Showing posts with label children's activities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children's activities. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 November 2013

Elephant No. 75: From the Archives—Thaumatrope





First posted this on January 11, 2012, in the original Elephant a Day blog.


I've always been enchanted by optical toys and illusions, so today I thought I'd try to make a thaumatrope. 

Thaumatropes—a name derived from the Greek words thauma ("wonder") and tropos ("turn")—were popular toys in Victorian times. Each thaumatrope consists of a cardboard disc with pictures on both sides, threaded onto a pair of strings. When the strings are twirled, the two pictures appear to combine into a single image. This is due to a principle once known as persistence of vision, by which the retina was thought to retain images long enough for them to blend together. This has since been explained as a phenomenon rooted in the brain's perception of motion.

The thaumatrope is most commonly credited to John Ayrton Paris, who in 1824 used a thaumatrope to demonstrate "persistence of vision" to the Royal College of Physicians in London, England. His invention was based on the ideas of astronomer John Herschel and geologist William Henry Fitton, the latter of whom is also sometimes said to have invented the thaumatrope. Others give credit to Charles Babbage, inventor of the world's first mechanical computer.

The range of images on thaumatropes is vast, the most famous of which is a bird in a cage. Sayings, poems or riddles are also sometimes inscribe along the outside of the disc. There is an excellent collection of thaumatropes, many of which can be viewed in action, on the delightful and informative Richard Balzer Collection website.

For today's elephant, I decided to draw a "naked" elephant on one side, with a hat and clown suit on the other side. Hopefully, when the thaumatrope is spun, the two will blend. The faster the disc spins, the stronger the illusion of a single image.

Making a thaumatrope is quite simple. To start, you need two cards or discs of identical size and shape. I opted to cut a couple of discs measuring about 7.5 cm (3 inches) in diameter, since this is the traditional thaumatrope shape. I used a lightweight bristol board, but any light cardboard will do. Index cards are also recommended on some sites offering instructions on making thaumatropes.

Once you have the discs cut, you can either punch the holes in the sides right away, or start your first drawing. I didn't want to punch the holes quite yet, so I sketched an elephant in the middle of one disc with pencil. I lightly sketched the hat and clown outfit as well, so that I would have some idea of how it would look when I did the reverse side. Once I was happy with the elephant, I went over it with a permanent black marker and erased the pencil lines. I also put small black dots where I intended to punch holes.




To create the second drawing, you need to be able to see the first drawing. The easiest way to do this is either hold it up to a window and trace, or use a light table. I used a window, because I don't actually have a light table. Shocking, I know. In addition to drawing the hat and clown outfit, carefully leaving out any parts of the elephant, I added a few confetti dots in the background, and repeated the small punch-out dots.




Then I decided both sides needed a bit of colour, so I painted them with watercolour.




The thaumatrope was now ready to be assembled. The most important thing to remember here is that the discs must be upside-down to one another. I don't know why this is—and it's beyond me to either understand or explain it—but I do know that, if you don't make them opposite to one another, the thaumatrope will look really weird. In this case, the hat would float around in the space below the elephant's body as soon as I set it spinning.




To finish the thaumatrope, you need to make holes in the two discs, and attach loops of string, or elastic bands, on either side. I pierced the holes with a large needle, and used red embroidery floss for the string.

Double over the string and feed it through both discs. 




Feed the cut ends through the loop and tighten. 




Tie knots in the cut ends. This not only finishes it off nicely, but gives you a place to loop your fingers when spinning the thaumatrope. 




Now comes the magic part. To spin the thaumatrope, I twirled it between my fingers until the string was tightly twisted. As soon as I pulled the two pieces of string out to the sides, the thaumatrope began to spin, and the pictures blended together. This was hard to photograph with just me to both spin and record, but you get the idea. Interestingly, there are no single shots in the original clip in which both sides of the disc are visible, so your eyes and brain really are responsible for this entire illusion. 




This was technically quite easy, and only took extra time because I wanted to carefully draw and paint it to give it an old-fashioned feel.

I like the final result a lot, and may even make a few for friends someday.


Elephant Lore of the Day
Elephants have the largest brains of all mammals, and are highly intelligent. In addition to being able to work out problems, they often alter their behaviour in response to new challenges.

They are also excellent escape artists. In the 1970s, at Marine World Africa in the United States, an Asian elephant named Bandula figured out how to either break open or unlock several devices used to secure the shackles on her feet. The most complex of the devices was a brommel hook, which closes when its two sides slide together. Bandula fiddled with it constantly, finally learning how to slide the hook apart by aligning the sides. 

Once Bandula freed herself, she helped the other elephants to escape along with her. There was a certain element of cunning involved as well: before escaping, Bandula and her companions looked around to be sure that no one was watching before they ran away. 

Similarly, a female elephant described in Eugene Linden's book, The Octopus and the Orangutan: More Tales of Animal Intrigue, Intelligence and Ingenuity, worked out how to unscrew iron eye bolts measuring 2.5 cm (1 inch) in diameter. Using her trunk to create leverage, she managed to completely untwist the bolt and free herself. 



To Support Elephant Welfare



Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Elephant No. 65: Clothespin-Activated Mouth




I was at a yarn-spinning session yesterday, and one of the group members brought some of her fibre art from a recent show. Lynda had some lovely little kits for a make-your-own snowflake garland, and they included tiny wooden clothespins. When I happened to be near a dollar store a couple of hours later, I saw some similar clothespins, so I decided to buy a couple of packages to make an elephant.

I remembered vaguely that clothespins are among the hardest things to attach to one another if you plan to make anything recognizable, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway. I suspected I'd be cursing and flinging little clothespins all over the place before I was done, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

These were the clothespins I bought. As you can see, they're very small.






I began by clipping some clothespins together to make the head and ear. This took me half an hour, because the clothespins couldn't firmly attach to one another, and kept sproinging apart, often disintegrating in mid-air.




I tried making a body next, with the same result: clothespin shrapnel everywhere. And forget about actually attaching the body to the head.




I decided to try again, this time working on body and head at the same time. Same thing: everything sproinged apart, or twisted and fell off—usually behind the furniture.

I decided to regroup. I remembered seeing another idea for clothespins, in which the opening and closing of the clothespin serves as the opening and closing of a mouth. Obviously this would work best with something wide-mouthed like an alligator or a frog, but I thought I could make it work for an elephant.

I thought briefly about using a large clothespin, then decided I'd work with one of the little ones. They might as well make themselves useful after being so, well, useless for the previous hour or more.

Placing a clothespin on a piece of artist-quality bristol board, I drew lightly around it with a pencil. This was mostly to guide me when it came to size. I then sketched out an elephant shape, using the centre indent of the clothespin as the centre of the mouth. I was originally going to make it double-sided, then thought that it might be easier to manipulate the mouth if it were one-sided. That way, I could also hide the clothespin completely inside the shape.





Because I couldn't really bisect the entire elephant to make the mouth work, I opted to separate just the jaw from the body of the elephant.

I outlined everything with a fine permanent marker, then heat-set it with a hairdryer. As you can see, the final mouth is about half again as big as what would show when the whole thing was assembled.




I coloured everything in with watercolour pencils, then activated the pigment with water to make it look painted.




And finally, I glued the two parts of the elephant—jaw and main body—to the clothespin with double-sided tape. I stuck the mouth on first, then marked its placement on the reverse side of the main elephant.





And here it is in action. Sorry about the quality of the video.



I don't think I'll ever try clipping clothespins to one another again, but as a fallback, I kind of like this little guy. I thought he would be a lot smaller when I started, but for a small mouth like this, the mini clothespin actually worked quite well.





Elephant Lore of the Day
Because I ended up with less time than I had anticipated today, I decided to bring back one of my favourite elephants from the original Elephant a Day blog.

In 1936, a man named Richard Halliburton decided to retrace Hannibal's exploits by cross the Alps on the back of an Asian elephant named Dally—short for Elysabethe Dalrymple.

The trouble started almost as soon as Dally left her home at the Paris Zoo. Although the first bit of Halliburton's walk through the Bois de Boulogne went well, Dally balked as soon as she encountered the Porte Maillot and traffic. A taxi driver, approaching from behind, honked his horn within a couple of feet of Dally's tail. Unable to take the stress, Dally leapt into the air, then took off, trumpeting in terror, charging blindly down the Avenue de la Grande Armée at speed. Halliburton was flung off first, followed by his baggage, and finally her hollering mahout, Harel.

Chasing her did no good, serving only to panic Dally even more. She banged into parked cars, scattered pedestrians and cyclists, and caused a great deal of screaming. She was only stopped by a solid mass of traffic that had halted at a light. Squealing miserably in the midst of a tangle of cars, Dally was held by the shocked drivers until her keepers could come and get her.

Surprisingly, Halliburton was not deterred by this setback. Dally went back to the Paris Zoo, where she was given several months of traffic training. When Halliburton came back, Dally was ready for the adventure. Travelling by freight train through France, Halliburton, Dally, Harel and a truck carrying supplies and feed for Dally alighted in Martigny, Switzerland. Darkness had set in, but the sight of an elephant walking the streets of the town was still enough to send many people running away in fear. Halliburton reckoned that it might have been the first time anyone had seen an elephant in Martigny in more than two millennia.

After several days' travel, then arrived at St. Bernard's Pass and headed down into Italy. Dally perked up as they descended, actually playing a giant harmonica, which was apparently her favourite thing in the whole world. Everything seemed relatively idyllic until the party ran smack into mountain manoeuvres being conducted by the Italian Army.

Forty thousand soldiers popped up all around the little party. As Halliburton put it, "The slopes and woods suddenly swarmed with them; they filled the road, they and their military trucks, and their artillery, and their tanks and cavalry." Apparently the Italians were as surprised to see Halliburton as he was to see them. They seem to have been particularly astonished by the sight of an elephant playing a harmonica. Cheering Dally on with cries of "L'elefantessa! L'elefantessa!" soldiers came running from all over, eventually allowing the group to pass.

Halliburton had gone about half a mile down the road when disaster struck again. Although Dally had been desensitized to traffic, she had not been desensitized to the sound of gunfire. The military was on manoeuvres, after all, and a gun emplacement suddenly began firing real shells not 200 metres from where Dally was walking. The noise was too much for her, and she reared up on her hind legs, trumpeted frantically, turned around and dashed back the way she'd come in an even more uncontrollable panic than in Paris. Halliburton again hit the ground, Dally's lead rope was ripped from Harel's hands, and she charged into the midst of the troops—which obligingly scattered.

Dally was eventually brought under control, but the adventure was over. Dally, Haliburton and Harel headed back to Paris by train, where Dally was returned to the Paris Zoo. As a parting gift, Halliburton presented her with a new harmonica.

For part of Halliburton's firsthand account and a link to more photographs, click here.


Dally, Haliburton, and Dally's mahout Harel walking through Italy, 1936.
From the entertaining Beachcomber's Bizarre History Blog at
http://www.strangehistory.net/2010/07/24/an-elephant-invades-italy-in-1936/


To Support Elephant Welfare
Boon Lott's Elephant Sanctuary (Thailand)
Wildlife SOS (India) 
 
The Elephant Sanctuary (Tennessee)

David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation
Big Life Foundation

Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Elephant No. 44: Finger Painting





For today's elephant, I felt like painting with my fingers. This was only the second time I'd tried finger painting since I was little, so I was either expecting a total disaster or an unexpected masterpiece.

I started by pouring relatively large amounts of bottled acrylic paint into an assortment of palette-like containers, and laid out a sheet of 16 x 20 (40.6 x 50.8 cm) paper specially made for acrylic paint. For finger-painting, you normally use more slippery paints and paper with a slick surface, but I wanted to go for a more painterly effect.

I opted not to use a photograph this time, although it might have been better if I did.

I started by making an outline in purple with my index finger, followed by my usual blue, green, red, orange and yellow. I used a number of techniques: thick lines of paint drawn along the paper with various fingertips; light coatings of paint smudged heavily into the surface; and the sides of my fingernails.









I liked this okay, but I can never leave well enough alone, so I began adding more colour to the elephant. And because I'd goofed and added extra blue under the elephant, I compounded my mistake by adding greenery and flowers. I wish I hadn't, but oh well. I suppose I can pretend it goes with the whole finger-painting concept.





Another thing I discovered is that, if you have medium-length fingernails, paint will collect under them, and will choose unusual moments to discharge itself onto the paper. I ended up with strange little blurts of paint when I least expected it. Sometimes I could make it work by spreading the paint; other times I just let it be streaky and weird.




And, because fingers are relatively clumsy paintbrushes, I used my fingernails to create a few small dots and lines. The effect was most obvious in the eye area.




The final result was far from a masterpiece, but it wasn't a total disaster, either. I will probably try this again sometime, using the smudging effect more, and my fingernails more, and less gloppy amounts of paint.





Elephant Lore of the Day
I covered this story in the original Elephant a Day blog, but I thought it was so funny that it was worth repeating today.

Elephants like to play as much as any other animal, but pity the poor monitor lizard who became an Asian elephant's favourite toy.


Madhuri and her favourite toy, Corbett National Park, India.
Photo: ©Jagdeep Rajput/Solent News and Photo Agency
Source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1294600/Put---DOWN-
The-elephant-took-fancy-unfortunate-lizard.html

In India's Corbett National Park, a female elephant called Madhuri became quite taken with monitor lizards as playthings. Scooping the hapless creatures off the ground by their tails, Madhuri would carry them around for days, swinging them about in the air like rag dolls. Sometimes she also tossed them high into the air, let them drop to the ground, then picked them up and began flinging  them around again.

Eventually she would get bored with her lizard du jour, and let it escape—only to snatch up another monitor lizard a few days later.


Madhuri walking with her hapless plaything.
Photo: ©Jagdeep Rajput/Solent News and Photo Agency
Source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1294600/Put---DOWN-
The-elephant-took-fancy-unfortunate-lizard.html


To Support Elephant Welfare
Boon Lott's Elephant Sanctuary (Thailand)
Wildlife SOS (India) 
 
The Elephant Sanctuary (Tennessee)

David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation



Wednesday, 9 October 2013

Elephant No. 37: Mechanical Paper Card





This was inspired by an elephant card I came across yesterday while looking for trading card designs. My first thought when I saw it on eBay was, "I want that!" Then, "I'll make that!"

The original is quite nice, and I may still buy it before the time is up, but if you're interested, you can find it here.

Novelty card produced for the Harlfinger
Baking Company, Albany, N.Y.
Source: http://www.ebay.com/itm/Elephant-
paper-doll-trade-card-Albany-NY-bread-
/231004556575
As far as I can tell from this smallish image, the main elephant has a curved slit for the ear, a curved slit under the trunk, and a curved slit in the leg for the tab you use to activate the card. Once I had this much figured out, my next thought was, "Lord help me," because I really suck at paper mechanics.

With visions of misaligned and ill-fitting tabs and slits dancing in my head, I sketched out an elephant on artist-quality bristol board. I sketched the whole elephant to start with, thinking that might help.




Before committing anything to ink, I figured out where the curved slits needed to be, and sketched them in. Next, I taped the original elephant sketch to a window, taped another piece of bristol board over top, and traced over the elephant again, again marking the slits. I figured this might help me when I went to make the mechanical part.



Given my lack of paper engineering skills, I decided I ought to test this design to see if it worked. I traced both parts onto scrap bond paper. Testing was a very good idea, because I discovered that the original design is unworkable. For the mechanics to function, the slits all have to curve in the same general direction. As you can see in the closeup of the ear, I had to cut, tape and recut several times before I got it to work at all.





Once I had everything figured out, I went back to my bristol board version and outlined everything with a permanent pigment liner. To make sure it wouldn't run when I painted it, I heat-set it with a hairdryer. I gave the mechanical part two eyes, figuring that this area would slide enough that I'd need two eyes to avoid having a periodically blind elephant.





To give it the look of an early-twentieth-century piece, I decided to paint it with gouache.





After the paint dried, I went back over some of the lines to give it the graphic look of the card that inspired me.






I cut the mechanical part out, and sliced the curved slits with a sharp craft knife. The original also has a cutout for the eye. Once everything was cut, I slid the moving portion through the little slits. The ear was a bit of a challenge because I had made the ear a bit too wide for the slit, but I managed to squeeze it through with some almost-gentle persuasion.




I was very happy with the way it looked, but it didn't really do much. For it to astonish and amaze, it probably would need much longer slits, and they would all have to be curved exactly the same. Things kept sticking around the tusk, for example. However, I know next to nothing about paper mechanics, so don't take my word for it.



For better or worse, here it is in action. I also discovered that, if I tugged on the tab instead of sliding it back and forth, I could make the ears flap and the trunk lift. I also discovered that the ear-flapping effect worked much better with my paper version than the one made of bristol board.




In the end, I liked the way it looked, but wasn't overly impressed with its mechanics. The mechanics also took me a stupidly long time to figure out and fiddle with, which tends to make me a little cranky. That said, it's pretty enough that I'll keep it, but not fun enough that I'll rush to make another one.





Elephant Lore of the Day
In the video I made a few days ago, there was a pair of photos relating to one of the most unusual and touching stories I've ever read about elephants. These were the photos:


Lawrence Anthony with former rogue elephant, Nana.
Source: http://blog.beliefnet.com/news/2012/03/rescued-wild-
elephant-herds-inexplicably-gather-to-mourn-lawrence-anthony-
south-africas-elephant-whisperer.php

Thula Thula's elephants begin arriving to pay their respects.
Source: http://blog.beliefnet.com/news/2012/03/rescued-
wild-elephant-herds-inexplicably-gather-to-mourn-lawrence-anthony-
south-africas-elephant-whisperer.php


The man in the first photograph is Lawrence Anthony. A longtime champion of wildlife, Anthony was also known as the "Elephant Whisperer" for his ability to rehabilitate elephants with severe behavioural problems—elephants who would otherwise be put to death. With him is Nana, a former rogue elephant who became matriarch of the herd at Thula Thula Private Game Reserve in South Africa. 

The second photograph shows one of the Thula Thula herds, unexpectedly arriving at Anthony's house following his death in March 2012. In what appeared to be a tribute to Anthony, both of Thula Thula's elephant herds began arriving en masse within two days of his death.

As I wrote in my original Elephant a Day blog, the herds were at least 12 hours away when he died. According to Anthony's son Dylan, the elephants hadn't been to the house in 18 months, making their trek even more unusual.

Arriving within a day of one another, the herds remained quietly around the house for two days, then headed back into the bush.

It is not known why the elephants made the trek. Perhaps they missed seeing Anthony out in the bush, and came looking for him—although this was something they'd never done before. Or perhaps Anthony's family and friends were right in thinking that somehow the elephants knew he was gone, and came to pay their last respects, as they often do with their own kind.

To read more about Lawrence Anthony and the elephants of Thula Thula, click here.


The elephants of Thula Thula, arriving to pay their respects.
Source: http://blog.beliefnet.com/news/2012/03/rescued-
wild-elephant-herds-inexplicably-gather-to-mourn-lawrence-anthony-
south-africas-elephant-whisperer.php


To Support Elephant Welfare
Boon Lott's Elephant Sanctuary (Thailand)
Wildlife SOS (India) 
 
The Elephant Sanctuary (Tennessee)

David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation