It’s absolutely fascinating, and there were many times I was
tempted to make a documentary about just this: sound and ears and implants.
Instead, I found a way to work short scientific sections into the larger,
narrative story about Allison and my parents. To do this, I called upon my
friend Kate Diago. She’s an artist and an incredible illustrator, and we worked
together to come up with a series of drawings to animate my explanations.
Using watercolor to represent sound and its path through the
ear, we would paint on the black and white drawings, taking dozens of pictures
along the way.
Here’s an example of a picture we’d start with, before
watercolor:
There were many times we messed up. There were many times
we’d finish a sequence and then I’d decide that the wording of the explanation
(voice-over) needed to be re-written, which meant we needed to re-paint and
re-shoot that sequence. Other times, I’d decide that the way I’d originally
conceived the sequence wasn’t really the best way, and she’d need to completely
re-draw the set. Kate was very patient. Thank you, Kate.
I was working this last Saturday, painting and shooting the
very last sequence. Kate had given me a few copies of the drawing of the ear,
in case I messed one (or two) up. I was absolutely sure that this time I wasn’t
going to mess up – I knew what I was doing and I knew I wouldn’t change my mind
about anything. But I did mess up. And I changed my mind. And then I had
painted on every one and I needed more.
Luckily my sister was having a party that night (my sister
who lives across the street from me) and Kate was coming and she said she’d
bring a few more copies. Phew. I could get the copies at the party and re-do everything
Sunday morning before Hannah showed up to edit.
Sunday morning the kids get me up early and we go down for
breakfast. Before I can make them anything to eat, though, my dog tells me she
would like to go out, please. My kids are old enough that, so long as someone
is in the house (like their dad, upstairs sleeping), they don’t mind my taking
Nina for a walk without them. So they stay put in their pajamas while I circle
the block with my very slow dog.
Coming back in the house, I can see that the kids are
sitting nicely at the kitchen table, drawing. I’m thankful they aren’t arguing,
that one of them isn’t crying. This is great, I think.
But as I get closer, I think, Shit! (i.e., this is not so great).
They’ve found Kate’s drawings and decided to color them in
themselves – my son with crayons, my daughter with watercolors.
In any case, they’re beautiful. And since their versions will not end up
in the movie, here they are:
Many thanks to my amazing children for all their love and support during this process,
and for reminding me of what's really important.