【 桂花巷心得延續作業 】

在腳步匆忙、喧嚷的台北午後，我的視線駐足在內湖巷弄裡名叫『小牧人』的手作工坊前，它彷彿向我宣示著眾人皆醉我獨醒的寧靜，沈靜的柚木色裝潢、一字排開的七色彩椅、與一件件充滿靈魂的手作小物，都叫我久久無法將眼光移開......。

它成功地將烘培手作『物化』為一堂堂有幸福感的教學課程，與一般烘培手作教室不同的是，從教室裡的各個角落到每一堂烘培小物課都有專屬於自己的故事，於是在我眼前的不再是『商品』，而是一段段動人的故事，望著眼前的光景，我不由自主的報名了手工甜點課程，腦中期許著在未來的每一天，都能透過雙手感受美好的生活。

2012 ECA Degree Show

Hello everyone! It's me again~~~ Haven't seen you guys for ages!  Finally I upload my  degree show photos. Still hope you can come to visit. 

During my time at ECA I have designed and produced a children’s book called The Magic Sheep. The aim of this book made of calico is to fill children with both warmth and happiness by fueling their imagination. In order to do so, the work is meant to be touched and felt. It is believed that touch-based perception has important social learning effects and plays an important role within a child’s exploration of its environment. Thus, the work intends to contribute to the development of the young child’s senses.

My story is about a magic sheep that uses her pair of magic knitting wands in order to help animals living in a dark forest. Some time later, she notices that she has lost her way! But luckily she has made many friends through all her good deeds and in return for her kindness everybody guides her on her way back home.

好久不見拉！！這次來介紹我的畢業展，這次我所有的東西包括牆面全部都用胚布包住，想要呈現溫馨的空間，同時也意味著所有的作品都是可以觸摸的，這次展出的作品主要是我自己寫的一本童書 “魔法小羊”，這本繪本也是全部手工做的布書，希望剛好有在英國愛丁堡的大家可以親自來看看喔！之後會在介紹其他同學們的作品，也是很值得一看得喔！！

The Magic Sheep bookcase

My degree show space

My degree show space

Paper Wings---1972

Text from an image and image from a text. A collaboration between Illustration students at Edinburgh College of Art and Creative Writing students on the MSc course at the University of Edinburgh again~~~ The theme is "1972" this year, you can find other works from here. My writer is Sarah Kamlet, I really like her story!

   Paper Wings

This is the year of the butterfly. Once a century, great quivering swarms of them descend upon this region, their blue-winged bodies alighting in trees and on any unoccupied surface. The last time they were here was 1762, and there’s been speculation about whether they would ever come back again. The world has changed so much. Back then this area was mostly open woodland with a few villages sprinkled here and there, like freckles on the giant face of the forest. Now the land has become industrialized, filled in with bigger cities full of stone streets and smoking factories.

To my surprise, the butterflies appear on a Saturday morning in April and the city has transformed overnight from gray stone to sapphire jewel. Thin, lively wings flutter against my bedroom window. It’s a wondrous sight. My younger brother, Thomas, and I have never seen them live. We’ve only studied anatomical illustrations in the yellowed pages of our father’s books.

They hang in clumps off drainpipes and sun themselves on the slate roofs. We see the baker walk passed carrying a tray of bread, butterflies draped round his neck like an azure scarf.

“Let them in!” Thomas says.

I unlatch the window and open it wide. The blue beauties drift into my room and gently dance around our heads, perch in our hair, their wings tickling our ears. We twirl and twirl; we cannot remember a time when we’ve been happier.

Thomas hears the slightest crunch and stops mid-spin. He lifts his foot and we see a butterfly on the wood floor, one of its wings crushed, the other wing thrashing against the ground, trying and failing to take flight. Thomas cries. His face is scrunched up with tears, and I say, “Don’t fret. We can fix him.”

I scoop the tiny insect into my cupped hands and we carry him to our father’s library where we fashion a new wing for him out of paper. When Thomas pins the new paper wing on, the pin punctures its delicate body and it dies.

Consumed by guilt and sadness, we show our father that evening what we’ve done. He pats us on our heads and says, “It’s not your fault. None of them live for long.”

A week later, the streets of town are littered with perished butterflies. People sweep away their gossamer bodies with brooms or grind them into a fine dust under their steps. The city is gray once more. We go about our business like always. I press the butterfly with the paper wing in between the pages of a book, so that my descendents in a century’s time might discover it. I wonder if the butterflies will return in one hundred years and what kind of world will greet them then. I hope they do. Everyone should enjoy beauty while it lasts.

Last Tango in Paris

I designed this posters of Italian Film -" Last Tango in Paris". It will be exhibited at Filmhouse and Italian Institute of Culture, Edinburgh during the Italian Film Festival in April 2012. This film is about a young Parisian woman begins a sordid affair with a middle-aged American businessman who lays out ground rules that their clandestine relationship will be based only on sex. They don't want to show their real identity to each other, so that's why I draw they wear masks.

這個海報即將要在四月份在愛丁堡展出囉！我這次設計的電影是“Last Tango in Paris",男主角是一個已過中年的男子保羅來自美國的農村，四處流浪，自我放逐，最後來到異鄉巴黎，依然感到迷惘而絕望。直到他在空屋碰到了珍，出生於中產階級，一個平凡善良，已訂婚的女孩。對他而言生命中的希望，便是和珍這樣的女子相處溝通。在他的想法裡，性是重要的，兩人相互約定不過問彼此、不提姓名，於小屋裡展開一場場激烈性愛．兩個個體真誠地透過肉體相濡以沫，這也是他面對外界現實環伺，處處進逼的孤絕處境下的唯一慰藉。 逐漸撫平喪妻之痛的保羅，保羅對珍越加升高的佔有慾，卻遭到珍拒絕，為這段注定毀滅的愛情悲劇揭開序幕...。 

其實這部電影有點難懂~哈！但我還是盡量理解設計出這張海報，我利用Tango的舞蹈姿勢，顯示出兩人的關係，兩人雖然都想要隱藏自己真實的身分，但其實男主角保羅已經漸漸得越來越在意珍，於是他越來越想要知道珍的真實姓名，無奈珍撇過頭一直抗拒著......

I got my own website ♥

Hi! I’m a Freelance Illustrator currently living in Edinburgh, having studied illustration at Edinburgh college of Art. My work usually features detailed repetitive patterns with fun, playful characters. I like to write and illustrate children's books and I have a passion for handmade objects as well!! Finally I have my own website ♥♥  http://shortylee.com/


來自台灣愛幻想的女生，目前人在英倫愛丁堡繼續發夢，一路朝著插畫家這條不歸路走走跳跳 :-)

Flight of Fancy

Thanks to Kate McLelland for organising an exhibition at The Red Door Gallery for which I made "The rocket bird." The Red Door Gallery is one of Edinburgh’s most distinctive boutique art spaces. 

這是一隻幻想自己能飛到外太空的火箭鳥，希望給人一種暖暖及永不放棄夢想的感覺，這件作品展出在“The Red Door Gallery",是一個提供很多年輕插畫家秀出自己作品的機會，買很多插畫家手工設計的小物，是一間我很喜歡的店喔！！＾＾

Two In The Bush

Two In The Bush is a collaboration exhibition at Forest Cafe in Edinburgh.All the works have been collected in a book, it can be viewed and purchased in here. My writer is Samantha Tucker,I really felt happy to collaborate with her!

    

     Cleaner

Her day begins with a love affair:

fingering found foods behind the oven,

the breakfast blueberries training circuit.

Coriander is a turbaned man faltering in the palette,

her tongue gets busy pushing him away.

Mayonnaise limps into slug trails,

asparagus heads make plush military cylinders,

industrious and honoring glasnost.

Splashed prunes, feline and crapulent leave rude stains.

She hopes no-one will come in,

disturb her flirting with the squash,

reaching for the bacon rind.

She can almost smell the piquant rashers,

hear their popping chorus in the fryer.

She wants to claim the onion skins,

rub them coarse against her body

until she reeks of them.

She wishes the occupants would leave her more;

long and slippery soaked cinnamon bark sticks-

wet custard to lather up-

something to chew on.

In the holidays when no-one’s there

she lets herself into the flat,

chopsticks tangled in her hair,

throws off her coat,

j-cloths ragged blue squares,

moves the oven all the way out

and swims down into the cooking oil.

Only when Soya sauce smashes from

the oriental shelf into cartoon pixels

is she covered; raking birdlike at chicken bones,

adding ketchup- squirted in climactic, holy circles.

    

   Hospitality

I invited you to my house

and you said nothing.

I gave you a towel that night-

rejected. Perhaps you were already clean.

Or maybe you had a towel, softer than mine,

Egyptian cotton, a bather’s dream.

I cooked aubergines. You left them

leathery and lovely, clinging in their jackets.

I offered ginger snaps, to compliment your nudeness.

You merely rustled the packets.

I wondered if dimming the lights would help-

to soften your pubic outline,

or turning up the thermostat, to let moisture

keel from your skin, pelican from the thick side of your thigh wing.

I wanted to take you for cocktails, down the road,

but you didn’t drink, and wouldn’t leave,

all the time you were content to be there,

on the three-seater settee, unsaddled, divine-

enjoying your own smell,

Tahitian vanilla pressed with lime.

What does it all add up to?

Washed hair buzzing of lacquer and wine,

you an origami swan learning to be.

Me & My partner 

Samantha Tucker

 ♥