For generations of creative kids, some of whom are now fine artists, Ed Emberley's step-by-step cartooning manuals such as the 1970 classic "Ed Emberley's Drawing Book of Animals" can be summed up in a few words: Best. Books. Ever. On Saturday, Emberley will make a rare Los Angeles appearance at an exhibition featuring original mock-ups from his beloved drawing books -- 13 of which are still in print -- along with new works.
The show, "Ed Emberley & Friends," will also feature murals by five contemporary artists including curator Caleb Neelon and Los Angeles-based painters Seonna Hong and Saelee Oh -- all of whom learned to draw the Emberley way.
Breaking a drawing down into simple shapes and squiggles, the award-winning children's book illustrator crafted easy-to-follow visual recipes for colorful characters that have an innocent charm and super-cute factor that have endured for 40 years after they were created. (I mean, just look at that little yellow mouse, below.)
For the show, Emberley has created a signed, limited edition of 18-by-24-inch prints of the animals, above, and one of his lessons, right.
Ideal for a nursery or kid's room, and mighty tempting for nostalgic adults who also admire midcentury design, the prints will sell for $30 each. Original Emberley drawings are priced at $300 and all proceeds will benefit children's hospitals and the Art for Kool Kidz program.
The artist reception, which is open to the public, is Saturday from 7-10 p.m. at the Scion Installation L.A., 3521 Helms Ave., Culver City. The show runs until Aug. 7.
-- David A. Keeps
A monkey pile of Japanese teak chimpanzees, slightly altered from Kay Bojesen's Danish original. The little one in the middle was on a shelf in my dad's closet growing up and the rest are from yard sales over the years. In the last few months we've used them in our son's room as a mobile (with vine-green yarn)(too dangerous), coat hanger (upside-down off the back of the door-too fragile), and semaphore (Beatles "HELP"-style for "FAOM", which didn't look that good- actually neither did HELP, as they changed it to the more design-friendly NUJV.) The new project is to make a little Ofuro hot tub barrel to keep them in, Macaque-style. If that doesn't work they're going up on a shelf.
What fun to discover my (now) kooky notebook and crazy paper dolls I made when I was 11. It was the early 80's and I was just discovering fashion. I had a love for all the era's usual suspects- Chic, Jordache, Calvin Klein, Sasson, Gloria Vanderbilt, Bonjour, and yes, Jones New York (?!?). 
Reference Library/Stork Bites Man & South Willard join together like a Lego to present Shrimp Shop, which will likely be the coolest shopping experience you'll ever have with your kid. Happening from this Saturday with an opening bash at 2-4pm.
While going yard saling, flea marketing, or thrifting, John & I always have a mental list of certain things that if we're lucky enough to find them, it makes our day (vintage Dansk items, rare art books, cool 70's pendants), weekend (paintings, silkscreens, art pottery, ), month (Milo Baughman tables, Joe Colombo light), or possibly year (Eames lounge chairs with their matching ottomans, Pierre Paulin chairs). But there are some items that still elude us, making them even more desirable, as the more you can't have something, the more you want it. This is the case with trying to find a 1972 Kenner Blythe doll. I started looking for one about 8 years ago. I had a few (10++) of the reissued Takara Blythe dolls that I would buy at Toy Tokyo when I lived in New York, but to be honest, I would have traded them all for one of the original Kenner Blythe Dolls. It didn't matter that the Kenners usually had cut frizzy hair, chewed feet, rubbed off make-up, scuff marks and broken leg joints. They were the original doll, the muse to the new ones, made the year after I was born and I really, really, wanted one. To make matters worse, the ones that were in somewhat ok condition usually go for $1,000 or up on ebay and I just could never justify spending that kind of money. So began my search, or shall I say obsession with finding one. For years and years I wouldn't pass a box of moldy dolls without rooting through in hopes that she'd be there. I would answer ads that advertised 70's dolls and would end up at a doll collectors house looking at porcelain babies or Malibu Barbies with missing arms. I'd ask friends older sisters (or moms) if they had one stashed in the attic, go to auctions where old toys were advertised, check out the stuffed toy and doll sections at thrift shops, I would even make John sketch what she looked like to flea market vendors in hopes that they had one stashed in a shoe box. But the years passed and I never found one. Since she was only produced for one year, she's a pretty rare find. I didn't give up hope entirely, I stopped being so crazy/obsessive about finding her. Sure, I would still check out doll boxes, but I wouldn't get as upset when she wouldn't be there.
We'd never pass up a cool yard sale find just because it was designed with a child in mind, but lately we've been ramping it up (ramping=R.I.P William Safire) a bit since we'll be joined by our own child around Christmas.
