house: a rabbit, a chicken, a deer. The paw prints in the autumn dust, winter snow, and spring mud left no question as to who was leaving the gifts.
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The woman was being cared for by the tiger, and she, in turn, looked for a way to care for him: she wove him a nest of grasses and delicioussmelling herbs.
While the tiger remained wild and roamed the world as tigers do, each night he returned to her house. At first, he guarded the door as he slept outside.
Then, he began to sleep inside the house, especially on cold winter nights. She knit him his own blanket from the fleece of the lambs he sacrificed.
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Finally one spring, he let the woman lovingly stroke his fur.
It is summer, she would say, and the tiger would pounce into the meadow and bring her branches of the sweetest lilac.
For the rest of their lives they would take care of each other, feeding each other and walking together in the forest, watching the seasons transform the world again and again. Tiger, my son, she would say, and the tiger would bow.
Snip, snap, snout. This tale’s told out.
interviews between Dogs and Not-Dogs
But n
ot ho
t dog
s!
Do you have friends who are younger and older than you? One of my oldest friends is a tree in the rainforest. I don’t know how old it is, hundreds of years at least. My youngest friend is inside an egg in the nesting pocket I hung outside my house last winter. Have you ever had an animal that was your friend? I have been a cat-mama and a fish-mama and a dog-auntie. Most animals like to stick with their own kind, but sometimes they bond with other species. Dogs and people are famous for being friends, but take a look at these incredible photographs! What do you think these pairs might say, if we could ask them about their friendships?
Rosie the dog and Mahogany the llama Mahogany the llama: When I was a baby, Rosie gave me her milk. She became my dog-mama. Rosie the dog: I never dreamed I’d have a llama-baby! Mahogany the llama: Sometimes my dog-sisters and dog-brothers dog-pile me! Then we all roll around in the grass.
photo: John Drysdale
Kiera the German Shorthaired Pointer and Cherub the white-faced scops owl Cherub the owl: At first I was afraid Kiera was going to eat me. Kiera the dog: I never wanted to eat you! I was just so excited to meet you. Though you do look like a marshmallow. There is so much we can learn from one another!
14 photo: Richard Austin
These real stories and photographs are from Lisa Rogak’s book One Big Happy Family. Our imagined interviews, inspired by her book, are by Christine Hartzler.
ts rue t or y
Rocky the Great Dane and Cindy the fawn Rocky the dog: Cindy is my fawn-friend. She’s my baby too. Cindy the fawn: I was sick and Rocky took care of me and made me better. Now I’m strong and I love to play like a wild dog with Rocky!
photo: Richard Austin
Rocky the dog: Cindy is great at catching sticks. I’m teaching her how to be rough and tough and how to talk like a dog, too.
Billy the Boxer and Lilly the goat Billy the dog: Lilly needed a dada, and my owner said I could try. Lilly the goat: My dada holds me close. I feel so safe. Billy the dog: And I feel lucky because I’m the only dog on our farm with my own goat-baby.
15 photo: Richard Austin
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TEA TREE LAKE
i o is a
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IO AND THE TEACUP
eys a n d journ ha sa
story by Amanda Ferris papercuts by Erin Hüber
O
ne time, Io went all the way to Australia and back in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Some people are like that—I mean, they can sit with their legs crossed and their eyes closed and they can go anywhere in the whole universe and back in an instant. I don’t know many seven-year-olds who have this special power, but Io does. Io is not your typical seven-year-old. She has a special golden teacup that she keeps inside her hair, which she artfully sculpts into a puffy puff right on top of her head. Removing the teacup from the top of her head, Io’s very long locks tumble down around her shoulders and her entire little body. Raising the teacup to her lips and closing her eyes is always the beginning of an adventure for Io.
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This time, Io was at once aware of the strength of the sun, and she felt relieved to find herself sitting by a freshwater lake. Unfolding her legs, Io stood and waded into the water. Curiously, the water was the color of her favorite tea, a shade of rusty amber. Io wriggled her toes into the tea-colored mud. It was cool and soft, and she decided to use the teamud like finger paint, drawing designs on her arms and legs. After the mud paint dried, Io went for a swim.
Mud-bath time!
Stepping out of the lake, Io was amazed to see that her arms and legs were tea-colored. She felt like a new person. It seemed like a light was shining beneath her newly saffron-satsuma-eggplant-colored skin. And her wet hair smelled herby and fresh. Taking a delicious breath, Io closed her eyes and returned home, placing the teacup back atop her head. Her arms and legs were back to normal when she opened her eyes again, and she was a bit disappointed. How lovely it had been to wear a different skin.
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But how did that mud change the color of Io’s skin, you ask? Well, Io happened to have been sitting next to an Australian tea tree lake. When tea trees grow at the edge of a lake, their oil seeps into the water, giving it healing properties and staining the water the color of tea. It won’t stain your skin forever, but it can take a day or two before the color wears off. Io’s journey continues in the next issue!
A good
!
WELCOME TO THE MUD KITCHEN
idea
A little place of your own in the outside world for mud pies and mud tea and mud pancakes. And hopefully you’ll take a big MUD BATH, too!
Baby elephants throw themselves into the mud when they are upset!
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I love t o I’m get see the patt er ting hu ngry fo ns inside fru it. r some reason .
paintings by Courtney Mandryk
Strawberries are a vegetable; their seeds are the fruit.
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What is worse than finding a worm in your apple?
Finding half a worm in your apple!
id you know that you can take one tree and attach it to another tree to make a whole new tree? You can even put two, or three, or four, or five trees onto another tree. You know what they call that? A family tree. How cool would it be to have a lemon-limegrapefruitorange family tree in your yard? Or an apple-plumpeach-pear tree?
D
To attach trees like this you cut a piece of a branch from one tree and bind it to a cut in another tree’s trunk. This is called grafting. (That’s also what they call it when you ride on a raft with a gorilla, but not many people know that.) You can also graft flowers and vegetables. In Japan they use robots to help graft lots of fruits and vegetables together for farming. Does the thought of a Japanese tomato grafting robot make you smile?
text by Stephen Warrington collage by Julie Lambert
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sal the small rabbit
poem by Jennifer Metsker inspired by paintings by Chris Haske
Sal the small rabbit thinks the world is too high. The trees look daunting as they climb to the sky.
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A really steep hill can make him feel smaller. Then snow falls upon it and it seems even taller.
Ther e are many n o ma big th tter t Even ings he se the s know ason w i s . m h mi ow
ng po se him ol .
to tea
Poor Sal’s tears come one after another. So he goes home and says to his mother,
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“If I can’t wear tall boots or fly through the air or stand tall on stilts or spike up my hair, how can a rabbit who’s so very wee become a lot bigger than the inches you see?
”
“You can fill up your heart, Sal, with all your big feelings. So many frustrations they reach to the ceiling! Then with your BIG heart and a few hops unabashed, you CAN climb up a ladder and make a big SPLASH!
Some ladders seem ta actually are if we m ller in our minds than they Some things seem easured them with a ruler. mu are. You are strong ch scarier than they actually er than you know. So strong!
�
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This is a letter for YOU from our friend Elizabeth. Elizabeth Ames Staudt is a writer who lives in Massachusetts. She wrote this letter when it was still winter and cold. Do you remember it ever being cold? Soon after she wrote this, she had a baby girl. Have you ever waited and waited for a baby to come and then finally looked into that baby’s eyes? Someone did that for YOU.
Isn’t it fun to get mail addressed to you? Would you like to write a letter to someone you love?
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Can you imagine you were ever a tiny baby? Do you remember anything from when you were just born?
Centaurus
* stars
poem by
Aaron R art by So eid fi Dub
Centaurus roams the southern sky A giant constellation He’s a wise and noble centaur With a glowing reputation
. Lucy
Sometimes he likes to whinny And sometimes he likes to laugh For his top half is a man And a horse, his bottom half
Alpha
.
uri
a a Cent Proxim i ur Centa
He’s one of two centaurs up there The other’s Sagittarius (They often like to argue Over which one is the hairiest) In the front hoof of Centaurus (Here’s a hot part of the story) Is the star that’s closest to our sun-Named Proxima Centauri Do you like to look at diamonds? I know that I sure do And the biggest diamond ever seen Is in Centaurus too!
Have you eve rs I am usually een constellations in the sle sk at night. The eping but they are wat y at night? ch y are always there, these ing over me stories abov my head. e
It’s in a star named Lucy You should tell this to your mum: It’s right there in Centaurus It’s right there near his bum! eek!
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YOU ARE AN ARTIST “I wanted to take the picture because I knew my friend would really like to see it. I put the feathers together against the rocks.” —Lochlyn D., age 5
This painting is one in a large series on crocodiles. A fun surprise: Noa’s name is hidden in the crocodile’s head! —Noa H., age 4
root & star
Do YOU have art you would like to share with ? Hooray! Please email us (hello@rootandstar.com) a quality photograph or scan of your work, including a sentence or two, or a poem, or anything you would like to say. We can’t wait to hear from you!
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THE ARTISTS & WRITERS WHO squeEEezed in between the in between Amanda Beresford is a writer and pastor who lives with her family in between the swamps and mountains of Virginia, in Charlottesville. She and her two daughters enjoy feeling the wind in their hair and the grass in between their toes. Nicoletta Ceccoli is a San Marinian artist known for her richly detailed, dreamlike paintings. She lives in the Republic of San Marino, near Italy. (www.nicolettaceccoli.com) Sofi Dub is a Ukrainian illustrator and designer. She like traveling, meeting new people, and drawing illustrations. Amanda Ferris lives in Melbourne, Australia. She teaches Mysore-style Ashtanga Yoga and explores inner space. (www.mysoremelbourne.com) David Gregal, Jr. lives in Washington, DC. At the end of the day, he loves reading books with his wife and two kids before bedtime. Christine Hartzler is one of the makers of this magazine. She lives in Seattle with her husband and two boys. She spends her time mostly mothering and making this magazine. Chris Haske is a dad, artist, and art teacher. He lives in Virginia with his delightful wife, two wonderfully quirky daughters, one friendly black cat, and a playful pterodactyl. Well ... actually, one of those things isn’t true. Guess which one! (www.chrishaske.com) Erin Hüber is an artist living in Indiana. When she’s not telling stories through cut paper and illustrations, she’s making apple pies and enjoying quiet time with her children. (www.etsy.com/shop/ErinHuberArt) Abbigail Knowlton Israelsen is an artist who lives in the forest of Indiana. Abbi likes to look for fossils, mushrooms, and geodes with her three children. As a family they love to hike, swing, and draw on the sidewalk. (www.abbigailisraelsen.com) Julie Lambert lives in Michigan. She grew up in Ohio and can remember wanting to be an artist since kindergarten. Julie is an art professor. She enjoys running, gardening with her children and cooking. (www.julie-lambert.com) Lida Larina lives in Russia. Every day Lida walks her best friend—her black dog named Babai. After their walk, Lida draws the sleeping Babai. (www.coroflot.com/lestac) Sabrina Lee lives in New York City with her husband and two rescue cats. Most days you’ll find her creating in the kitchen, dreaming of country living, playing feline entertainer to Miu Miu and Misha, or simply living life one drawing at a time. Emilee Lord is a drawing teacher in Northern New Jersey. She loves lines, tiny things, collecting typewriters, and playing in the rain. (www.emileelord.com) Lauren Luloff is an artist living in New York City. She grew up in beautiful places such as New Hampshire and Pennsylvania and continues to be drawn towards nature and exploration in her life and art. She has a tiny new baby named Julian. (www.laurenluloff.blogspot.com) Courtney Mandryk is one of the makers of this magazine. She and her husband live with their two kids, two dogs, and two cats in a small house in Virginia, where they love Free Union Country School. (www.mothdrawn.com) Jennifer Metsker is a poet and artist who lives in Michigan. She loves summer more than any other time of year because her favorite sound is the chirping of crickets and her favorite smell is warm screen doors. Sarah Nishiura learned to sew from her mother when she was a little girl and, now that she is grown up, she still sews every day. She lives and makes quilts in a little house in Chicago, Illinois, which she shares with her husband, son, and two cats. (www.sarahnishiura.com) Aaron Reid lives near Mount Rainier with his wife, son, and daughter. He tries to make them laugh. Sometimes they do. He also has a wobbly cat. And a beard. His daughter says he looks like a grandpa. Lisa Rogak is a writer who lives in New Hampshire. She is still amazed that it’s possible to make a living by indulging her natural curiosity and asking total strangers really nosy questions. (www.lisarogak.com) Elizabeth Ames Staudt is a writer. She lives in Cambridge with her husband and their new baby, who smells these days like a yogurt pop, a sun-warmed kitten, and a shimmery cool clean creek.
how clever and kind Barbara Campell Thomas is an artist and teacher who lives in North Carolina. She is married to an artist, and she and her husband are lucky to be able to make paintings and drawings on their two acres of lovely and land in the country. They have two crazy wonderful boys and one black cat. considerate (www.barbaracampbellthomas.com) you Stephen Warrington is Chairman Emeritus of the Wissahickon Chicken Kissing Commission and First Chair Transmogrifier in the Gnostic Needlepoint Orchestra of The South. He lives among holy beasts and are. wild things in Charlottesville, Virginia. (www.stevewarrington.com)
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is published six times per year. Reproduction of any images or text is strictly prohibited without prior permission. All text and art is copyrighted by our individual artists. All rights reserved. Please visit our website www.rootandstar.com (or scan the QR code) for subscription information, shop, blog, and more beauty, peace, and inspiration.
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I reached for the fog to lick it. Mist.
art by Courtney Mandryk
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