A quick & simple animation inspired by the recent news story 'Balloon Boy'.
Showing posts with label balloon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label balloon. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Speed maybe?
I'm not sure a balloon is fast enough to get Santa to all his destinations. Reindeer might be speedier! Well, I did this for IF: Balloon this week, but I figured I could make it work here too.
And since we've had the Speed challenge for a while on Monday Artday, I figured some of you might want another challenge, so stop by my blog and enter our holiday card challenge...!
And since we've had the Speed challenge for a while on Monday Artday, I figured some of you might want another challenge, so stop by my blog and enter our holiday card challenge...!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
balloon part 2
The challenge word this week on another illustration blog is "balloon".
This is the second of two illustrations I did for the topic. Here is the first.
On Thanksgiving Day 1997, Kathleen Caronna was watching annual Macy's Parade at 72nd St. and Central Park West alongside her husband and her infant son. In 40 miles-per-hour winds, handlers marching in the parade lost control of the six-story high Cat in the Hat balloon. The errant balloon crashed into a streetlamp. A piece of the streetlamp broke off and struck Ms. Caronna in the head, knocking her unconscious. Caronna was in a coma for 22 days after emergency surgery. She suffered skull fractures, brain damage and partial loss of vision. She filed a $395 million lawsuit against the city, Macy's and the lamppost manufacturer. In 2001, she settled for an undisclosed amount.
On October 11, 2006, a Cirrus SR20 plane piloted by New York Yankees' pitcher Cory Lidle crashed into the Belaire Apartments at E. 72nd Street on New York City's Upper East Side. Lidle and flight instructor Tyler Stanger were both killed. Their plane crashed into Kathleen Coronna's bedroom.
On October 11, 2006, a Cirrus SR20 plane piloted by New York Yankees' pitcher Cory Lidle crashed into the Belaire Apartments at E. 72nd Street on New York City's Upper East Side. Lidle and flight instructor Tyler Stanger were both killed. Their plane crashed into Kathleen Coronna's bedroom.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
balloon
This week's challenge word on another illustration blog is "balloon".
Just prior to turning nineteen, I went to Walt Disney World with three of my friends. This was my first vacation without my parents. I told about this trip in a previous blog. My first day in Walt Disney's Magic Kingdom was great. After spending a fun but exhausting day, my friends and I headed back to our hotel. Somnolent, we slogged the length of the sparsely-lit Main Street USA towards the Monorail that would take us to the parking lot. Just before we exited, I purchased a Mickey Mouse-head balloon for fifty cents (remember, this was 1980). There I was, eighteen-years old, springing toward the Monorail with a balloon string in my fist and a wide grin across my face.
We waited on the platform, in the thick and shifting throng, for the next Monorail to arrive. The sleek transport snaked into the station. It came to a silent stop and the hydraulic doors opened with a hiss. The individual cabins were fitted with futuristic bench seats, upholstered in undentable teal plastic. They were not unlike the back seat of my father's 1968 Dodge Dart. They seated approximately ten passengers. My friends, my balloon and I chose an empty cabin and slid across the seat to accommodate everyone. A young couple and their son joined our cabin and occupied the bench seat opposite us. The boy was about nine or ten and he had a balloon, too. The balloon looked more age appropriate for him than it did me.
The doors to the Monorail shushed back into place and we began moving. I sat, holding my balloon and smiled at the young boy across from me as he held his balloon. Suddenly, without warning, his balloon burst. BANG! It hadn't touched anything. It hadn't bumped the low ceiling. It just burst- BANG! We were all startled, but even more so, when the boy spontaneously erupted into a spewing fountain of inconsolable cries and tears. His parents tried unsuccessfully to comfort him. Instantly, I spoke up and offered my balloon to the boy. "Here", I said, "you can have mine." His parents looked at me with expressions of relief and gratitude as I relinquished my balloon. His mom wrapped one arm around the boy's shoulders and gestured to me with her other arm—her hand palm up and extended in my direction. "What do you say to the nice man?", she prompted her son. The boy looked up at the balloon. Then, he looked, expressionless, at me.
"I wanted a red one.", he said.
We waited on the platform, in the thick and shifting throng, for the next Monorail to arrive. The sleek transport snaked into the station. It came to a silent stop and the hydraulic doors opened with a hiss. The individual cabins were fitted with futuristic bench seats, upholstered in undentable teal plastic. They were not unlike the back seat of my father's 1968 Dodge Dart. They seated approximately ten passengers. My friends, my balloon and I chose an empty cabin and slid across the seat to accommodate everyone. A young couple and their son joined our cabin and occupied the bench seat opposite us. The boy was about nine or ten and he had a balloon, too. The balloon looked more age appropriate for him than it did me.
The doors to the Monorail shushed back into place and we began moving. I sat, holding my balloon and smiled at the young boy across from me as he held his balloon. Suddenly, without warning, his balloon burst. BANG! It hadn't touched anything. It hadn't bumped the low ceiling. It just burst- BANG! We were all startled, but even more so, when the boy spontaneously erupted into a spewing fountain of inconsolable cries and tears. His parents tried unsuccessfully to comfort him. Instantly, I spoke up and offered my balloon to the boy. "Here", I said, "you can have mine." His parents looked at me with expressions of relief and gratitude as I relinquished my balloon. His mom wrapped one arm around the boy's shoulders and gestured to me with her other arm—her hand palm up and extended in my direction. "What do you say to the nice man?", she prompted her son. The boy looked up at the balloon. Then, he looked, expressionless, at me.
"I wanted a red one.", he said.
Friday, November 28, 2008
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