When I was little, winter was all about snowballs and snowmen. Getting older, it’s less about those playful times involving white fluffy stuff falling from the sky. Now it’s more about shovels and road conditions. I know, not quite as romantic. Once in a while I have to think more artistically about this barren season.

Taking pictures of frosted trees and sculpting or drawing snowmen can inspire that romantic view of winter again. On the most blustery days even curling up on the couch with a picture book about snow can cheer my winter blues.

Colorful Snowman Hats

Spotting the Lois Ehlert book, ‘Snowballs’ on the bookmobile shelf, I new I had an easy chair treasure. Bright, colorful snowman hats had me thinking about days sledding with my siblings. Coming in from an afternoon of hill and snowbank surfing, we placed hats and mittens on the register to dry. What a musty smell that created.

Musty Smells and Squishy Squash

The smell of the last winter squash I left in the porch, which froze and thawed alternately through this crazy winter weather, did not evoke such pleasant memories from youth. Scooping up that saggy, squishy squash to dispose of, did however get me longing for days in the garden, and all things that breathe summer. Muddy shoes, rumpled work gloves and bushel baskets of colorful veggies resting beneath a floppy scarecrow entice me to hangout in the fresh air for as long as possible.

A floppy scarecrow frozen with winter weather and a snowman sculpted from the first winter’s snow. What a strange companionship that would be. Would they exchange snowballs? Perhaps there’s a story in there somewhere. For now my pastels and paper will toy with the scene.

If you are looking for a good winter picture book check out Lois Ehlert’s Snowballs. Her artwork is so charming.

Life on the farm not only takes creativity but also inspires it. You find unique and useful ways to make the most of all that is available to you. This was true of my father who acquired his farm through a rent with option to buy set up. He scrimped and scraped to make the dream of owning his own place a reality. It was also true of us children. We learned to use items in ways that were not always how they were intended to be used in order to keep the place running, as all the latest gizmos and gadgets could not be afforded.

This thinking outside of the box tactic, thankfully, carried over into other parts of our lives, including our play.
While there were many practical uses for baling twine strings after they were discarded from the loosened bale of hay or straw, my sisters and I found playful uses for them too.

My dad used them to tie up his britches when he realized he’d forgotten his belt that morning.
My brothers used them to tie closed a fence when the last person to close it had misplaced the chain and hook that was supposed to fasten it shut.
But my sisters and my uses were much more creative.
Of course we did the usual crafty things like; braid them into jump ropes, and weave them into mats and plant hangers, but then we took it one more imaginative step further.
Mother often kept our hair short for ease of cleaning and so as not to get tangled when we were working. We always wished we had long locks, so we created our own. We tucked many strands under our hats and pranced about like beauty queens. Or on occasion held them at the bands of our pants and pretended that they were horse tails. Our imaginations took us to fancy balls as princesses, or to the highest ridge where all the stallions stood their ground.
My sister was always best at coming up with the imaginative games. But now I’m mining the memories of our youthful experiences and putting them into tales to share with other youngsters, in hopes that they will become creative story tellers too.

I no longer have cast off baling twine at my disposal, but I find many varied trinkets that others have no use for and I give them new life.
It is the joy of being an artist. Go to my site’s page of figures and ornaments to see where I put some of those trinkets to use.

You can also check out some of the uses other artists are still finding for recycled baling twine on Pinterest.

Often I cuss the little bits and strands of string that wrap themselves around the wheels of my sewing chair impeding its motion, but then I remember the line from Mouse Hunt:

“Life without string is chaos.”

And it would have deprived us of so much creative play.

Some days the world can seem so big. Occasionally we feel like we’re biting off more than we can chew.

Most of the time, to address these feelings, we simply need to take a deep breath and settle in to how we want to present our own story.

We all have our own stories to tell. Sometimes it can be hard to find the best way to share them. And it’s just as important to listen to the stories of others.

I’d been feeling a little overwhelmed by some tasks in my life recently. To quiet my anxiety I flipped through some children’s books I’d acquired over the past few years. Children’s book authors and illustrators are the best at helping us get in touch with the more simple times of our youth, and occasionally helping with getting through some of the tough situations that life throws at us, even as youngsters.

One of the first books I picked up was “One Love.” The cheerful illustrations by Vanessa Brantley-Newton, and the words of Bob Marley, which the book is based on, lifted my spirits. It reminded me that no matter how different we are, or whether our opinions on matters vary, we are all united in that one great LOVE. We are united in story. It is a story of life and how we are all connected in it. We just need to look at the beauty of it more often than focusing on the ugliness that can crop up.

My illustration for today’s post is done in pencil and white chalk on toned paper.
View more of Vanessa’s lovely work in the link I provided, and also on her facebook page.

Become part of the narrative and be united in story with those around you.

For my most recent submission to the SCBWI Illustrator’s gallery and competition; prompt words “Two Truths and a Lie”, I did a drawing using colored pencils. How to illustrate this abstract concept in a three paneled piece without using words? My mind went immediately to the Lies told by fishermen. The only truths are: that the fisherman left to go fishing, and the reality of what’s in their fish basket when they return. What is expounded upon by the fisherman about the events of their adventure can only be deciphered by the reactions of the companions who accompanied them on the adventure. There’s usually a lie in there somewhere.

I wanted to push myself further in my use of colored pencils for this project. Most of my past colored pencil pieces have been of a pastel/softer nature in terms of texture. I also wanted to use a limited palette.

I’d listened in on conversations between other colored pencil artists and had tried some of their thoughts on blending, including using crumbs of a gum eraser to rub into and blend colors. It did blend nicely, but also lifted more color out than I had desired. I’ve also tried using paper blending sticks but was not satisfied with the results I was getting, so I fell back on my favorite blending utensil, the side of my finger.

But a big ol’ finger is not advantageous in getting into small narrow areas. I’ve not found anything with the similar grabbing and blending feel/power of skin. The closest I’ve come is an eye makeup blending wand. It could still be more rubbery and soft. I’ll keep looking, but for now, skin is ‘in’.

What’s NOT in is heading down to the river for a warm sunny afternoon of fishing and catching the one that was “THAT BIG!” It is, after all, the middle of October in Wisconsin.

Sitting down in my warm house to write this post I thought I’d look into who’s doing what in colored pencils. I came upon a site touting 25 Colored Pencil Artists Worth A Follow On Instagram. I didn’t dig further into individual artist’s websites, but thought the samplings of their choices were interesting. You can check them out for yourself.

At a recent SCBWI Illustration Workshop I had the opportunity to get tips and advice from inspiring illustrator Eliza Wheeler. Her presentation left me eager to get back home and experiment with watercolors some more.

Watercolors are tough. They require a lot of patience and planning. These are two traits that I have a limited supply of and always need to work on integrating into the illustrator part of my life. Watercolors however, are one of the beauties in life that can inspire me to give that greater effort. They draw you into stories, and that’s what children’s books are all about: being drawn into stories. We want to live in worlds that are carefree, exciting and beautiful.

Eliza Wheeler’s works are beautiful and definitely draw you into the world of the stories she’s illustrating.
Before coming to the workshop she asked attendees to gather some examples of their favorite illustrator’s works whom they drew inspiration from. I was delighted to see that one of her favorites was also one of mine, Lisbeth Zwerger.

I came upon some of Lisbeth Zwerger’s works first through books my daughter’s purchased when our local school held book fairs. Then I started watching for them wherever I went, picking one up, unbelievably, at a community garage sale. What a treasure. Her awareness of and great use of space totally blows me away. How is it she can make so much of nothing.

I scan through the books whenever I’m preparing to pick up my brushes and paints.
They came out two weeks ago when I decided I would get a start on a piece I wanted to create for my living room.
I tried to incorporate some of what Eliza talked about, including glazing and layering colors.
I’ve still more to learn about watercolors. I think I have some nice passages in this piece even though I continually need to pay attention to not overworking areas. Art is always a work in progress.

One of my favorite illustrators is Norman Rockwell. He often illustrated children in their most awkward and vulnerable moments. I believe it’s in those moments that we can find out the most about ourselves. And it is in those findings that we can see truly how we need to relate to one another. For if we see that we are weak, strong, brave, or unsure, then certainly others are as well. To know how we’d like others to respond to our propensities, we can then ascertain how we should respond to others’ needs.

In a post by The Saturday Evening Post it was stated that “…Rockwell’s art captured the simplest of moments, providing profound insight into the interactions of man.”
And in that same article there was a quote from Rockwell’s granddaughter Abigail Rockwell, where she said her Grandfather’s work was, “…about finding that goodness in ourselves and others,”.

Let’s look not only inside, but outside as well, and nurture the serenity in both.

My posted illustration is a marker and ink piece.

I spent all day yesterday gardening in the great outdoors, so today as it poured outside, I brought some of the memories of working outdoors on the farm to my blank page. I’m still struggling with markers so I figured the more I work with them the better I’ll get.

I had some photos that I’d taken a year ago as the fields yellowed and vibrant color dressed the trees. Then there was a morning where frost blued the remaining green grasses and sparkled on the heads of brown weed stalks at the roadsides. I had to capture that too. Those two photos were my references for today’s marker paintings.

The cattle in the photo were mostly hidden by the tall roadside weeds so I brought them more to the forefront. Looking up hereford faces in my reference books I wondered what famous works had been done of cattle. I came upon a couple of names, Winslow Homer and Julien Dupre. Both have works that I could look at for hours. Check out the Julien Dupre paintings at this sight. Many are full of movement, and are endearing to anyone who grew up on a farm.

Collecting wild things was an exciting part of my youth. My siblings and I were collectors of frogs, field mice, dandelions, acorn caps, and a few edible items like raspberries along the fence line and hickory nuts from the pasture. Of course we had to watch out for the ones that were crusty with cow leftovers.
These are the memories that I draw from for my art and in my writing.

Author Bruce Handy wrote in his book, WILD THINGS The Joy of Reading Children’s Literature as an Adult, about how Beverly Cleary and Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote from their life experiences, as many writers do. His wit and research combine to make an enjoyable read about many of the books you had loved from your youth, and thought you knew. But had you taken them at face value, and had you missed some of the deeper meanings as a child? Perhaps you should go back and take a look. But first, check out Bruce Handy’s book, it’s a collection of his interesting introspects on a variety of books that were, and still are, beloved by youth growing up. I highly recommend it.

And check out my collection of fruit set up for a still life done in pastel.
It’s a beautiful day. Perhaps I’ll go out and see what other wild things I can collect.

Before we tore off the old porch on our house, I would bring the last few harvest items from my yard and leave them there in the cool evening shadows of the porch. The last apples from the tree were now handy for a quick apple pie. Carrots, crusty with dirt, could be scrubbed up and steamed to savor like fresh picked jewels, for at least a month after the garden had been closed down.

This last fall I brought the few remaining beets from the garden, into our new, smaller porch, just as all the leaves were about to let go of their hold on the trees. A stow away oak leaf made his way in with the purple nuggets, so I included him in the photo I just had to snap, since their color was so regal.

The small basket of gems got kicked aside as people hustled in and out with all the last minute chores of readying the yard for it’s long winter’s sleep. It was months before I noticed them tucked back there in the corner behind my old muddy work boots, a couple lawn chairs, and the kid’s play ball that never made it back into the garage. They were shriveled and had gotten a bit tough.

I was immediately reminded of the apple head dolls that my younger sister and I made when we were younger. We made old lady apple head dolls, apple head farmers, even apple head clowns. Then we sold them to friends and at the local flea market. It was my first experience of selling something I made. It was I’m sure the impetus for my Aunt giving some of the clay she made ceramics with, to my sister and I. Clay was much more awkward to work with, oozing through fingers, and squishing when you least wanted it to. Over time, and with much practice, it became much easier to make the clay do what I wanted it to, and eventually I started making the figures that can now be seen on my website.
I still make old ladies, farmers and clowns, but I also make a whole host of other characters, whom I then construct wire and wood bodies for to then costume.
The article on Apple Head Dolls that I’ve linked shows how the doll creator also assembled bodies for the apple head dolls to costume and pose.

I dragged the photo I snapped of those beets out of an old photo album and did the acrylic painting that I’m posting. I Beet-leaf I’ve made a good representation of them.

I just finished reading a book about an artist while simultaneously working on a few sketches using another collection of used markers. This collection of markers was massive, and the tips of a finer point. I decided it was a fine opportunity to try using some cross hatching techniques, with hopes that I wouldn’t muddy the whole piece. I am after all still experimenting with this whole marker thing.

My inspiration for the drawing, a photograph by Norma Joseph, that I saw in one of my reference books titled: Royal Geographical Society Illustrated. Her photo was beautifully exotic and colorful, which seemed perfect for a marker experiment.

It was the perfect coinciding experiment for the book I was reading, Vincent and Theo the Van Gogh brothers, by Deborah Heiligman. It was an interesting and BEAUTIFUL read. I learned so much more about the man, Vincent, and the impetus and drive associated with the creation of his art.
There were some of his drawings inserted into the book, and the marks he made on his pieces kept pushing me forward in my efforts to complete the piece I was working on. Marker is pretty unforgiving, and I was trying to be bold and yet sure of the marks I was putting down. It was a fun experiment, and I don’t know how well I did, but it was worth the effort. It’s good to learn something new, and always push yourself a little more. It seemed to be a thought at the forefront of Vincents thinking.
Vincent used cross hatching in many of his drawings, so I wanted to investigate who some of the best drawers were. I found this very good post that addressed the issue titled 10 Master Drawers (and what they teach us) which I think any illustrator would be interested in checking out. Also check out the book on the Van Gogh brothers, I’d recommend it to anyone.