Baby Wearing and Mirroring

Javanese Man wearing his daughter. Source: open source internet

Mirroring is the behaviour in which one person unconsciously imitates the gesture, speech pattern, or attitude of another. Mirroring often occurs in social situations, particularly in the company of close friends or family. The concept often affects other individuals’ notions about the individual that is exhibiting mirroring behaviors, which can lead to the individual building rapport with others. ” Wikipedia

When my elder daughter was born, I looked for ways to be able to carry her and still have my hands free. We were living in London at that time and using a pushchair was inconvenient in so many ways. Many tube stations did not have lifts or escalators which meant that I had to carry the pushchair up a long flight of stairs, most of the time on my own. If I was lucky, someone would help and I’d lift the back holding the handles while the kind person would lift the pushchair from the foot rest or bars connecting the front wheels, and walk up backwards. These kind souls were mostly women or men with strollers or pushchairs of their own. When this happened, we would lift one pushchair first and collect the other after.

I invested in a sling that looks much like the one in the photo you see. It was a ring sling where two rings held the cloth together, using dynamic tension coupled with the baby’s weight to keep the infant held. It was the best piece of material I’d ever bought. The philosopher-princess was locked in the sling where she snuggled, cuddled, and bonded with me as I did the food shopping, walked in the park, hoovered the floors, and cooked the meals. Basically, she went everywhere with me snug as a bug in her light blue sling. Mine was padded at the shoulders which made baby wearing comfortable.

When the ballerina-princess was born eight years later, I graduated to another type of sling–the wrap sling. This was essentially a long piece of cloth that you wrap around you and your baby and then tie around your waist to keep the baby in. I was more confident then of baby wearing so was a little more courageous. This sling gave me more flexibility in that I could wear my daughter straddled on my hip, on my back, or in the front. When I was cooking, I wore her on my back, so she could see what I was doing; I tied her high enough over my right shoulder so she could peek over.

Baby wearing is an ancient tradition spanning the whole of Asia, Africa, Latin America, and Europe. A children’s book author friend even wrote a book about it. This is a non-fiction picture book and the illustrations and artwork are simply gorgeous. What I love about Susan’s book is that it promotes all kinds of diversity and shines a spotlight on the different cultures in the world showing children that underpinning us all is the love we have for our children and the similar ways we care for them.

During the launch of Mina’s Magic Malong, someone in the audience asked where I got the idea of the malong from. In Southeast Asia, women and men have been wearing their babies in sarongs or malongs for the longest time. When I held my babies hands-free in their slings, I could have conversations with them and I could look into their eyes as they looked into mine. This allowed me to bond with my girls while doing other essential things. Mirroring is a behaviour where children mimic the gestures, speech, and actions of their caregivers. That’s how children learn. When they see their caregivers mirroring positive actions back to them, children learn acceptance, they learn empathy, and they feel affirmed. On page 22 of Mina’s Magic Malong, “Ella opens her eyes and sees herself in Mina’s dark, brown pupils. She feel safe being folded inside the malong with Mina.” The book conveys the bond between a caregiver and the child, a bond which is so important for child development.

There are often many layers to a children’s picture book. As parents, we can help our children make meaning of the pictures by asking them to talk about what they see. You can get them to tell you 1) What’s happening in the picture? 2) What they see in the picture that makes them say what they’ve said? 3) What else can they see or find? These visual thinking strategies (VTS) help engage children with the illustrations and help them make meaning of the images by expanding on their surface impressions. In fact, these are strategies that museum educators use to get kids visiting museuems to talk about the artworks. Fascinating stuff, isn’t it? All these critical thinking questions also help young readers engage with the text subconsciously.

I leave you this image for you to ponder on.

I don’t know where this photo originated but here’s a tribal woman wearing her baby in a basket.

Disclaimer: I am in no way advocating that you wear your baby. Only you know what’s best for you and your child.

When the World is a Water-coloured palette

Watercolor is an alchemical medium – colors mixing with water, joining with it, being extended by it – creating new life where none had been before.”

Joseph Raffael

Lim Cheng Hoe’s water-colour depiction of the Singapore River is simply my most favourite image of Singapore’s trading artery in the 20th century. This one was painted in 1962 and it hangs in the National Gallery of Singapore.

Notice how the colours bleed into the paper and shapes, forming an abstract, diluted representation of life by the river. The hazy effect—a smudging of colours—is caused by diluting watercolours with more  water than needed: it lends this piece a dream-like quality. The block of yellows and dots of blues are still so distinct, it feels like this piece was only completed yesterday. Uncannily, the blotching of water stains does remind one of water. But could the boat be a clue and we are reading Lim’s visual narrative using our personal experiences to make connections? Does anyone feel that this could be a Chinese landscape painting? 

I love anything rendered in watercolours. Perhaps, it is because water colours were the first art materials I used in childhood and they are reminiscent of an idyllic past. Watercolours were easy enough to find—boxes with lids that contained circles of colours. They were economical too—great presents for birthdays. A plastic cup for water, a crude brush, and some paper—it doesn’t have to be of good quality either—were all you needed to keep a child interested in art occupied for hours. I painted flowers, houses, grass, sampan boats (much like what you see in Lim’s piece), and stick figures with skirts and trousers to fill in with watered down hues. 

In Singapore River, Lim has managed to capture a proverbial everyday scene in the early 60s. It’s a Romantic imagination of this river. Lim painted en plein aire, outside, in the humidity and heat that cleave themselves to this nation-state. In my imagination of how Lim painted, the scene in my mind’s eye is hardly Romantic. I know the reality of living in the tropics where sometimes, it is just too hot in the day to be out and about. I also know that when Lim was painting, the River was a convenient source for tipping one’s rubbish and waste. The stench must’ve been strong. But the inclination to capture a scene, documenting a way of life then, must’ve been stronger. 

The Singapore River still exists. It’s a cleaned up and less smelly version. In fact, there is now no stench at all. The Romantic imagination captured all those decades ago has now materialised and become reality. Today, a Disneyesque version of the boats in Lim’s painting ply the water, ferrying tourists from one end of the river the the other. 

As many know, art forms a very important part of my life. I’ve chosen to focus on picture books because it is often the art between the pages of the book that I’m drawn to. That’s not to say that I disregard the story or the writing. I find, more often than not, when the writing is wonderful, good art inevitably follows. These two modalities in the arts come hand in hand. 

When Penguin Random House Southeast Asia acquired Mina’s Magic Malong last year, I had no idea that the illustrator would be a water colourist. A picture book author does not have control over these things. Once the manuscript is written and handed over to the publishing house’s editorial team, it’s time to let go and work on your next project. It’s the house that chooses the illustrator. But to add to that, because I believe in the hocus-pocus way life can meander, it is also the work that chooses the illustrator in a cosmic kind of way. Creation works on multi-levels and is multi-layered. And, who knows how the Universe makes so many things happen.

The process with Novita Elisa was a unique one because she was PRH’s subsequent choice. There were some complications with the first choice, details of which I’m not privy to share because I don’t know them. It was such a relief to see the proofs for the book and to see that Novita Elisa got the story of Mina’s Magic Malong. The bonus for me is that her artwork for the book was completed in water colours. Hence, this gives the picture book a vintage feel. There are similar qualities I see in Novita’s work that draw me in to Lim’s: the running or smudging of colours on the paper, the vibrant flashes and blotches of colours, the nostalgia. 

Well, folks, like I said, when your manuscript has been submitted, it’s time to let go. Following my own advice, I did just that and have started on my next picture book. I wonder who the illustrator will be this time.

Mina’s Magic Malong is found in all good bookstores and on Amazon. 

Mina’s Magic Malong gives voice to an often invisible group.”

Emily Lim-Leh