My girlfriend Paula has a keen eye for unique objects at a good price. She haunts estate sales nearly every weekend. I sometimes accompany her and where she will exit an old Portland home with a bagful of interesting, if not valuable objects, I’ll most likely emerge empty-handed. But a couple of weeks ago, I happened across a pristine, 1955 Singer Featherweight sewing machine. The gal running the sale encouraged me to make an offer. I offered half the asking price and walked away with a treasure.

Before my mother had children she was an accomplished seamstress. She made beautiful tailored suits, fully lined dresses and slacks and even experimented with millinery. Once children entered the picture she focused on clothes for “her girls” and their dolls. Our suburban ranch home reverberated with the sound of my father’s baseball games on the TV and her sewing machine humming away in the basement. When she was deep into a project, you could barely get her attention (and don’t expect a meal on the table).

So, it is no surprise that we three girls learned to sew and I am sure this exacting craft has informed my creative work to this day. My motto of “draw, erase, draw again” is derived from the school of “stitch, check for puckers, tear out and stitch again”. Sewing demands patience and perseverance, care and attention (and a bit of a leap of faith to cut into that expensive fabric—measure twice, cut once!). I wish for my mom that she had had the chance to pursue her craft in a more substantial way; had cultivated relationships with like-minded creatives who might have encouraged and challenged her. Sad to say (and to my shame) her girls reached an age where we did not appreciate nor would we wear the clothes she so loved to make.

But her little sewing machine was where it all started for me, that creative thread that pulls me along still. Thank you, Mama

This boxed collection of illustrated (approximately 4″ x 4″) books is one of my treasured possessions. Purchased in 1983 (its copyright date), I’ve managed to hang onto it through many moves. I’ve often thought how lovely it would be to create a similar tiny body of work (as I do so love to work small). Perhaps someday I shall.

The impact of my first picture book, Lucky Boy, published in 2002 by Houghton Mifflin, continues to surprise me. About a year ago I heard from Marie Rochelle Macaspac who runs Switchblade Creative Studios Inc., providing marketing, design and social media for animal welfare (in particular for Muttville Senior Dog Rescue). She blogs about her adventures in dog rescue and asked that I participate in an online interview, which I was happy to do. Her first question, “Are you aware of the impact your book has made in the animal rescue community?” was easy to answer… (read more)

Hare, hare! This is the 2014 linoleum block print I used on my holiday cards. No snow this year in Portland.

I’m having  fun with the Illustration Friday prompt this week: “Slow”, and thinking very fat cat may be my way in to a new picture book.

It’s time for Little Things 14, a group show at the Guardino Gallery. The show runs Nov 28 – Dec 28 and includes artwork of a small scale (7″ and under) in all media by 42 artists (me included!).

Catch it if you can at 2939 NE Alberta, Portland, OR. The opening is Friday, Nov 28, 6-9PM.

It’s Labor Day and feeling about as lazy as this cat, but couldn’t resist the Illustration Friday prompt!

Many thanks to my friend, the lovely Kate Berube for tagging me to participate in this blog tour.  Every author/illustrator on the tour is tapped to answer a set of questions and then passes the interview on to two others – kind of a pyramid scheme of goodness.

Kate and I, along with Abbey Marble (also tagged), are members of a small picture book critique group here in Portland, Oregon. I admire Kate’s work because it is so direct and heartfelt. She tells a story with such beautiful, emotional simplicity:

She’s also makes some of funniest character sketches I’ve seen:

Kate is now represented and is very busy these days with a two picture book deal as well as other projects in the works (see Kate, just when you thought nothing would ever happen). Go, Kate, go!

Now on to the questions:

1. What am I currently working on?

As is so often the case, I start thinking I’ve lost my creative way and then something will pop up (sometimes in a dream, as happened the other night) and I’m off.

So this dream… something about a mouse with poor eyesight thinking he sees his mama. He gives the fuzzy apparition a hug and it turns out to be a twitching cat’s tail.

That’s it, just a kernel, but enough to send me to Wikipedia to look up “house mouse”. Did you know mice do have pretty poor eyesight, hence the sensitive whiskers? Mice who are blind from birth have super-normal whiskers to compensate. Mice are great swimmers and climbers and can jump up to 18 vertical inches. They usually try to maintain contact with a vertical surface (wall hugging) out of fear and anxiety. And on and on… fascinating, right?

Images spring to mind and a story takes shape.

The day came when Mama mouse did not return. The babies, now as big as Mama, save one, poked their heads out into the waning light. Blinking and sniffing, their whiskers and noses signaled all that was strange and new.

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Sometimes I wish my work was more edgy and ironic – more stylized and trendsetting, alas it is not. Perhaps that is what sets it apart, the traditional bent and sweetness I sometimes wish I could banish.

I attended a small commercial art school out of high school, but the first year focused on the fine art basics, including a life drawing class which fueled my lifelong obsession with a person’s or animal’s gesture (I’m sure this verges on voyeurism!). In my illustrations I attempt to toe the line – depicting nuanced emotion without tripping into the saccharine or maudlin.

3. Why do I write what I write?

I learned to read on my mother’s lap. We didn’t have many children’s books in our home, but my parents bought the World Book Encyclopedia series which included a couple special Childcraft volumes, among them, Storytelling and other Poems as well as Folk and Fairy Tales.

Mom as superhero.

The comfort of being read to by my mother combined with the wonderful illustrations in these books made a lasting impression.

I have no formal education as far as writing goes, nor do I have children (though my dog would beg to differ, when I make him wear his raincoat), and I don’t even have a good memory (except for that time my mom sent me off to Sunday pre-school without underwear), which makes mining my childhood for ideas pretty difficult. But, I do have a firm emotional memory of what it felt like to be a child and can place myself there in mind and body (even without underwear). From this place I hope to create stories with an emotional center and lasting impact.

4. How does my individual writing/illustrating process work?

I think I covered the writing part of this question earlier, so will focus on illustration here.

Once I have a story to illustrate I find a quiet place where I’ll be uninterrupted and read through it, making little art notes in the margins as to where I see an opportunity to enhance or clarify the action or somehow define a character. Then I create a thumbnail storyboard on tracing paper so that I can see it as a whole – the rhythm and bones of it.

If I’ve managed to capture some essence in a thumbnail I’m concerned I might lose by redrawing it, I’ll scan and enlarge the image before retracing it.

I love tracing paper. It’s cheap, not precious. It has nice tooth and enables light to envelop the drawings AND you can work and rework the drawing. It stands up to endless erasures. I prefer a cheap mechanical pencil with an 0.9 (number 2) lead, though I usually redraw some lines or parts of lines with a softer lead for emphasis at the end.

As far as the process of drawing itself goes, I find that it’s a lot like expressing a thought or opinion. I don’t necessarily know what I think or what I’m trying to say until it’s out there. And then it’s “oh, so that’s what I think about that!” (or perhaps I’m not a very deep thinker). So, for me it is a process of drawing and drawing (and erasing and redrawing) and figuring out what the drawings aren’t in order to find out what they are.

So I have a final drawing that I’m happy with, but it’s on TRACING PAPER (how dumb!). But hey, I’ve discovered I can scan the drawing and print it on hot press watercolor paper, let it dry for a day and then I can watercolor over it (not so dumb!). So there’s my big secret.

Also, full disclosure, I am color phobic. All those choices! And I’ve got a drawing I love, why would I want to mess it up trying to paint it (which I can’t erase). I struggle with color, but try to be brave and carry on. Here’s the resulting color “sketch” with watercolor and gouache.

5.   Who are the author/illustrators that you are passing the interview to?

A couple of terrifically talented picture book author/illustrators, again from Portland.

Drum roll, please…

Carolyn Digby Conahan, who discloses the following:

I’m happy to have a job that means I get to explore the world, and any idea I stumble across, or scare up, and call it work.

And Johanna Wright who has this to say about herself:

Luckily enough, I’m now a full-time author and illustrator. It’s the best job in the world and one that I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid. Not only do I get paid to make a mess and make up stories, but I now have a perfectly reasonable excuse for staring off into space for long minutes.

In recovery mode after the SCBWI Western WA Spring conference, I suffered a bout of the blues after spending three heady days with my “tribe”. There’s nothing like the exchange of energy and creativity between children’s books writers and illustrators. Such nice people, but don’t let that fool you. These people are driven! Driven to create, driven to share and driven to succeed, all under the guise of niceness.

I’ve been scratching my head, trying to figure out why a children’s book publishing professional would torture herself giving critiques to aspiring children’s book writers and illustrators. The only analogy I can draw is my love of thrift stores and estate sales. It’s what my “goodwilling” friend Lynn and I describe as the “treasure hunt” wherein we set upon a cache of stuff in hopes of scoring that special something. We are gleaners. We scan and filter for items that resonate with us. Perhaps, for the publishing professional, the treasure hides behind the skirts of the shy artist or writer.

Highlights for me were a couple of presentations by Holly McGhee, President of Pippin Properties, Inc., a NYC-based literary agency. She and her small agency represent some of the luminaries of the field of children’s writing and illustrating. Holly is accessible and passionate about children’s books. My takeaway was that she loves subtlety of character and the physical expression of what a character is feeling or experiencing. Take your time, she said. Find your yourself and your style and know the core of your story, she said. Draw every day, she said.

Alexandra Penfold, an agent with Upstart Crow completely charmed me. She’s sweet, smart and funny with a dramatic flair. She sang, she spoke French, she inspired us all. I picked up some great tips, some of which were the rule of threes, make joyful use of language and work on effective page turns!

I was lucky enough to draw Lauren Rille, Associate Art Director for Simon & Schuster for a round table critique. If you will remember, dear reader, I received a crit with Lauren about a month ago at an SCBWI OR workshop. I took her advice to heart and created a “happy babies” piece which I included in my submission for critique at this Western WA conference. She reiterated that “character is the thing” and looks for artists willing to push further and develop their portfolio and style.

It was wonderful to see Jennifer K. Mann and score a signed copy of her sweet new picture book, Two Speckled Eggs. I also picked up One Cool Friend, written by Toni Buzzeo and illustrated by my favorite, David Small as well as the hysterical Warning: DO NOT OPEN THIS BOOK! narrated by Adam Lehrhaupt and illustrated by Matthew Forsythe.

All in all a fabulous Spring conference which, in keeping with the season, gets us digging in the creative dirt and plants a seed of hopeful optimism. ENGAGE!

Sitting here on pins and needles waiting for crit partner and friend, Abbey Marble, to pick me up for the drive up to Redmond, WA. I’ve got my portfolio freshened up and I’m looking forward to seeing old friends, making the acquaintance of new friends and professional contacts. This conference is so well run and attended and is always a pick-me-up. I come away from the presentations and workshops with a revitalized sense of purpose and new ideas to explore.

As an illustrator working in my studio with periodic crit group meet ups, it is easy to feel isolated and out of the loop, so these SCBWI conferences are a vital way to remind us why we do what we do.

Here’s a sneak peak at the postcard I’ll be sharing with participants along with my portfolio.

I attended a wonderful daylong workshop at Tabor Space here in SE Portland with my picture book crit group (Abbey Marble and Kate Berube) last weekend. It was presented by our Oregon SCBWI chapter (thank you!) and featured Simon & Schuster Associate Art Director, Lauren Rille.

The workshop was focused on children’s book authors/illustrators and Lauren was wonderfully generous with very honest, yet kind, feedback. Sweet with a tangy top note! I won’t say she swears like a sailor, but she was loads of fun and had us laughing like crazy.

My takeaway was that in order to connect with readers we must create characters that tell their story through physical gesture and emotional integrity.

I am always leery of workshops that require participants to draw on command. Ugh. It elicits my performance anxiety and has never been an enjoyable experience. But Lauren loosened us up with her initial intro and focus on examples of illustrators who have mastered their character-driven craft. She gave us a few lightening round illustration assignments with prompts drawn from hats passed among us.

One assignment was to create a character exhibiting an emotion we pulled from a hat and the twist was that we couldn’t show the face of the character. I drew “anxious” from the hat:

I think I harkened back to the nightmare of my skinny legs and the tragic underwear of my youth.

Another challenge was to draw prompts from three hats. The first gave us a physical feature we had to include in the character:

The second piece of this challenge was to create three thumbnails that featured our newly created character and would tell a little story driven by the other two prompts we drew from two hats:

Given that we had a very limited time frame (15 minutes?) to create the character and then the little storyline, I was happy with the result. Plus there wasn’t enough time to get too precious or worry about being nervous with the result.

The very valuable piece of advice I gleaned from Lauren’s workshop was the importance of creating characters that we, as illustrators, and our readers can inhabit emotionally. Whether through body language or facial expression (expressed as simply as eyebrow cant) we can imbue our characters with specific and relatable identities.

I have taken Lauren’s advice to heart and have created a character not unlike my “top hat” boy who is now living a life on paper in my studio and from there, who knows??

Cheers to Lauren Rille!

Toot Toot! the 3rd issue of Tater Totter – a periodical publication for kids, compiled by friend and crit group mate Kate Berube, is now available.  Check out pages 2-3 for my contribution, Best Friends. This zine can be purchased via Kate’s etsy site.

Every year, usually over the Thanksgiving break, my lovely friend, Paula hosts a day of “carving” (as in linoleum block) at her cozy bungalow. We sip eggnog lattes and listen to great music while carving away. She is such a planner; always has a design she’s already worked out. I pretty much sit down blank (as is my usual creative state!) and go with the first idea that comes to me. This year it was this pair of deer in a wintry landscape. Brrr!

Hoping your holidays are full of good cheer and great joy…

State of Wonder host April Baer describes Sherman Alexie as “the instigator of Indies First” – a call to authors to support independent booksellers during this holiday book selling season. This is a great little interview with Alexie…
Author Calls On Writers To Staff Indie Bookstores This Weekend

There’s always a moment where I don’t want to open the lid. As long as the lid is closed there is no chance for disappointment or failure. Of course there is also no chance for surprise and delight, so fingers crossed, gritting my teeth, open it I do.

Wonder of wonders, everything appears to be okay and I carefully lift each piece and examine. Not counting fingers and toes exactly, but.. after all the hours of work forming the pieces and adding decoration, drying carefully and making it through the bisque fire, adding just enough glaze but not too much, then the glaze firing – you just hope for enough perfection to send them out into the world.

Hooray for success! I’ve got a kiln full of small pieces to show at the at Guardino Gallery‘s group show, “Little Things 13″.

Psst… the Dec/Jan 2014 issue of American Craft magazine has a nice little piece on Portland makers and specifically mentions Guardino and owner Donna Guardino. Kudos!

The past few years have been filled with loss and uncertainty – as if I’ve been tracking the national Zeitgeist – complete with the loss of my father, two beloved dogs, a job or two and specifically, passion and creativity. The publishing world has changed immeasurably and my heart has made nearly a full revolution, from believing anything was possible to believing it was all over and why bother, to a shaky hopefulness.

As with any loss, we work our way through the stages of dealing and come to a place of acceptance. Change rattles us – our sense of self, of connection, of commitment – and yet spring arrives unbidden and we watch in amazement as hopeful plants push up arduously and ardently toward the light, birds sing and build their nests, make babies and we reawaken.

I celebrated my 60th birthday this spring and though I stand in awe and wonder at the passage of time, I measure its passing by reflecting on the fact that at my age my parents retired and moved to a state hundreds of miles away from where they were born and raised. They built a log cabin and lived (by their lights) an adventurous life for many years. My mother moved away from the family home 6 months ahead of my father, rented a house and obtained a gun for protection. She invited him to join her with the caveat that if he declined, she was moving anyway. This from my mild mannered, yet determined, church-lady mother. She was going to have her adventure. My father soon followed.

And so I take heart in the singular bravery and fortitude of a woman I laughed at and wished was more than she was. After her Bible, her favorite book was entitled “How to Make Something from Nothing”. Indeed, she was ahead of her time, one of the original DIY stay-at-home moms, and made the most of what she had to work with.

Upon reflection – for my parents and the universe – I give thanks for these hands and this time and what I choose to make of it. And so… back to the drawing board.

The past few years have been filled with loss and uncertainty – as if I’ve been tracking the national Zeitgeist – complete with the loss of my father, two beloved dogs, a job or two and specifically, passion and creativity. The publishing world has changed immeasurably and my heart has made nearly a full revolution, from believing anything was possible to believing it was all over and why bother, to a shaky hopefulness.

As with any loss, we work our way through the stages of dealing and come to a place of acceptance. Change rattles us – our sense of self, of connection, of commitment – and yet spring arrives unbidden and we watch in amazement as hopeful plants push up arduously and ardently toward the light, birds sing and build their nests, make babies and we reawaken.

I celebrated my 60th birthday this spring and though I stand in awe and wonder at the passage of time, I measure its passing by reflecting on the fact that at my age my parents retired and moved to a state hundreds of miles away from where they were born and raised. They built a log cabin and lived (by their lights) an adventurous life for many years. My mother moved away from the family home 6 months ahead of my father, rented a house and obtained a gun for protection. She invited him to join her with the caveat that if he declined, she was moving anyway. This from my mild mannered, yet determined, church-lady mother. She was going to have her adventure. My father soon followed.

And so I take heart in the singular bravery and fortitude of a woman I laughed at and wished was more than she was. After her Bible, her favorite book was entitled “How to Make Something from Nothing”. Indeed, she was ahead of her time, one of the original DIY stay-at-home moms, and made the most of what she had to work with.

Upon reflection – for my parents and the universe – I give thanks for these hands and this time and what I choose to make of it. And so… back to the drawing board.

My girlfriend and I often go to estate sales and garage sales around Portland. We call it “treasure hunting”. In the past year I’ve come across two little children’s books written and illustrated by Rosalind Welch. They are small in scale, simple in concept and execution, and delightfully realized. I have not as yet done much research on Ms. Welch. If you, dear reader, know any details, please do impart! The following images are from Do You Ever Feel Lonely? published by Panda Prints, Inc, New York, copyright 1967 by Rosalind Welcher.

My girlfriend and I often go to estate sales and garage sales around Portland. We call it “treasure hunting”. In the past year I’ve come across two little children’s books written and illustrated by Rosalind Welch. They are small in scale, simple in concept and execution, and delightfully realized. I have not as yet done much research on Ms. Welch. If you, dear reader, know any details, please do impart! The following images are from Do You Ever Feel Lonely? published by Panda Prints, Inc, New York, copyright 1967 by Rosalind Welcher.

                              Linoleum blockprint Winter Gift © 2011 by Susan Boase

                              Linoleum blockprint Winter Gift © 2011 by Susan Boase

What better excuse to take a break from blogging (and the rest of my pressing responsibilities) than remodeling the house? It’s a project my husband and I have dreamed of doing for nearly 20 years. Finally we have the funds available (well, enough to start) and have convinced ourselves we have the time. So, while gutting the interior of lath and plaster out to the stud walls what do we find, but some very sweet newspaper pages from The Oregon Sunday Journal, dated November 2, 1924, used as windblocking. I love the “modern” typeface used in the title and there’s a piece announcing the publication of Mark Twain’s autobiography by Harper and Brothers. Interesting in that Twain’s unexpurgated version was finally published in 2010. In a piece from The New York Times last November, bookstore owner Rebecca Fitting is quoted as saying: “He’s surprisingly relevant right now… when you look at how much he wrote and the breadth of subjects he wrote about, you know that if he were alive today, he would totally be a blogger.” Poor Twain… I’m sure he would’ve loved to profit from this best-selling version. It was Twain who remarked “The lack of money is the root of all evil,” and was forced to leave his own home due to lack of finances.

What better excuse to take a break from blogging (and the rest of my pressing responsibilities) than remodeling the house? It’s a project my husband and I have dreamed of doing for nearly 20 years. Finally we have the funds available (well, enough to start) and have convinced ourselves we have the time. So, while gutting the interior of lath and plaster out to the stud walls what do we find, but some very sweet newspaper pages from The Oregon Sunday Journal, dated November 2, 1924, used as windblocking. I love the “modern” typeface used in the title and there’s a piece announcing the publication of Mark Twain’s autobiography by Harper and Brothers. Interesting in that Twain’s unexpurgated version was finally published in 2010. In a piece from The New York Times last November, bookstore owner Rebecca Fitting is quoted as saying: “He’s surprisingly relevant right now… when you look at how much he wrote and the breadth of subjects he wrote about, you know that if he were alive today, he would totally be a blogger.” Poor Twain… I’m sure he would’ve loved to profit from this best-selling version. It was Twain who remarked “The lack of money is the root of all evil,” and was forced to leave his own home due to lack of finances.

My friend and fellow children’s book author and illustrator (now that is a mouthful!), Kate Berube, posted a thoughtful link from the NYTimes Sunday Review: Shyness: Evolutionary Tactic? and it set my “sitter” mind to wandering. As the author, Susan Cain, writes: 

“THE psychologist Gregory Feist found that many of the most creative people in a range of fields are introverts who are comfortable working in solitary conditions in which they can focus attention inward. Steve Wozniak, the engineer who founded Apple with Steve Jobs, is a prime example: Mr. Wozniak describes his creative process as an exercise in solitude. “Most inventors and engineers I’ve met are like me,” he writes in “iWoz,” his autobiography. “They’re shy and they live in their heads. They’re almost like artists. In fact, the very best of them are artists. And artists work best alone … Not on a committee. Not on a team.””

And so the artistic temperament - lost in thought, lost in observation, protected by a shell of dreaminess and inward-focused free association - is not necessarily suited to the sales pitch.

It seems to me to be so paradoxical that we are urged, as artists, to spend so much of our energy and focus on self promotion. I hope that we can refocus on the shy, watchful, “sitter” approach to creativity and resist the pressure to put ourselves out there as shills for our artistic product. Unless it gives us a thrill. The thrill of the shill? Marketing, schmarketing…

My friend and fellow children’s book author and illustrator (now that is a mouthful!), Kate Berube, posted a thoughtful link from the NYTimes Sunday Review: Shyness: Evolutionary Tactic? and it set my “sitter” mind to wandering. As the author, Susan Cain, writes: 

“THE psychologist Gregory Feist found that many of the most creative people in a range of fields are introverts who are comfortable working in solitary conditions in which they can focus attention inward. Steve Wozniak, the engineer who founded Apple with Steve Jobs, is a prime example: Mr. Wozniak describes his creative process as an exercise in solitude. “Most inventors and engineers I’ve met are like me,” he writes in “iWoz,” his autobiography. “They’re shy and they live in their heads. They’re almost like artists. In fact, the very best of them are artists. And artists work best alone … Not on a committee. Not on a team.””

And so the artistic temperament - lost in thought, lost in observation, protected by a shell of dreaminess and inward-focused free association - is not necessarily suited to the sales pitch.

It seems to me to be so paradoxical that we are urged, as artists, to spend so much of our energy and focus on self promotion. I hope that we can refocus on the shy, watchful, “sitter” approach to creativity and resist the pressure to put ourselves out there as shills for our artistic product. Unless it gives us a thrill. The thrill of the shill? Marketing, schmarketing…