Make like a baby and head out!

Crude joke that always made me laugh as a kid. But it's so appropriate for this post. I FEEL like a baby with lots of the processes, whether it's playing with Photoshop or learning the various social media (something a creative artist needs to do in order to get their work out). There was a time to say anything about my art or writing was to be considered "arrogant, and full of myself" but how do people know to support you, unless you share that with them, so I'm now in the uncomfortable mode of figuring out how to share my work without being too full of myself, because it's always been a bit of an "either or" for me. Anyhow, now that I'm beginning to blog consistently, I'd been brainstorming how to increase content. (one idea is asking some of my writing and illustrating friends about their process or studio-- something I'm nosy about, as well as likes, what do you think? Are you nosy about that stuff to? If so I want to think up some of the less asked questions and those that wouldn't take a long time or thought to respond to as most are very busy!). One idea was to take some of the things my friends love and have photos of, as well as my interests and combine them for my coloring pages. This week will be my daughter's love of sloths and my friend Nadine Hays photos from where she lives (she's the author of Happier Than a Billionaire). Next week is either turtles or horses, that kind of thing.

Anyhow, I'd promised to change the header out every few months, and wanted to keep that promise. It forces me to create new content, and means I'm practicing at becoming quicker at producing finished art. The wonderful class that I'm taking from the School of Visual Storytelling is winding down, and this is one of the assignments (way to go! three tiered multitasking!), though I added the book, because it fits the storyline of a distracted protag and my blog.

So a little bit of the process:

Now if I wasn't under a time constraint, what I should have done is a FEW versions of this. I could have made the silhouettes of the dog and perhaps the girl's face a little stronger, and that may have had a better impact. But I set the time limit on the header pieces at 5-7 hours. The first few may end up being rough, but I hope and suspect they will get better as I do more.  When I used to work with colored pencils I worked in a grisaille fashion. That's laying the values in then laying the color on top. I work that way in Photoshop as well:

I'm trying more and more to lay the color in properly. Part of the problem is my programs aren't properly loaded, and the old computer I'm working on won't let me uninstall and reinstall anything, and it's not mine. This may or may not become a moot point next week, if MY old computer is fixed. But for now, one really shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Next came the color. I'd been thinking of the spread for Annie I'm working on and will blog when it's finished, probably part one this week, the second part next week as I'll be redoing it to see if what I see in my head, I've figured how to render it) and thought I'd see if I could make it work in this piece. I could not. Hence next weeks's post and redo...

I could see room for improvements, and will make those changes and change out the bottom part of my banner to reflect the new character of the piece, as well as the fact that I write AND illustrate, though I'm tending to concentrate on the art process for now in my blogging. Expect to put it up sometimes today, either before or after my last heartbreaking class with Will and Jake. It was such a wonderful thing. I learned a great deal from the process, some of which most definitely will follow through in my work...

Check out my new header! And notice my new logo! A suggestion from Jake Parker, which I think is a great one, as I do a few different things. I had fun!

On genius, daemons and amusing muses (reprint from my Facebook oped)

When I was a kid and people talked about my "gifts"  as if I were a monkey savant. Rarely was there praise for what I did, because it was a gift after all, and not something I'd actually worked for and no one wanted it "going to my head". Agnes could sing, could draw, do all manner of things in a surprising manner (so much so that if I was too "good" at it they took it away because it was "unnatural"). The adults deliberately praised other's abilities and rarely heard about my own, again that "swelled head." 

There were tons of missed opportunities, and nurturing any talents I had was lackdaisickle at best. I worked hard, and if I wanted my "gifts" to grow, I was the one that invested in the money, time and effort. On this side of the fence, precious little was given to me, because the other side of the fence had stacked the deck, so it seemed.

To say I was a pissed off kid and young adult would be an understatement.

There were many other dark and dire sitiuations in my life that made my art a necessary tool to survival. But you wouldn't know that by my art. My truths and realities and thoughts and feelings were far too large or far too underground for me to instill into anything my hands created. 

I detested the dank and dirty, the moldy and decaying of life, I wanted only to reflect the glowing and the affirming. I wanted--- want to only uplift, move on, move forward, do well, seek approval, BE LOVED.

As I grew up upon moving out, I wrestled with the idea of my art(s) being other than myself or being so totally me, that was how I defined myself. (Motherhood and my art, that's me, I dunno if I'll ever be able to see myself differently). I was able to acknowledge that often times it DOES feel like something other than me. 

A case in point for a project I hope to bring to fruition this year. Duke Day for Annie.

A life-time in the making. A friendship, lots of conversations, admiration, I sat with Ann when she sang at Deli One often times, and later, my young daughters and I would visit her at the Barron's Center. Talking about another project (Sara LeClere, my midgrade novel, yep still in progress) I was chatting on a message board with friends about the sources for the characters and was talking about Ann and her family and how they'd informed my character Teedie and her family. A few pointed out that there most definitely a book in Ann's story. The more I thought about it, the more I realized they were right.

I interviewed her, took notes, drew some drawings. Motherhood, the loss of my mother and bunches of other things interfered. 

Besides, what qualified me to tell her story? I mean yeah, I loved and intimately knew Old Orchard Beach. I knew, loved and understood Annie.  I wasn't black though (yet we shared white and Native American roots), I hadn't lived during the Depression (but  I could SEE it, FEEL it, from lots of conversations with my grandmother and others of her generation). And I wasn't a REAL writer. 

Was I?

I went to work as a seasonal in hopes of being hired permanently (nope) at L.L. Beans. I ran into someone who knew Ann too, had worked at Deli One. Decided to bring in the working dummy to show him (he'd been an English Major way back when). I brought it in and showed him and he said "Yes it is sad, she died."I'd lost touch with her and had no idea. She'd died two days prior and her obituary was in the paper that day. I could feel myself get progressively sick from that moment on. By the time I got home I was massively ill. Within a day I was delirious with fever. I dunno if it was guilt or what. I remember though just being totally preoccupied with the fact that Ann had died and I hadn't known about it. And the lack of momentum of this project. Realize also I very rarely get a fever, but if I do, I should seek medical care (nope, didn't). Sometime, somewhere in the middle of the delirium a crystal thought, feeling, SOMETHING came to me. It was my story to tell, and Hillel echoed in my ears "If not me, then WHO?"  

Then the first line came to me "Sun's up, Out of bed!"

The fever broke shortly after that and I've been working on it since. I dream or zone a lot of my work and ideas. So I DO work hard, but I also think this is a gift.

I've always been fearful people would find me a fraud. I don't know if that came from the fact that people treat me like a savant (I guess my outer demeanor and appearance is a weird reconcile to what they think of my work). Or whatever this thing that has been with me my whole life would decide to abandon me and I'm alone. I lost my singing voice (though I sing out of spite sometimes still). I see all kinds of things and usually differently, so it's been a strange wobbly line, this life of mine and I didn't know if I wanted to forget about it, or just embrace the difficult, the challenge, the fear or what I am-- different. Hence all this posts about embracing the fear. Yup, I decided.

Some have liked me BECAUSE of my gifts. My husband's first thoughts when I told him I sang and drew was "SURE, ya do!"  He said he was pleasantly surprised because I actually did what I said I did. Of course there's been no money in it, and in this economy, that's a hard sell for a hard working man. The addendum to this post has been the marriage hasn't survived, and the double dog dare is to not let anger run my life. I've not been as successful at that one as I'd like to be.

But a friend just shared a clip from TED (I'll share it here too), and it was a little more of the transformation I hope to achieve at this point in my life. I'd been RESENTFUL of my muse, genius, daemon. I'd not honored that part of my soul, that aperture if it's not a part of me, then what let's that in, AT ALL. I've been so fearful and driven to try to find a way out of our dire financial straits I've just chased my bushy tail around in ever tightening circles. I've allowed other people to belittle me to the point where, even now, I struggle with not feeling a failure and worthless, when that isn't even MINE. I've always known I'm not, but have surrounded myself with poison fruit so I've never strayed far from the tether upon my neck, the making of pretty things.

Except my life has been far too rich for that. There are times I've been in the mire. Stood in the manure. Mucked through the decay. You can't have beauty without ALL of the experience. I've been derisive of "pretty" because it has little meaning. But beauty is something we can all see, accept, acknowledge and it actually has meaning to us. 

Listening to Elisabeth Gilbert speak opened up something. Perhaps I am able to do the things I do not only because I'm remarkable, but because I see the remarkable in ALL that I see. And perhaps that is my purpose. Perhaps the genie that has fled, whether it's of me or out of me, will come and stand next to my heart if I start telling my truth and let the feelings shine. And perhaps if that works, that is my purpose. I've met so many who cloud their glow as I have done. It's sad when one loves thugs and browbeaters, because if they have the upperhand you WILL be beaten down if you stay. But if thugs and browbeaters learn to love themselves, then perhaps they can become the shining heros they were meant to be. For now, I've turned down the path of the road less taken, and my muse accompanies me, more and more often.

Have to go let my muse in. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86x-u-tz0MA&feature=share

Trepidation Sunday

I had been hoping to be knee deep in my book so it could be published by September. That deadline may still happen if I sit down and keep at it, but it may be slightly later. There is a fine line between acquiring skills, doing the research and taking the time to do your best work, and procrastinating.

One would think that weren't true, unless you realize somethings are just so big. There are about a ten projects in various stages, but after Nana's Gift, this is the oldest and most dear.

It's genesis was when I was a young grrl,  when I used to visit with Ann. She was inspirational in ways I have a hard time describing. I could call her "bubbly", but you might infer "frivolous" and perhaps it's a fine distinction, but she truly was effervescent. It was so hard to be depressed around her. When I would go to Deli One, I literally would have a dollar to my name to spend, but loved listening to the music (and had a bit of a crush on the jazz bass player), and it was the only social time I had, as I was in art school, dealing with family problems and working full-time, that covered my expenses. I would nurse one cup of tea, and sitting with Ann gave me cover or I would have been thrown out, but the restaurant did institute a one refill of hot water because of me.

Years later visiting The Barron Center, because Ann's multiple sclerosis had developed to the point she was bed ridden, she hadn't changed from the woman who shared her music and stories. There were times I'd go in, and she would be blind. The nature of the disease, she didn't know if she'd ever get her sight back. She was still Ann, the effervescent, the drop of sunshine. She spoke of how a town she taught school in, wrote a petition to not sell her a house because of the color of her skin, and how one grateful student's parent sold her the home she came to live in. She talked of how her brother had to go out of state (not Eddie, he was the only one to not go to college, but that was because he didn't want to, but Emerson, who has a strip of highway named after him in Scarborough, Maine). When he was friends with Ed Muskie, he had a bit of coverage, but when the University found out he was tutoring Muskie, the made the rule "no coloreds" could play the piano. She dealt with a life time of these attitudes, gracefully, full of humor, not letting anyone define her, so what chance did a stupid disease have?

And how do you honor someone like that? I spent a good portion of my time feeling not worthy. I'm a wicked whiner, sometimes. What I saw and heard in my head, I didn't really have the skill to accommodate. But I couldn't let it go. She was MY friend. Old Orchard Beach is one of MY favorite places, I know this place, people, history it's what I daydream about, all those lovely stories (remember all the other projects, lol).

The divide was so far apart.

The first line popped into my head though from a dream and I began writing. After she'd passed, more of the book "popped" in my head. A conversation with a couple of experts and their comments that I knew more about it than they did, further bolstered me. I didn't want it all to be lost.

After that I created a dummy. This is the original drawing from the dummy of the spread I'm working on now:

There was a lot of rewriting, some editorial comment and near misses, I stopped drawing and put it away, not sure what I wanted to do. Then I learned Photoshop and decided I could self publish.

I chose this spread as the first, there were few changes to be made, it was designed how I wanted it to appear. Also, the one that follows it should help me get into the "continuity" swing of things.

There are quite a few challenges for me with this book. It's a work of fiction and fact, so the facts have to be correct and the fiction plausible. And Ann is no longer here to corroborate. Old Orchard Beach changed from year to year, so getting a picture of what it actually looked like at the time was a challenge as well, and there's only one photo reference of Ann with Eddie. It is important to me, the character actually reflect her, in body and in spirit. Some of the editorial comment wanted more to do with Duke, but you know she didn't reminisce about that as much, other than the singing  and him taking her on the rides. I won't manufacture what she didn't tell me. Another challenge, my life has fallen apart in the last few years, so piecing together what I have is even harder as some of it is scattered, and the means to get from here to there or even work on it has become a hurdle.

This is actually a history of people and my friend, I believe was an important part of that history, though she would probably denoue it. I will get this done (and hopefully all my other projects, daunting and wonderful in their own way), but realize I feel unworthy every step of the way. I fear I will spend my heart and soul on this, my desperation of situation my shine through instead what I want to: What it is to be a kid looking forward and embracing the possibilities and problems of her life. People will notice the book and then I will not only be the one thinking I'm unworthy of the project. Or worse, people won't notice at all.

But the words, "if not me, then who?" keeps ringing in my ears.

So, I waited for this class (that was a good choice, this will be a much better book for it.). I played with some of the angles per the lesson on perspective, trying to make it more dramatic (why do I want to say DRAW-MATIC, lol, I have such a punny brain!). It still didn't work.

I have the challenge of designing a book that can be printed so the spreads read together and well. But also the spreads can be divided in half and the book still reads well, in the e-format. I think I've mostly done this on the piece, especially in light of the spread/two pages to follow it. I realized I was putting off FINISHING IT. I decided I would write about it (accountability!) and then FINISH IT. I will share the next few incarnations and the finished piece in the next blog post. I shall embrace my freakin' fear, and I hope the love and honor I feel comes through the work. Wish me the best!

Coloring Page Redux

There were a few things I didn't care for in the silhouette of the character, so I changed it. Do you see what it is? It's a minor thing if you don't, so don't worry. I'll tell you at the end of the post if you don't want to scroll down or can't tell. The same thing happened last week. Though I didn't color that one, I did redraw it.

First the amended drawing:

This was a character study, so I didn't do anything with the background. But in coloring it, I thought it needed more. I'd also forgot the earring I wanted to put in . I learned a lot doing this, (it took about six hours to color, which is all I wanted to spend). It's getting easier to think of ambient light and form. Sometimes the blending is a bit better. I'm using an old computer, an old Photoshop and a friend's old Wacom (I love it). I don't know if it was something I did or if it's the computer, but some of the drivers aren't working properly and the computer won't let me uninstall so I can reinstall, so I'm making it work. (yes there are times I get really frustrated over that, but I also figure if I can work under adverse circumstance, if they get better, it'll be a breeze. Besides Rodin was poor, blind and taught himself to draw, often using the the charcoal from his mother's files. If he can, than so can I with the amenities I've got). Anyhow, it's not the best, it's not the worst. And it was fun and I LEARNED a lot...

There are somethings more successful than others, and I got a bit tired. I'm glad I get to do this for myself now. If I were doing it for someone else, this wouldn't be done by a long shot. still I like the sheen of the shoe, some of the reflective lights and shadows. The quality of the colors. It's not a bad overall effort.

I reworked the other drawing as well. Again can you tell the difference (not fair I know, it's way down below, but perhaps you've printed it off and can see the differences? I'll let you know about the changes underneath.

Give up? His arm and her foot were too small in the original. I cleaned up a few of the forms, and some of the stuff with "Bruiser". On the original Pirate drawing, the shirt came out obscuring the teddy bear silhouette. I thought it much more interesting to see the teddy's outline and I made him a small bit larger.

In the coming weeks I'll be trying to incorporate my love of animals and environment again. I have some friends on Facebook who love certain kinds of creatures, I figured I'll try to incorporate those drawings on my page. Yeah, it's a blatant thing to try to entice them here. But also it's great practice and I love doing them. The more you do the easier and more thoughtful it gets. I really believe it's important for us to learn to live together. The old and they young, the human and the rest of the world, as well as all the different kinds of people. Feel free to give suggestions if you'd like to see a subject drawn out (get it, get it?! It's an artist joke!). I may or may not be able to get to it right away, but I appreciate the feedback, your taking the time to read my blog. Next weeks coloring page is for my daughter who is into sloths, from a friend of mine who lives in Costa Rica. 

This week's coloring page

Every once in a while I think it's great to multi task. Another art of life is knowing when to push yourself and when to let what's given be enough. I'm so loving the class on visual story telling I'm taking. It has cemented some of the things I've done and am doing, and opened up others. A very exciting thing. I have a bout a dozen projects in various stages (and the AWFUL thing about when the creative juices flow, is new ideas and concepts waft their way to fore, and it becomes a sifting/organizing thing as well. Note to self: Clean up your internal files!). Anyhow, there were two additional assignments, and I wanted to do them, but how to justify the time because the goals of getting my books out there in the next few months is a looming thing?

MULTITASK! So the character assignment of the kindly grizzled, peg legged sailor has become a coloring page (I will post my colored version next week, I would love it if people shared!). The scene will end up being my new blog header (remember the promise to change the illustration out every few months? This way I can keep that promise to myself, and practice what I've learned in class. Incorporating your art is a part of your job as well. Prioritizing is important, and it shouldn't take precedent over family, but it has to be one of your major considerations. One of the things I've been able to embrace in the difficult last year, I can make my work, my art a priority again. I hope you enjoy it!

Reviews (a couple of my inspirations) and thar be a coloring page, matey!

I was lucky enough to land a few F & Gs  (Folds and Gathers, the printed book before final proof and boards are added), thanks to the wonderful Nina Sachs at Walker Memorial. For this week and next weeks' book reviews. I like mixing the old with the new, but it's good to see the new. Especially where previous favorites are either still working or finding successes with their original stories. Two of the people who inspired me to want to illustrate for kids are included in this week's review. Floyd Cooper and Patricia Polacco.

Fox Forgets
Suzanne Bloom
Boyds Mills Press, 2013

Goose tells Fox to tell Bear he'll be right back. If you like Mo Williams' humor and simplicity this is the book for you. The illustrations are luscious something I love, and bear sparkles on the page with his form and emotion. I could almost hear the three year old trying to remind Fox what he keeps forgetting.

Books by Suzanne Bloom: The Bus for Us; A Splendid Friend Indeed (A Goose and Bear story); Girls A to Z (Eve Bunting, author); Piggy Monday: A Tale About Manners (Albert Whitman concept book); Melissa Parkington's Beautiful, Beautiful Hair (Pat Brisson, author); Treasure (A Goose and Bear story).

Paper Son
Helen Foster James & Virginia Shin-Mui Loh
Illustrated by Wilson Ong 
Sleeping Bear Press, Tales of Young Americans Series, 2013

The story of the journey from China to America, from Wang Lee to Fu Lee, it is the story of many Chinese immigrants and Angel Island. Poignant story, interspersed with the real immigrants' fear and longings: "Imprisoned in this wooden building, I am always sad and bored." The illustrations are masterful. This is a book for an older reader, a challenged reader, or a lover of history.

Books by Helen Foster James: S is for S'Mores (Lita Judge, illustrator); Little California (Little State) (Helle Urban, illustrator); Grandma Loves You (Petra Brown, illustrator); Author Day Adventures: Bringing Literacy to Life with an Author's Visit; E is for Enchantment: A New Mexico Alphabet (Discover America State by State) (Neecy Twinem, illustrator); Little America (Little Country) (Jeannie Brett, Glenn Monroe, Helle Urban, illustrators)
Books by Virginia Shin-Mui Loh: Jade Dragon (Carolyn Marsden, co author);
Books by Wilson Ong: T is for Tutu (Sports Alphabet) (Sonia Rodriguez and Kurt Browning, authors); Mommy Promises (Julie Steigemeyer, author); The Three Gifts (Patricia Cook Orr, author); Portrait of a Woman and Jesus: He Looks Through Your Eyes and into Your Heart- A Personal Journey (Barbara Quillen Egbert, author)

Max and the Tag Along Moon
Floyd Cooper
Philomel Books, and Imprint of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2013

I confess my bias up front. Floyd Cooper can do no wrong. I think his art is amazing, he uses the "subtractive" method, and I will always love how his images not only feel real, they feel a part of the paper and their environment. A grandfather wishes his grandson Max farewell and tells him, "That ol' moon will always shine for you... on and on!". Sweet, swervy journey home, Max keeps track of the tag along moon. This is such a lovely book.

Books by Floyd Cooper: Ruth and the Green Book (Calvin Alexander Ramsey and Gwen Strauss, authors); Brick by Brick (Charles R. Smith Jr., author); These Hands (Margaret H. Mason, author, Golden Kite Honor); The Blacker the Berry (Joyce Carol Oates, author,  ALA midgrade Notable); Back of the Bus (Aaron Reynolds, author); Meet Danitra Brown (Nikki Grimes, author); Becoming Billie Holiday (Carole Boston Weatherford, author); Ben and the Emancipation Proclamation (Pat Sherman, author); Jump!: From the life of Michael Jordan.

W is for Wrigley: The Friendly Confines Alphabet
Brad Herzog
Sleeping Bear Press, 2013Illustrated by John Hanley

A wonderful history book, Herzog goes through the alphabet and tells Wrigley's story. Each letter has a poem smattered with the letter, as well as the history of the team, the field, and ultimately a culture. Again with the luscious photos, Hanley renders the illustrations like jewels, and has a wonderful eye for likeness.

Books by Brad Herzog: Francis and Eddie: The True Story of America's Underdogs (illustrated by Zachary Pullen); H is for Home Run: A Baseball Alphabet (Sports Alphabet) (illustrated by Melanie Rose); Little Baseball (Little Sports) (illustrated by Dog Bowles); Little Basketball (Little Sports) (illustrated by Dog Bowles); T is for Touchdown: A Football Alphabet (Sports Alphabet) (illustrated by Mark Braught); S is for Save the Planet: A How-To-Be Green Alphabet (Science Alphabet) (illustrated by Linda Holt Ayriss)

The Keeping Quilt (Anniversary 25th Edition)
Patricia Polacco
Simon and Schuster, Books for Young Readers, 2013

Another one who inspired me to try my hand at illustration, I love the graphic nature and exuberance of Polacco's illustrations. And no one writes of family better. The story of a family and how the simple things and traditions can tie us to each other, keeping memories alive. I love the story of the quilt is updated, and includes the power of a book. When a book, idea, tradition or object is embraced, it becomes a treasure. Such is this.

Books by Patricia Polacco: Thank you, Mr. Falker; Thunder Cake; Pink and Say; The Junkyard Wonders;  The Bee Tree; The Art of Miss Chew; When Lightning Comes in Jars (author, Ernest Polacco); The Butterfly; Mr. Lincoln's Way; Chicken Sunday; Babushka's Doll

Filling your soul, feeding your perspective, or is it feeding your soul and filling your perspective?

I rambled and ranted quite a bit in past blogs, and I really don't want to do that now. But in order to create, you have to make the introspection a part of the process. And that's the point isn't it. It's rather lonely to create, especially if you don't share often with others. I think I'm pretty much over that not sharing thing.

This post is about keeping one's creative cup topped off. I figured it may be a bit verbose, so I'm posting some of my images done in the past to help break it up and keep things hopefully interesting...

I often told my children and anyone else who will listen that perspective matters. If you can't get into someone shoes and head, inhabit their lives you can't make your characters believable. If you don't actually LOOK at the way the world works, you can't even render it successfully, let alone get someone to emote over your illustration/art. Being lost in your own head, is a must for the writer/illustrator, but you must navigate the world if you want to have anything to say and be effective in saying it.

Though it's true going deep and wide is a part of your process, HOW to do that matters. I realized part of my difficulty was my aversion to that. If I went TOO deep I might become lost in that rant, that despite, or bliss or whatever the siren call of that time, project, mood was. Personally I think every once in a while we all need a good wallow. But the secret is only once in awhile. I realized I get excited (and even competitive) sometimes when I see what other people are doing. A part of your process, IMO, is to avail yourself to others as well.

Last week I went to Walker Library's event of Cookies and Crime (both wonderful, btw). I'd met one of the speakers, Lea Wait a few times, and in part, I'm getting myself back into being involved when I'd become hermitous (is that a word? If not it should be...) and there were two other speakers, Gerry Boyle and Kieran Shields (sorry Kieran, I didn't find a website for you, if you'd rather a different link).

A short digression: A while back I'd made some line drawings, and I would sell them for rubber stamps. It kept me in "pin money" as my gram would say. I didn't think I was good enough to call myself artist for the longest time, and it took me slightly longer to call myself a writer/author. So I was surprised, that I sold quite a few for enough money to keep me in paper and Sharpies, and you can still find some of my drawings at a wonderful rubber stamp company, After Midnight Art Stamps.

Except one woman who wanted one of my drawings but didn't want to pay for it. Normally that would tick me off but would let this roll off my back. But because I never sold them for more than $35 dollars (and granted this was one of the most expensive ones) it had sentimental value and had been a lot of work. She told the rubber stamp making community I'd plagiarized my own work. She threatened legal action, I threatened it back and would have followed through, because I knew the (then copyright) law (which is one of the reasons I would have followed through). She backed down, but the damage was done, quite a few would no longer consider my drawings.

It's not a very good copy, because I stopped selling them right after the incident, as it left me with such a bad feeling, and have misplaced the original (though I may rework it again soon).

I do that, when it sometimes becomes too much. I stop. That's why getting older and a tadpole wiser is great, because you can revisit old habits, especially if they work. I'd stopped interacting with most people. I'm not horrifically ugly, but I have a crone's smile, and especially in the last few years, living with others, because of the economy and not wanting my family to be more upset, I've lived like a hobo again, as I figured it's much easier for me to, than for my kids. It has hurt my heart in ways I only hope to recover, but I have empathy that perhaps I wish I didn't have (as I told someone today, empathy means you've gone through something similar enough to UNDERSTAND). So I'm bruised and hurting inside and out, not that attractive, which I didn't really know it mattered to me, until I found out again, not so much.

Embrace your fears. How to do that when it's painful? When I was fearful of Photoshop and the commitment, I started doing baby faeries with flowers. Painting what I loved and enjoyed gave me butt-in-chair, and I have a few of them so far, and this one is Dandy Leon:

Emboldened with the events of the week before (making friends with the new librarian and seeing Pat Gallant-Charette's inspirational story), I decided to go to the Cookies and Crime and see Lea.

Along the way, I stopped into the Saccarrappa Art Collective and there was an old friend, Jeremy Greene, and it did my heart good). He'd owned an art store I loved, and it no longer exists, because of the economic downturn. 

But it was wonderful to see he was making art (and beautiful too, if you're in the area, check it out, there's some wonderful art happening there). Knowing there's life after difficulty, seeing and hugging an old friend, what's not to love. 

The repast at the library was wonderful (I think Nina Henning-Sachs is responsible for the spread, but whomever, they are two for two)and I had a plateful. I no longer ate in public, so I'm glad I had decided to embrace the "YES" in my life, because the chocolate treats were, well chocolate.

I'd forgotten how witty, Lea was. (she writes historical mystery as does Kieran; Gerry's more the hardboiled crime-blotter type). They all were charming in their own way. It was a crowded room, and most people were avid fans of one or the other writers. I was sad to see they were mostly older people, not because I'm against us oldies but goodies, but I think it's healthier when the generations mix it up and learn from one another, but the library does a great job of giving something for the across the board reader.

They answered the same question, often in three different ways, though I found myself nodding in recognition to most of the responses. They talked of their journey to a writing life, from Gerry as a gumshoe mid-Maine crime reporter to Lea as a corporate writer, antique dealer and mother to Kieran a history buff and lawyer.

It was wonderful to reinforce how the same and yet how different we are.

It felt good to connect with people (hard to write about us and our conditions when I treat us as THEM). I'd forgotten the bolstered feeling of having some of my own process vindicated (I DO THAT!). Even if the exercise hadn't been good for me-- and it's imperative if you have a sedentary job to MOVE, my mood lightened, I felt more optimistic of my work, and the world felt a little broader. So coming back, I worked a little bit more (that day a few of the most perfect words fell into my brain and onto my manuscript, and would that have happened if I hadn't walked to the library, paced the ideas, jogged my brain or sped through the stories?). If something is a passion you have to say YES to it.

Because my world felt a little broader, I think my work will be a bit deeper. One can only hope.