While the eldest is at school, my 3-year old daughter chooses the subject, I do a sketch, and my daughter paints it.
Well, enough of that easy cheesy life sketching stuff. I got to get serious about creating work for my illustration portfolio! So this is my idea: Daughter will give me a subject as my source of inspiration and I’ll create a little story idea around it practicing my Bear and Pearl cats in different moods. I’ll call it my mood file.
Yesterday my daughter handed me a small toy car (a tow truck with the tow part missing). Here’s my little story concept, titled “I want that!”
This is my first experience of personifying a stuffed animal. It was quite a bit of fun, especially dealing with the challenge of expression while keeping the button eyes. The stripes in Bear should add a great deal, so I’d like to give it some color soon. If my daughter is lucky, she’ll get to color one in too!
This one’s an oldie, and had I found it in the book nook this would be my next posting for vintage book of the month. Angus and the Ducks by Marjorie Flack is an honest-to-goodness library book and it originally debuted in 1930.
Angus is a young Scottish terrier who is curious about everything including “…Things-Which-Come-Apart and those Things-Which-Don’t-Come-Apart; such as SLIPPERS and gentlemen’s SUSPENDERS and things like that.” In this one line you get all the doggie’s inquisitiveness and the wonderful use of CAPS to underscore the important things in a puppy’s eyes.
In the story that follows, little Angus in turn investigates, irritates, and then runs from a pair of scheming ducks. It’s quite funny. I love it when an author/ illustrator can portray the small quirks of an animal so well they come alive in all their antics — you can laugh just by reading Flacks description of Angus’ bark: “WOO-OO-OOF!!!” .
Flack paints with only a few colors over her black linework, but it’s a bold, art deco inspired palette (alternating with black and white spreads – this is an oldie, remember). Just look at that gorgeous cover. I so wish I had the license to show you the interiors…
This book came out just 2 years after Wanda Gág’s Millions of Cats, a book which is regarded as the first true picture book by an American. I respect Gag’s work, but you have to admit there is a dated quality to it. The text, the layout, and the full-spread drawings in Angus and the Ducks emit an amazingly modern feel.
Wow, it’s been awhile since I’ve drawn the bare human figure. That’s of course not counting my husband who has dutifully posed when the mood has hit me. The San Diego Society of Illustrators sponsors life drawing sessions every other Sunday at Palomar College (another place that I haven’t been to in quite a while).
The model was fantastic, a real professional. The poses were wonderful.
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I fell in love with this book before I read any of the words. That’s the power of the artwork. Abuela’s Weave (1993), by Omar S. Castañeda and illustrated by Enrique O. Sanchez shows a slice of village life in Guatemala. It’s a simple tale – the girl and her grandmother together weave cloth in the traditional way and prepare to sell their goods at market.
The grandmother’s facial birthmark may frighten away customers so she disguises herself with a shawl around her body and face and keeps her distance from her granddaughter on the way to the bus, traveling, on the walk to the market and while the girl spreads out the colorful tapestries, skirts, traditional blouses, and tablecloths.
The girl fears she and her grandmother can’t compete against all the goods made by machine the other people are selling. How can she compete against zippered bags and colorful plastic handles? They of course have nothing to fear, for their cloth is not only beautiful but laden with tradition, folklore, and speak of the loving hands that worked from early morning until late at night in their creation.
I struggle to describe the loveliness of the illustrations. Sanchez’ artwork is acrylic on canvas, but has the soft feel of pastel. The girl’s face is simply beautiful — the large, almond-shaped eyes that tilt toward the wide nose and full lips. She and her grandmother echo the Mayan stone carvings not only in their work but in their faces.
Both the girl’s loom and her grandmother’s are tied to the same tree and they work side by side. The Mayan motifs appear in the canopy of this tree while they work at night to complete their weaves. That is a wonderful metaphor added by Sanchez showing their strong bond not only to each other, but to the ancient traditions that surround them.
One came from gloves, one came from socks. They’re best buds.
Don’t they just beg to have stories written about them?
This is my first foray into making glove animals. They’re much easier to make (all stitching required is by hand). They also turn out way cuter.
You may notice that Bear has had some improvements since his last unveiling; cranial and arm reduction, tummy tuck, nose and whisker replacement, and mouth removal. I like him much better now.
If you’re interested in how I made them, you can find out more here.
While the eldest is at school, my 3-year old daughter chooses the subject, I do a sketch, and my daughter paints it.
This week, it’s a little red birdie with 2 fish friends. I know, the fishies look like a couple of freaky disembodied heads. It was Daughter’s choice for the drawing angle.
Trying to reason with a child that is in the middle of a mental storm? — talk about your losing battles.
“No!” She won’t be persuaded to exit the car.
“No!” She won’t agree to come to the grocery store you’re parked in front of, walk to the nearby library or even stroll the fountains.
My daughter wanted to go back home first. “Home first, then library.” It didn’t matter to her that we had just arrived (from home) and that little sister would hear nothing of being strapped back into her car seat after I had just released her. I wasn’t going back, and she wasn’t coming. (more…)
I pick 2 books because I enjoyed both of these tremendously and they could not be more different in type and tone. One of these books touches upon a “sensitive matter” and for those of you who would rather not deal with that (I have a particular someone in mind), I’ll let you know when you can stop reading.
First up, the light-hearted one. The Quarreling Book (1963)by Charlotte Zolotow (best known for William’s Doll) and illustrated by a favorite of mine, Arnold Lobel. It starts with a rainy, grey morning in which disgruntled Mr. James forgets to kiss Mrs. James on his way out the door. Mrs. James is miffed by that and the grey, rainy day and says something not so kind to her son, who says something nasty to sister, who says something mean to her best friend. So it goes till her best friend’s little brother Eddie shoves the dog off his bed.
The dog, however, doesn’t mind the gloomy day’s rain and “…thought Eddie was playing so she put her front paws down and her hindquarters up and her tail began wagging.” I love that description of a playful doggie. And so goes the spread of happiness, but in reverse order. It’s a simple concept, but it’s executed beautifully. I was delightfully caught off guard by the dog’s response, so I hope I’m not giving away too much of the book!
The other nice thing about The Quarreling Book is its size. It’s a bittie book of about 6″ wide. Little books (good ones anyway) almost always illicit a warm and cozy “let’s read this close together feel”. And even with not one color illustration (Lobel’s drawing are all ink pen), this one certainly does just that.
Okay, sensitive souls that want to stick your heads in the sand, no need to click the more link. (more…)
Good friends buy you books at the library Book Nook (even if they think you might already have them) and then drop them at your door. Today we got The Mitten (had it), a selection of stories illustrated by James Marshall (got just about every Marshall) and one I had seen but never read. The Mitten was the paperback big version — we had the little board book — so I thought at least it would be pleasant to see Jan Brett’s detailed illustrations a little bigger.
Kids wanted to read it, so we did. Then the surprise. (more…)
- A poem in praise of good picture book poetry by Ella
I’m in a rhyming mood after reading both The Red Lemon AND The Donut Chef! It took some hunting but I finally located a couple Staake books to read. And yes, the mystery was solved as to why I had never before read a Staake book — they don’t stock them at my preferred library! Truly a shame. These two are really gems.
Here’s a favorite Staake rhyme from The Donut Chef:
They tried new shapes beyond just rings
Their donuts were such crazy things!
Some were square and some were starry,
Some looked just like calamari!
Some were airy, some were cone-y!
Some resembled macaroni!
And this one spoken by cute little Debbie Sue:
“‘Scuse me, Mister,” said the tyke,
“But where’s the donut that I like?
It isn’t here, it isn’t there –
You think it’s under that éclair?
Staake mentioned in his lecture that he was known for his decorative endpapers. The one in The Donut Chef features a delicious spread of the chef holding up chef holding up chef (almost Escher-esque) with his belly embodying a different donut flavor. I thought I’d be put off by the busyness of all his drawings — however I felt they were just right for the story. I enjoyed the book’s message about the simple things being best and the book truly was fun to read aloud. Well done, Mr. Staake!
I thought I’d pick another library book too as my selection of the week, for heavens you should think I’m already biased toward Staake for seeing the man in person. I’m still trying to decide on my favorite…
My first meeting with a real live successful picture book author! Bob Staake was invited to speak at my local SCBWI meeting on Saturday. Bob Staake, the fastest drawer in the west. Bob Staake, a man of many hats – illustrator for magazine covers (The New Yorker, Time, Mad Magazine), greeting cards, posters, a designer of pop-up books and…the list goes on and on…teapots, for God’s sake! (more…)
I used to do a lot more cooking than I have been. Well, I always do less in the warm months anyway. The oven is our home’s heater in the winter and muffins and lasagna and the like are more welcome then. But now that I’m spending every free minute illustrating/ writing / blogging/ book researching there’s even less time at the stove. That was hit home the other night when I was preparing food in the kitchen and my three-year old called me to her.
“Mommy doesn’t cook,” she said incredulous and laughed, “Mommy just buys things.”
Yep, not the Mommy I used to be…
And what have I been spending my entire weekend and today on? A sock animal! I finished it today while my youngest (who I knew was being more quiet than she should be) and the other 2 were occupied with PBS Kids on the computer in the other room. Yes, my little one was not watching the computer but tattooing herself by drawing all over her arms and hands with a ballpoint pen she found on the desk.
Trust me, the time spent is worth it, and it is book related. I thought why am I spending so much time drawing a licensed Beanie Baby when I could be drawing one of my own creations? So move over Beanie Baby; meet the new and improved cat named Bear. He may change a bit, I keep fiddling with his form and eyes, mouth, etc. — the smallest change has such an impact on his look!
While the eldest is at school, my 3-year old daughter chooses the subject, I do a sketch, and my daughter paints it.
This week it’s a hard object, a toy train.
It never fails to surprise me how a relatively simple object can be full of unexpected complexity. When my daughter handed me this train my response was a slightly disappointed “really?” I thought it wouldn’t provide enough of a challenge. I was wrong!
Last night I loudly exclaimed “I love this, I love this!” while reading this book to myself. My husband, sitting close by, didn’t respond. He was trying to read another book to the kids at the time and perhaps didn’t appreciate my enthusiasm.
The author’s name was familiar to me when I picked the book out (I couldn’t remember why) and after I read the story I started to read the blurb about the author/illustrator on the book’s jacket. Suddenly it hit me. “It’s her,” I interrupted my husband again, “it’s by the woman who did Sunshine and Moonlight!” I could hardly contain myself. “It’s her, I repeated. This one has words!”
Jan Ormerod is a seriously underrepresented author at our library! I always wondered what works she completed, and now I know she can project that familial love and warmth even with a book with text. This one is called Lizzie Nonsense (2004), about a little girl living in the pioneer Australian bush, whose Papa must leave for weeks to take a trip to town. Lizzie and Mama are left with each other, Baby, and Lizzie’s dear imagination.
You can guess I’m already a big fan of Ormerod’s illustration. How many artists can portray a father in his tighty whities and still make the scene look sweet and charming (Sunshine, 1981)? There’s a lot of love that shines through her drawings, without being too saccharine. Ormerod has the knack for finding the beauty in the simple interplay between parent and child and their daily tasks.
How many times have you come across an adult with a mental handicap as a protagonist in a children’s story? That may be unusual enough. But How Smudge Came (1997) by Nan Gregory features a woman who lives in a group home and works cleaning the floors of a Hospice House where people are dying. That is the setting for a sweet tale about Cindy with down syndrome who finds a stray puppy and tries to keep him.
This is also the first book I’ve come across that employs all caps for every first line of a paragraph and italics for Cindy’s thoughts. You get lovely text like this:
Knock! Knock! ON HER DOOR. “CINDY?”
Into the closet goes Puppy.
The door opens. They never wait for her to answer.
“Cindy, John is drying the dishes. You can put them away.”
Cindy concentrates on the plates.
Don’t break a plate, Cindy. Think about the plates, not the puppy.
I love that Ron Lightburn’s illustrations are rendered in colored pencil — my current medium of choice. His choice of pencils on rough paper and the resulting fuzziness is well suited for the story. I also appreciate that you never see the face of the people who command Cindy or tell her things she doesn’t want to hear. You get the sense that Cindy never sees them either.
I like books that make me cry, and this is a touching tale.
Well, other than realizing that I need a new scanner, I’m happy with it. The background is very smooth in my original. Squint your eyes, that’s how I see it.
Here’s the text that goes along with this picture:
“Baby is pouting. She needs cheering up,” said Pearl, always eager to play.
“Bear, help me push this from the corner.”
“Yes, this car should help brighten her day.”
Pearl and Bear loved to roll like The Big Cats – over tile, carpet or wood floor –
with the wind in their faces and the trut-trut sound of the wheels like a roar.
But their thrill required an assist; both climbed in, excited head to toe.
“Baby, please take us for a ride,” insisted Pearl. “Hold tight, Bear, here we go!”
While the eldest is at school, my 3-year old daughter chooses the subject, I do a sketch, and my daughter paints (or colors) it.
This week features a baby toy so colorful even the older kids can’t stop playing with the thing. It’s a soft snail that has a bunch of feel-the-different textures, objects, mirror and such that all roll into a ball to make the mama snail’s back.
My sketch…
and my daughter’s coloring.
Big bro wanted one too after school. Here’s the pose he requested. You can tell I had a bit more time to work on his. Baby was napping and not milling around me, crying that she wanted to hold my drawing subject!
And here’s his coloring. Notice that he tested his pencils at the top and provided a record at the side of the colors he used, a la Mama Ella.
I really like the look of colored pencil on dark paper. It really makes the colors glow. Ha! It’s a glow worm!
I submitted a drawing for my local Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrator’s newsletter. It was a little thrill to see my artwork come back to me in printed form through the mail.
It’s Albert Lamorisse’s book The Red Balloon from 1958. I had a fond but vague memory of watching the 1956 film that this book is based on in elementary school. The book is illustrated with photos taken during the filming of the movie. Truly a home-spun enterprise, Lamorisse is credited as director, producer, photographer, and writer, and features his own son and daughter as characters. His son’s real name, Pascal, is used in the narration of the book. It’s a charming story about a little boy who finds and befriends a balloon (this one has a mind of its own) and his attempt to keep it safe within a society that either wants to destroy his friend or separate them.
At times I felt the book tried too hard to explain or give too much information. The film, however, excels in being simply sweet and wordless. There are wonderfully funny segments with the balloon teasing the little boy and messing with the school principal (my kids were laughing hysterically). There is sadness and there is uplifting redemption. Too bad Lamorisse couldn’t have turned his film into a wordless picture book.
The story’s setting is picturesque France. And what struck me about the book, and again, watching the film, was not how beautifully historic and charming the city looked, but how worn and rundown. In fact, I read that the entire area depicted in The Red Balloon, save a historic church, was torn down in the 1960′s during a slum removing effort. I can’t help but feel that Lamorisse chose that area on purpose, as it makes the contrast between that perfectly round and beautiful red balloon and the other difficult things in that little boy’s life seem all the more dramatic.
Please treat yourself by watching.
Welcome
Hello! I intend to use this site to share my current book ideas, my artwork, and all things related to kid's books. I'm actively pursuing my dream of writing and illustrating children's books.
