jamiepeeps

word.

2012-01-24T10:03:00.000-05:00

Fun things are happening in the Teen Zine Factory over at the Telling Room. I'm leading a workshop on making zines with a group of very fresh kids, thanks to my fanaticism about the punch that can be packed in such little paper vehicles.

Zines are any kind of self-published statement, maybe words, maybe pictures, ideas made real. I've used them as an ice-breaker assignment many times, and have quite a collection. Here's just a few of my favorites:

At the Telling Room, everybody spreads out and gets into their creation.

Some were sketching, like Elias, who drew a favorite character called the Blob. Camille drew fluid, flying horses. Janine drew cute comic girls.

Lily was clacking away on the vintage typewriter, making up "lies no one ever told you."

Stay tuned for the upcoming debut of a round of original zines!

In between classes, I trekked to Curious City, where words are always at play. Notice how Curious Chief Kirsten Cappy works under the watchful eyes of her beloved friends from the Hundred Acre Wood.

She served up a hearty lunch and a brilliant publicity plan for A Warmer World, my most recent illustrated book, due out on February 1. And only Kirsten could deliver a cup of tea with such delightful character. Here's my sketch:

The semester has begun again at Maine College of Art, with sparkle and great expectations.

In Illustration 2, we got rolling with a quick exercise called Alphabetic Landscape, in which one draws a word like it sounds or feels or is.

Here's a good one by Isaac.

And I love this one by Molly.

(I added the green for emphasis.)

These two words together are good indicators of what the semester will hold: lots of expanding ideas!

Meanwhile, a delightful package came in my mail from Melissa Sweet, who's just won another well-deserved award for her latest, "Balloons Over Broadway."

Somehow, she can't sit still, and sent along these very groovy potholders! Oh. My. Word.

They are too cute to use, but look lovely hanging next to her other work in our hotsy totsy kitchen.

Bravo, Melissa!

Now it's back to work, drawing more whales. In honor of the Chinese New Year, here's a book jacket I illustrated, which may make you hungry for a bowl of good fortune.

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

warming up

2012-01-17T14:10:00.001-05:00

It warms me no end to see another illustration of mine in Maine Magazine.

This one's all about the health benefits of sweat. I'm also pleased to share the pages with my MECA student, Spenser Macleod. He did an illustration for the poetry page. No sweat, Spenser. Cool.

For awhile, it didn't seem very wintery, but then, brrrrrrr, we had a good cold snap. I posted this cardinal on Facebook in honor of National Bird Day.

The very next day Mr. Cardinal was in the branches during a long-awaited snow blast. Was my art the draw?

A friend gave me some paperwhite bulbs. Not being much of a gardener, I went head over heels with the immediate gratification.

I drew her this in return.

It has since gotten even more glorious.

Over the mantel is the cover art for Nest, Nook, and Cranny, which I just learned from author Susan Blackaby has won the 2011 Lion and Unicorn Award for Excellence in North American poetry. Bravo! You can read the entire essay here, but this is my favorite quote:

"This year's winner, Susan Blackaby's Nest, Nook & Cranny, illustrated by Jamie Hogan, is not only a fine collection of poetry, but also succeeds as a book to be grasped and looked at. It somehow makes graceful the dreaded "informative nature poem" collection, transcending the genre of didactic animal books by its severe attention to poetic form, and Hogan's pastels and charcoal pencil drawings, given depth by the visible texture of her Canson paper, decorate without overwhelming the delicate verses."

I'll take that as a compliment!

Meanwhile, I still have whales on the brain. Yet with all my whale spotting, I only just noticed that there is a whale on MY DOOR.

A friend gave us these numbers nearly 20 years ago as a house warming gift: 2 thistle, 6 whale, 5 barnacle. And the whale is a humpback, too. Rather cosmic.

I am surrounded by all the right references, when I take a good look. These are just the tankers I need for my current illustration. Spied them from the ferry.

This illustration is about how humpbacks travel through shipping lanes. Really? I like thinking they are out in Casco Bay, singing their songs.

Back to both the drawing board and the classroom at Maine College of Art. Besides doing 9 more illustrations for Here Come the Humpbacks, I will have 7 new students in Illustration 2.

That, too, is sweet!

pencils + trees

2012-01-10T10:15:00.000-05:00

In the manner of Kate Bingaman Burt, who made her mark by documenting everything she bought each day with a drawing, I sketched some of the gifts I received this year as thank you cards.

Did you see the moonbow in the sky last night? So awesome. My sweetheart gave me a pair of reading glasses that have little bulbs in the temples, so you can read at night, and ahem, not wake your neighbor.
Invariably, when the moon is getting full, I am energized. An insomniac. He also gave me a Luna Time Clock, so I can always know where the moon is. An insomniac AND a lunatic! Between that, and my lunar calendar, I'm good.

My daughter helped pick out this groovy wallet. Stylish spending. Love!

Curious friends, Kirsten and Mark, gave us a little orange deer dispenser, adorable and useful. We watched Dr. Who together the day after Christmas. Wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey fun.

Susan Blackaby, amazing author of Nest, Nook, and Cranny sent from her coast to ours a trio of rubber duckies to add to our collection. Oh, and some peeps! I feel a story coming on.

My potter friend, Peg, who knows I am dotty about patterns, made this mega cup, which I drink from now, plotting in my sketchbook.

Our neighbor, Eleanor, gave us a pretty bottle of gooseberry cordial that she made from trees in her yard.

Trees are so inspirational. Here's where I segue into my current Sketchbook Project. I was talked into this last year by Mary Anne Lloyd, and it was a blast. (Here is my sketchbook 2011.) Just like last time, it took me a long time to begin. Procrastination, also known as incubating, is a large part of my process.

I've been simmering a book idea about tree houses on a back burner for over a year. Since "tree house" was one of the themes offered by the Sketchbook Project, I figured it would help get something going.

Sure enough, once I get drawing, ideas flow. I still have several pages to fill, but I did the cover this morning, inspired by our visit to Eyes on Owls in December.

I started out in the middle, thank you, Mary Anne. I began documenting the various tree houses I've encountered on Peaks Island. Here's one, where I'm not invited.

After I drew from observation, I needed some invention thrown in. Here's my resident fairy, perched on a pine cone with her acorn tea.

Drawing, looking, and reading has also broadened my idea of what is a tree house. My daughter got Wildwood for Christmas, and since she's still working on her book report on Lord of the Flies, I started reading her copy. I'm in love with the illustrations by Carson Ellis, and the story by Colin Meloy is rich in atmosphere.

There's a huge tree hanging over a bluff on the beach down the hill. Someday it may crash into the sea, but meanwhile, the roots are exposed, and got me thinking about Prue, hiding beneath a warren of coyotes.

And here's a hint. A certain tree hollow is home for our letter box. I added Kooky in my drawing, as a brave guard. See if you can find it, all you letter boxers!

And what about this naked teepee, built in the fall by Susan? She was ritually burning old papers, writings. Purging in a ceremonial way. So this is a tree house of ash and memories.

Well, I have many more pages to fill. But it's back to work, illustrating whales. Yes, Charlesbridge, I am getting there! But all work and no play would make a dull pencil. Right?

fun with numbers

2012-01-03T09:15:00.001-05:00

Happy New Year! I, for one, like the new numbers. There's a lovely symmetry, and I was born on a twelfth day of the month. This year will mark 20 years living on this rock. We had fun on New Year's Day climbing to "Billy Goat Rocks" on the back shore.

On the look out for ice, since skating had been the plan for New Year's Eve, but it was too warm.
But we found a frozen tide pool or two.

We stopped by the ice pond, where an island company once harvested ice back in the day.

It looks frozen, but not safe at over 40 degrees. Marty did this for his holiday card, same pond but full of skaters. Wishful!

Meanwhile, I am back to my whale fixation. Spotted this whale ship, a la Dr. Who, in the window at Pine Cone and Chickadee, a favorite place to find cool things.

And check out the cool gift drawn by my daughter!

Love that I look about 25. And how she leaves out most of the clutter in my studio. The buoy hanging by the window was made by my grandfather, Roland Hogan Sr., and appears in Ice Harbor Mittens.

And, she captured me drawing a whale. Sweet!
I have 7 illustrations done, and 14 to go. Here's a peak:

Speaking of books, A Warmer World is due out Feb. 1. Hooray!

I was excited to sponsor my brave neighbor, Jeanne Gulnick, who dashed and dipped for the Natural Resources Council of Maine on Dec. 31. Sadly, I got trapped in traffic and missed the actual dip. Arrived to find folks bundled up looking as red as a cooked lobster. It was a gray and raw day at East End Beach, for sure. Bravo, you polar bears!

Another highlight of the holiday was seeing my Kittery cousins. We're all so proud of Mati, visiting from San Francisco, who's been included in a new book, Creative Pilgrimage.

Even better, she showed us the proofs for another book entirely about her painting process, due out in June. Congratulations, Mati!

I'm excited for this new year. May we all find new ideas, good health, and abundant blessings in our paths. Shine on!

let it snow

2011-12-20T12:10:00.000-05:00

It's probably no coincidence that I am a winter girl. My father served in the ski troops in WWII and my mother met him in Aspen, learning to ski. They settled in the White Mountains of New Hampshire where epic snowstorms were good for business, not reason for cancellations.

So here I am, craving SNOW.
Was it coincidence that it came on Saturday morning, as we prepared to head to Portland Stage Company to see The Snow Queen?

Some berry ornaments remain for the winter birds, but the dusting of snow didn't last. Yet, the magic was just beginning.

Anita Stewart and her team of merry makers have outdone themselves with this marvelous production!
Marty had a taste working a couple of days back stage, painting props, as the design team scrambled to pull together the ambitious show. He nudged me every time something came out that he painted.

The story sweeps seamlessly through multiple tales of the journey of a young girl in search of her friend under the spell of the Snow Queen. The sets, costumes, music, and performances are altogether stunning.

I am still transfixed. The costumes by Susan Thomas are still in my head, so I've sketched them. Patricia Buckley as the Snow Queen was commanding, and she showed sly comedic talents in her many other roles, too.

My other favorite character is Ba, played masterfully by Daniel Noel.

And the Robber Girl, whew, SHE was fierce. Played to the hilt by Sally Wood. I'd join her band any day.

Portland Stage always does a grand job of offering background material and context on the play.
Anita Stewart drew inspiration from many sources, and specifically from a book of the fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen, richly illustrated by Ukrainian artist, Vladyslav Yerka.

I went looking for a curious book given to me awhile ago, Christine's Picture Book, a reproduction of a hand-made picture book by Hans Christian Andersen and Grandfather Drewsen. Andersen made several of these scrapbooks for various children of family friends, with pictures cut from the many periodicals gaining popularity at the time, for amusement and as prompts for story-telling.

The very first plate is from a theater program.

Imagine two grown men, sitting around cutting and collaging, and Andersen writing in little rhymes intended for the 3 year-old Christina, the granddaughter of his friend, Adolph Drewsen, a magistrate in Copenhagen during the mid 1800's.

This plate gets this description:

It is entirely in keeping with Andersen's feeling for the theatre that this book begins with the programme of an entertainment and a scene in the theatre. As a boy he sang in the chorus at the opera and studied at the Royal Theatre ballet school, and the stage continued to fascinate him all his life. He must have attended thousands of performances, yet was never successful as a playwright.

Hans, Anita has done you proud. I know your spirit is in the wings!

Although Andersen was not a painter, he was gifted as a visual creative. Love this crazy page. The good cheer of fellow man, one with a crown, the other with a trophy, shines.

Andersen was also famous for his paper crafts, and there are five included in the book. This one's my favorite.

The Snow Queen lifted us to extraordinary heights of fantasy and enchantment. We left Portland Stage in merry moods, and spied this holiday tradition that added to our delight.

Now I am finding magic everywhere. Look, a reindeer! We can ride to the Snow Queen's castle.

And you may not see him in this photo, but Ba is waiting for me behind this door, with his fur hat and antlers, and a glass of nog.

Snip, snap, snout, this story is out.

hoot

2011-12-12T09:15:00.001-05:00

Just as the semester at Maine College of Art wraps up, a new year begins in our house. My baby peep can't possibly be FIFTEEN already?!! Birthdays here always begin with cake for breakfast, followed by handmade cards and a cute pile of gifts. Above is my collage card for the birthday girl.

Here is Daddy's:

The owl theme is due to our visit to Maine Audubon later that afternoon, for a fascinating presentation by Mark Wilson of Eyes on Owls.

He began with a slide show of his amazing photographs, talking about owls and their habitats and where he and his wife find them.

One by one, six owls were brought from their bird boxes. Smallest first, the Northern Saw Whet, so petite and cute. He had a little monkey face!

Next was the Eastern Screech, a lovely rust color, and so calm.

If you're a fan of screeches, check out Screech Owl Designs.

The Spectacle owl looks studious, and with such graphic style.

Here the birthday girl tests out her new camera.

Mark's presentation was not only informative, but highly entertaining. He brought up kids to try imitating the hoot of each owl as it was introduced.

Here is the Barred Owl, who has the most dignified blink.

The Great Horned Owl demands your total attention and will win any stare down.

I recently borrowed a taxidermy horned owl from the Maine Audubon's collection for drawing.
My quick sketch doesn't do the bird justice.

The last owl to be presented, a Eurasian Eagle owl, was mesmerizing.

To be eye to eye with these noble birds was hypnotic. Thanks to Maine Audubon and Mark Wilson,
we ferried back to Peaks Island under a full moon, awestruck.

Time to party and make wishes!

The clear cold night called for celebration on the back shore.

Singing around a fire was a toasty finale. Happy birthday, dear daughter.

For me, back to the studio. I finally started final art for Here Comes the Humpbacks!

It helps my drawing to wear my new whale shirt, bought at the MECA Holiday Sale from former student Colleen Foley, of Second Bay Studio.

From owls to whales, nature blesses my day.

holiday blitz

2011-12-02T08:13:00.001-05:00

Can it really be December already? It just doesn't feel cold enough. With my copies of A Warmer World sitting on my desk, the mild weather feels eerily unnatural. Also tacked up nearby is a vintage postcard of ladies in swimsuits, which got me thinking about annual events like the Polar Plunge, when hearty types dash into the bay for charity.

I'm not one of them, but I was inspired to create this for my holiday card this year, an Ice Harbor Holiday where people embrace the season's chill with frisky good cheer. I'll be addressing and mailing them this weekend, the old fashioned way, of course.

'Tis also the season for holiday theater, which we've enjoyed thanks to Portland Stage Company. Here are Marty's dynamic posters for their most recent productions, in which his strong design background informs his illustrations.

He was delighted to tour backstage for a closer view of the cool set for God of Carnage before the crew came to vacuum the tons of sand. Yes, the floor here is a sand box, for powerful reason.

Artistic director Anita Steward recruited Marty and my former student and MECA alum, Alysa Avery, to be nimble helpers in the frenzied dash to get The Snow Queen ready for today. Fun to see the drawings for the set designs.

Here's Alysa at work.

Can't wait to see this show, a marvelously fresh take on the classic Hans Christian Andersen tale.

Meanwhile, over at Maine College of Art, my current crop of students finished their illustrations for a set of monster cards. For the cover, I wanted to use this illustration done during class by Wyatt Barr.
He's been exploring watercolor and all it's accidental surprises.

Marty, with his superior design sense, helped pull it together, in a way I could not have.

The class has since done a couple of other projects and now, yes this very second, is scrambling to be ready for today's Holiday Sale.

Their last and most practical assignment is to create something to sell. The illustration department table will be just inside the Free Street entrance. Here's a sneak peek from class.

Ali McCahon has made very friendly fiends to wear.

Wyatt has hand sewn a series of blank books with original watercolor covers.

Bridget Dunigan has made Random Phantoms, curious little peeps to keep you company for the long nights ahead.

Cut paper maestro Zoe made a line of Santas from various cultures, for both cards and gift tags.

There's this and much more from my class of twelve intrepid elves. Come see!

The college's front window of the Porteous Building on Congress Street says it all: bring on the Joy!

gratitude

2011-11-23T11:15:00.001-05:00

Here's a little thank you to my family, friends, and followers! I must've worked at Hallmark in a past life; I am so fond of making cards. If you haven't already gotten one of these in the mail, send your snail mail address.

I am grateful for all blessings, big and small, especially the folks in my various circles of life. May each of you have happy and safe travels today. Any journey whose destination is the welcome arms of loved ones is worth it. We normally travel on this day, but with no Nana destination, we are staying put. A relief given today's weather, but bittersweet nonetheless.

While I was (still) waiting on a response regarding sketches, I did a piece commissioned for a retirement gift. I am always thankful for clients who know original art makes a fitting gift for momentous occasions!

The client sent this, since my art would accompany the gift of a chair crafted in Maine.

The required elements of a Dickenson poem, the chair, a nest, and a robin needed to be integrated with a dedication. Whew! Lucky for me I like a challenge.

While drawing the Shaker chair, I decided to make time to see, and hopefully sketch, at the current exhibit at the Portland Museum of Art, by all accounts a stunning display of Shaker craft.

I also recalled an illustration I did years ago, for the Boston Globe, of a chair and desk. It's a piece I framed and gave to my mother, and is now back in my possession. Something about the blank paper, the used tea bag, and the draped coat make for a certain melancholy. And maybe a bit about an absence, of a writer gone to check the tea pot, stalling in the face of that blank page.

Oh how I know that feeling.

Right now, as the wind howls and the ice thickens, we await the delivery of a new couch. Furniture does not quite last a lifetime. The simple couch that was our first married purchase has more than reached the end of it's duty. Our daughter and dog will be upended, but at least I've documented their moments upon that couch.

Time now to bake, and ready for tomorrow.

I am thrilled to have my new copy of Balloons Over Broadway, by Melissa Sweet. Haven't seen her since June, when a crew of lady illustrators gathered to catch up in Portland, sharing our current projects at the time. You can see Annie O'Brien's mouth open in awe here, looking at the proofs that Melissa shared, for her story about Tony Sarg, puppet maker and creator of the balloons for Macy's parade.

We were all blown away, and knew this book would be a big hit. Indeed, it is! Watch the parade tomorrow and be glad, for the curious eye of Melissa to bring forth the wonders of how things came to be. Bravo!

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

learning moments

2011-11-14T15:29:00.001-05:00

I've never met a library I didn't like. When I arrived at the Patten Free Library in Bath, Maine, I knew I was in for a marvelous time.

It was too good to be true: a model of a boat from Time of Wonder, by Robert McCloskey, begged to become the backdrop for a slide show of my illustrations for Ice Harbor Mittens, shown while author Robin Hansen read the book, to a small but appreciative audience.

Robin led an orienteering activity, in which pretend sailors could find little lobster trap clues throughout the room.

Her brother, Scott, shared some knot-tying techniques.

The library is situated within a lovely park that includes a pond with a sculpture by William Zorach.

William and his wife Marguerite were pioneering modern artists who spent many years in Maine.
Their daughter, Dahlov Ipcar, is a renowned artist as well, still making art in her 90's.

A lively mural by Ipcar lines the children's room.

This is clearly a library that treasures the worlds of story books, and I found much to my delight. Look at these favorite characters waiting to be held while a leopard whispers a story.

There are child-sized cubbies for curling up, with a view of the magnificent Winter Street Center beyond.

This very still owl watches over everything.

I had just returned two mounts, one a great horned owl, to the Maine Audubon on my way to Bath. Did you know they have quite a collection of taxidermy that can be on loan, two items at a time, for a week? I brought the owl and a red fox into my class at Maine College of Art, for a session of nature studies.

Caitlin Alger (foreground drawing above) always brings personality to her illustration.

Ali McCahon (below) added some of the marine specimens from the science room to keep her fox company.

Bridget Dunigan added subtle watercolor to her ink drawing.

I lugged these critters back home, for a family drawing session.

Marty used the opportunity to draw in his Sketchbook Project.

Daisy drew a very cool owl. Hoot!

Here's my pastel rough of the very engaging fox.

I was sad to bring them back. Even though these animals are long gone, their spirits are very present.

How fitting that the advance copies of A Warmer World arrived! I enjoyed drawing animals for this book about how climate change affects wildlife.

Let's hope this book engages young readers to honor the planet, and the habitats we share with all creatures.

fiber & fashion

2011-11-09T20:49:00.001-05:00

I think I started drawing girls in clothes in junior high. I thought I'd be a fashion designer right up until touring the apparel design department at RISD and noticing the sewing machines. Sewing? Me? I don't think so. I didn't have fond times in home ec.

And yet, the fervor of Project Runway caused me to buy fabric, thinking I would retrofit an old coat, um, about two years ago. Finally opted to show this battered sketch to Susan Hanley, proprietress of the renowned Peaks Island Fiber Arts Camp.

Repurposing is all the rage, so why not update a dolman-sleeved coat bought at the Esprit warehouse in SF in 1986? Susan was very up for it. I found a bold pattern at Joanne's that looked like an overblown doodle. Makes quite a contrast with the composition book pattern of the original coat.

Voila!

What I need now is a slimmer silhouette.

We're lucky to be enjoying rather mild November weather. While Marty has been out battening down the hatches, I've been doing sketches for Storey. Uncanny how art imitates life and vice versa. Right after doing this drawing:

I ran into Sheila on the ferry, showing off a cool hat knit by her mom.

Speaking of knitting, I will be at the Patten Free Library this Saturday at 10:30 AM, to talk about Ice Harbor Mittens with author Robin Hansen. There will be orienteering with a compass, drawing imaginary maps, and other fuzzy fun.

If you're out and about, you can also stop in at the Gem Gallery, where Laura Glendenning, co-founder of the Peaks Island Fiber Arts Camp, has installed Artery, "half article, half art."

Here is Laura and fellow fiber artist, Janni Peterson, considering the goods.

Yes, that's a deer skull doubling as a jewelry display. Islanders are a resourceful lot. I already posted the sketch I made from this, but my inspiration here involves a pair of antlers found near the compost pile, truly.

Mainers know winter's coming and well-worn knits will keep us warm in woolly style.

I'll be back to sketching girls in clothes. Here's one I did of Judy Paolini, designer, author, and publicist who lives down the bay on Long Island, yet still manages to look ever so groovy.

And if fashion is your thing, check out the benefit for HomeHealth Visiting Nurses. I donated signed copies of my books for a silent auction, all part of Runway: Fashion for Life.

So much style, so little time...

sacred and profane

2011-11-07T13:53:00.000-05:00

Should anyone think island living is without it's adventures, here are recent happenings on Peaks that have shined with mystery and magic.

This lovely installation by Alicia Eggert was part of the recent Sacred & Profane event, an annual art celebration within the tunnels of Battery Steele on Peaks Island, around the harvest full moon. The Peaks Island Land Preserve graciously allows the property to be taken over by pagan howlings that echo into the depths, which were about 4 inches deep with fresh rain. The above neon piece flickered, with the word "on" going off sporadically, to reveal multiple meanings.

S & P has been quietly taking place for I think 15 years, unadvertised and unfunded, and often uncredited. Alicia's work took the cake, as it were, for mirroring a certain reality often taken for granted. I heard she came last year, loved the environment, and got a grant to create the above for this year's event. She teaches at Bowdoin College and recently gave a lecture at Maine College of Art.

Peaks Island painter Diane Wiencke installed a wooden tower, ringed by votive candles, to greet the throngs.

Booster Signal was at the ready, carefully photographing auras of the willing.

Your photo declares on the back: "thanks for the loan of a piece of your soul, as nothing is sacred we will take our toll."

There's always a bit of nonsense and grunge, too. I enjoyed a glass of unfiltered cider, pressed on site, at Cafe Derelicte.

A few days later, I was offered spice cake by my neighbor Susan, who occupied Welch Street in a different kind of installation.

By then, Halloween was in the air. Our daughter was inspired by a character spotted in Dr. Who.
I like the metaphor here, of seeing with your hands.

We had to get in the act, too.

Leave it to fellow illustrators Scott and Nancy Nash to annually outdo themselves with their seasonal performance. Every year, they and a crew of hooligans transform their property into the must-see destination on Halloween. Hello, Helloween, in which everyone was asked to sign a contract with the devil to get their candy.

And then you could toss a soul into the ring of eternal damnation!

Not easy to come back to earth after all the fantasy. I began by walking in the woods, and documenting tree houses on the island, for the Sketchbook Project.

I chose tree houses as my theme, hoping to make progress on a book idea. Now I am noticing them everywhere.

Both Marty and our daughter are doing the Sketchbook Project, too. We all sat down this weekend, and broke the ice. With Prismacolors. Marty is starting "uncharted waters" by drawing from life.

Daisy is practicing here, for "time traveler"....

Here's one of my sketches, of a tree house found on the Indian trails...

Sketching is a sacred act, allowing one to stop in a moment, and drink in the reality.

Time to get back to the drawing board and finish another illustration for Maine Magazine. This ones' in the current issue. It's about your skin being the wrapping of an inner glow, a gift that glows from within.

I've always believed that age is but a costume for the soul.

Shine on!

dem bones

2011-10-31T10:25:00.000-04:00

I'm in sort of a lull between deadlines, waiting on the green light for three projects. But no dull moments here. A recent lunch with Curious City at El Rayo got me in the mood. That place is so cheery, it makes my week. I brought home a candy skull to fuel the spirits.

Made me think of an illustration I did back in my collage days for Chris Hadden, designed for a promo for Spectrum. I was asked to interpret the phrase "dead on."

I once lived in the Mission District of San Francisco, where there's a year round Mexican flavor. With skulls on the brain, I've had an eye out for what's beneath the skin. Like, where do things begin?

I met Truly, a third grader who came to Down East's Fall into Books event at the Portland Public Library recently. I prompted her as she worked on her story of seven days, in the handy blank booklets I give to kids. They've got stories, I've got ears.

On Tuesday, Truly took a test. She drew a desk with lime green tennis balls on the legs. An eye for detail and truth, she has.

Meeting young artist/authors definitely goes beneath the skin, in a good way. If I can help them begin, swell.

The library is right at the center of Occupy Maine, in Monument Square.

You've gotta love the spirit of this movement, whatever your politics.

I went straight to Portland Stage Company to see The Morini Strad. How lovely: the paper stage set designed by executive and artistic director, Anita Stewart, who I'd just seen at the library. Seeing where the vision for a production begins is fascinating.

We had darn good seats: thank you very much, Portland Stage!

A few days later at Maine College of Art, illustration department chair Alex Rheault brought in a resident from Quimby Colony, the graphic novelist, Cody Pickrodt. He told the class he began in illustration by doing the comic con circuit. "Know your ammo," he said.

My class had a feast of guests, when fellow professor Calef Brown visited with his latest work.
He showed brush and ink drawings that get his engine going, by moving out of small sketchbooks into big stuff.

Yes, the start of something big.

Directly following Calef, we all trooped off to a lecture by The Little Friends of Printmaking.
God, they are good. In typical fashion, I took notes. Became rather fixated on Melissa's luscious hair.

Seriously, I could draw her for days.

Among their tips for success is "do great work." We're tryin'.

After the talk, students swarmed around their vibrant and layered silkscreen posters. No drooling, please.

I didn't stick around for more. Had to get back to my island. I walked with my daughter, noticing the pool that's shown up again after so much rain.

This pond comes and goes with the weather, but provides regular inspiration in its transitory ripples.
Here is a pastel I did awhile ago, "Hallowed."

That little witch hasn't grown up too too much, thanks to good witches that mentor!

For frivolity at Russell French's studio, my skull thing showed up as pizza pie.

With our pumpkins lit, let All Hallow's Eve begin!

on the drawing trail

2011-10-24T09:06:00.000-04:00

I drew this still life while waiting for Judy LaBrasca to join me last week at the Portland Museum of Art. Drawing is the best thing I know to create patience and awareness. It occupies and lightens the mood, anytime, anywhere. We sat in the newly renovated cafe and caught up. Judy was my first mentor at Maine College of Art when I began teaching there several years ago. She shared some of the sketchbooks she's made for her Narrative Sketchbook class in Continuing Studies. Lovely!

A couple of days later, I joined with another MECA colleague, Mary Anne Lloyd, who shared a batch of student works from a recent project in her Illustration 2 course. Bravo!

Mary Anne brought out her "nature box" and we drew with our daughters. A mighty fine way to pass a drizzly after school day. Thanks, Mary Anne!

Next up, I brought my class of MECA illustration students to Maine Audubon, where we found inspiration in the taxidermy on display.

Here's a very personable skunk by Ali.

Brittany drew the same fellow with high contrast and heft.

Bill drew this fowl that begs a caption.

Caitlin captured a certain mousy tension in this drawing.

Devin drew this porcupine, bristling with attitude.

Spenser drew a snowshoe hare and a puffin.

Zoe found likenesses to draw. Here a hummingbird evokes a ballerina in flight.

I sketched a fox.

If only I had known these resources were so close to home last winter when I was working on this illustration for A Warmer World, due out in 2012 from Charlesbridge.

After two hours of staring at stuffed things, it was refreshing to scout out the landscape.

As long as I have a pencil, I'll follow the drawing trail. Thanks to Maine Audubon!

song of myself

2011-10-14T14:05:00.000-04:00

I never take birthdays for granted, mine or anyone else's. As Mel Robbins said recently on Ted, the odds of our birth is a 1 in 400 trillion chance of fate. Now that I have passed safely into middle age, I seem to have more blessings than I can count. I'll start with the above, a handmade birthday card from my beloved, who so graphically captured my love of dots and red and ME.

I also got this original portrait from the inimitable Kathy Mahoney, who I miss terribly since she moved from New England.

I have quite a collection of portraits that capture certain pages of my life in indelible ways.

I did this one in a brush and ink class with Victor Johnson during my junior year at RISD.

It was the first class in which I was encouraged to let loose.

Did this one senior year. Learning about light and form with charcoal, gouache, and pastel.

Trying to remember what a senior illustration major is thinking here, now that I am sharing a classroom with a dozen of them at Maine College of Art. I consider my role as a teacher an exchange of perspectives. I may possess more perspective, being older, but theirs is fresh. We can learn from each other.

They know I'm a big advocate of observational drawing, and we sometimes draw from the model. And when the model is missing, we draw each other. In this case, we threw in some props, like a cowboy hat, which adds a narrative of sorts. I'll model, too, to break the ice. This is Zoe's drawing of me.

Her classmate, Austin, observes something totally different.

Found this blast from the past, by Paul Baldessari, done for Stuff Magazine in the early 80's.
Life was in the nail-biting fast lane then.

Flash forward to 2001, when I drew this sober look for the contributors page for Attache Magazine.

The good news is that the last 10 years have been pretty darn sweet. I can still get excited about unwrapping a new box of Prismacolor pencils! And I am still illustrating, another blessing, of persistence in a fickle field.

I spent some of my birthday sketching for a project for Storey. These are a good warm-up for illustrations about cast on techniques. Feeling fuzzy already.

My daughter posed for this one, with a pair of antlers found near the compost pile a few years ago.

Today the weather is way too wet for mittens. But perfect for drawing inside, and counting blessings.

pop up printmaking in IL 421

2011-10-07T12:16:00.000-04:00

MECA's senior illustration majors recently began a silkscreen assignment by visiting Emblem Studio, located in the nearby Artist Studio building on Congress Street in Portland. Front man Kris Johnsen was a MECA student once, too, and warmly welcomed my curious class into his work space lined with gig posters. He shared a bit of process, pointing out drawing layers for a recent print.

After talking and answering questions, Kris escorted us over to Space Gallery, where the exhibit
"Pulled" gave the class plenty of inspiration. The show features silkscreen prints curated by Mike Perry, whose book of the same name, "Pulled: a Catalog of Screen Printing" made a great companion to bring back to the classroom.

I like introducing students to silkscreen because it forces a stronger graphic sense and a respect for old-fashioned making of multiples. They worked on ideas, showed sketches for critique, and two weeks later, Kris came to MECA and walked them through the photo emulsion process. While coated screens were drying in a dark closet, Zoe was ready to go with her cut stencil design.

Here's one of her prints, drying.

The class was unable to use the printmaking facilities at MECA, since all the print majors meet at the same time as my class. Thanks to Lisa Pixley, we headed over to the Pickwick Independent Press, specifically to use the dark room for exposing the screens, now dry.

Kris demonstrated with Spenser's screen, talking about flooding the screen with ink, amount of pressure and speed when pulling the squeegee, and other tips.

Meanwhile, Caitlin dove into printing with her cut stencil design. It worked!

Kris showed a couple of students how to oil down their design, a quick and slick method of making a design transparent enough for exposing.

One by one, students brought their screen and design into the darkroom. This one is Brittany's.

The design and screen are sandwiched together in the dark room. After the light sensitive emulsion was exposed for seven minutes, the next step was washing out the emulsion.

The screens now had to dry, and students brought ink and paper to the next class. We met back at MECA in a drawing studio, making due with tables and clotheslines. Brittany began with black.

And she got the hang of it.

Spenser and Bill teamed up for Bill's printing.

Caitlin and Ali teamed up here.

Ali created a graphic ode to Breathless, in two colors, with nice registration.

Caitlin tried her design on a ribbed tank.

Michael made a bear with Finnish appeal.

Devin's shirt sported two colors with a Maine theme.

Once you have ink on a squeegee, it can wind up anywhere. Here is Austin, modeling an argyle look Devin made.

Spenser fancied the tie-dye look. Here is his Merlin design.

Some students found frustration: they had difficulties with emulsion, with making test prints that degraded, and using up ink on disasters. Nope, not as easy as it looks. But they came away with new skills, inky clothes, and perhaps more respect for analog printing.

MECA will be hosting The Little Friends of Printmaking in November, when the power of print will leap from the walls.

Thank you Maine College of Art, Kris Johnsen, and Pickwick!

good vibes

2011-09-30T10:11:00.003-04:00

I am thrilled to have another illustration appear, the above, in the October issue of Maine Magazine. Genevieve Morgan's stories always conjure up lots of imagery, and I enjoy visualizing topics with depth, and in this case color!

I love working with them. I send a bunch of sketches, they always pick the best one, and off I go.
Here's a sneak peek at the one for November/December, about skin care, from the inside out. The premise is somewhat related to the above, in that our outward appearance benefits from good health at the cellular level. No matter the age, we are a gift, and the glow comes from within.

My rough sketch:

I have this behemoth book, with a spine measuring over six inches, published in 1915 titled
"Domestic Medical Practice." It has fantastic anatomical stuff, and I enlarged a portion of skin cells for a collage bit. Tried them in a variety of colors.

Here is the final illustration.

Meanwhile, the season is changing. I love the light at this time of year, and taking late afternoon walks with my daughter. She took this photo, and I like her manual viewfinder. It's all about noticing.

Low tide finds the return of this heron.

This reminds me: heading tomorrow to Cathryn Falwell's book launch for Gobble, Gobble! at Audubon's. Stay sunny, please!

Look, it's a committee of cormorants, with one seagull.

It's also cruise season. Saw the Queen Elizabeth docked over in Portland in very magical fog.

Fog is frequent visitor along the coast and a plot device in Ice Harbor Mittens. I met with author Robin Hansen and Curious City this week to discuss upcoming events. We'll be at the Portland Public Library on October 22. Come say hello!

I just finished reading two great books about sketching. Drawn In by Julia Rothman is a great collection of 44 contemporary sketchbooks. And an even broader, larger collection can be found in An Illustrated Life. I find inspiration in the visual roamings and drawing disciplines of others.

Being back in the classroom with my students keeps my pencil sharp. Here's a few recent sketches.

I noticed this old man reading in the ferry terminal, moving his finger across the page.

It's fun to draw people who actually aren't posing, because their movement makes for a drawing that is part observation, part cumulative memory.

Here's a teen, reading and listening.

Have you ever seen the Dark Follies? Caught this performer, the ringmaster, in Monument Square on a First Friday.

This is Stacy, who works at MECA. I've always envied her full-bodied hair, and sketched her in the library.

And here is my very own Marty, who celebrated a birthday recently.

This means my own birthday is soon to follow. And my favorite month, October! I am happy that my off-hand sketching has yielded a JOB. Time to work on sketches for Storey, for a book about knitting.

Here's what the art director comped up. Sketchy chic...

Okay, enough stalling. Back to the drawing board. I'm up for good vibes.

whale spotting

2011-09-23T10:14:00.000-04:00

This impromptu gesture made by my daughter while we were browsing at Artists & Craftsman Supply made me think about keeping our eyes open. Since starting on Here Come the Humpbacks for Charlesbridge in June, I've been spotting whales everywhere.

First I found them in our own toy bin.

And this little life-like model pairs well with cocktail napkins found at Take a Peak.

I couldn't resist this platter from Velocity Art and Design. Perfect for a Sunday morning of warm scones, yes?

And while traveling through Wiscasset, I had to stop and buy this porcelain white whale found at Rock Paper Scissors. Exquisite.

Yes, there have been books read, such as A Whale for the Killing by Farley Mowat, and films watched.

When I take on a subject, full immersion is necessary. I've intended to go on a whale watch, but instead find them in unexpected places. Like at the Gem Gallery, during Carol Cartier's "Wilderness" show, where I found these whales ready to play ping pong.

Just saw this in the window of the new Pine Cone & Chicadee shop on Free Street. Want.

This bears a strong resemblance to Rockwell Kent's illustration for Moby Dick. I've requested the classic from the MECA library, since illo grad and white whale expert Seaums Doherty says I must read it.

In July I lived vicariously through my family, who explored without me the inflatable whale that visited Peaks Island, thanks to the Children's Musuem of Maine.

I thought I might see a whale on the ferry to Nova Scotia in August, but instead, a stone whale awaited me at Nicole d'Entremont's cabin in Pubnico.

And what's hanging in the Hogan camp on the Bay of Fundy, built by my grandfather in 1934? A wooden whale made by my Uncle Roland Hogan. Perfect.

We did see an amazing skeleton at the New Brunswick Museum, of a right whale named Delilah.
I sat under a life size model of her, dwarfed and amazed, unable to capture her immensity in this sketch.

Since sending off my sketches to Charlesbridge 3 weeks ago, I found time to visit an excellent show of children's book illustration at UNE, with esteemed companions, Kirsten Cappy and Cathryn Falwell.

Besides finding the wonderful work of my neighbor, Scott Nash, I delighted seeing my heroes Barbara Cooney, Dr. Suess, and this lovely leviathan by Peter Sis.

From the show, we girls made a short but breezy getaway to Taylor Pond, thanks to Cathryn's hospitality. We relaxed in the fresh air. Ahhhh. So needed a break in the action!

While I am fixed on whales, Cathryn has a magnet for frogs. Spotted this fellow in a culvert next to her cabin.

During the return voyage to my island, a local tug escorts another tanker down the river.

This familiar sight came in handy for one sketch for a spread in the book, in which author April Pulley Sayre writes about the dangers of shipping lanes to the migrations of whales.

Back on my island, I ride my bike to the backshore, and notice the shadows starting to look like fall.

Oh, and how the sign on this seafront cottage, now empty, catches the sun.

I'm even finding whales in the clouds that float over the rocks. I did this loose sketch from a memory.

Word has it that the sketches are now in the final stage of approval, with experts and fact-checkers.
Time now to clean the studio and line up my pastels in anticipation!

back in the hive

2011-09-12T18:14:00.000-04:00

Another semester has begun in the BFA program at Maine College of Art, with some refreshing changes. We have a new Interim Dean, Ian Anderson, who has worn many hats during his time with the school. He's been both on faculty and in the administration. Yay for all of us.
Above is my impromptu phrenology of a dean: one who makes art, listens, knows the bones of the institution, the students, the faculty, and the staff, and has a big heart.

There's a whole new studio space for majors in illustration, new media, graphic design, and photography. Kinda chaotic sorting out who got what desk where, but the sunshine prevailed.

On the first day of IL 421, the illustration majors' studio class, students brought in sketchbooks they were asked to fill over the summer. I'm trying to figure out what moves them in their spare time.

Alex is big on the cosmic scene right now, painting planets and deep space.

Devin's full of pathos.

Bridget has editorial ideas, in this drawing mourning the passing of the shuttle enterprise.

Bill enjoys fantasy characters in elaborate costume.

Brittany has a fluid style for figures.

Zoe's sketchbook is filled with a cast of adorable characters.

Ali created a cat named Louis, ready to star in a story.

We drew from a model together, all feeling a bit out of practice. I'm happy to report this class is able to draw circles around me. Here's a sketch by Michael.

I did this one of the setting.

Good warm-up for sketching the president, Don Tuski, shortly after class, while he gave a report on MECA in Osher Hall. Things are happening, lots of good news and forward movement.

I lingered in the halls to check out the current show of MFA student work. This installation of drawings by Carlos Pileggi is mesmerizing.

MECA is five sprawling floors of intense surprises; students have ample room to put their work out there. Down the hall is Mail Me, an exhibit of incoming student art mailed from home during the summer.

This one stood out, by Peter Rimkunas. It deftly captures the maze we travel in, as well as the aspirations that stand above the rest. The sense of order, structure, and conceptual meaning are well beyond the average. I hope he takes an illustration class! (note: after posting this encountered him in the halls, he is a transfer illustration major now, to our good fortune.)

I liked this one, too, by Vivian Ewing. Could be a potential sculpture major. Many students stayed in the bounds of a square, perhaps that was the required format. But this mobile with fluttering color and a paper crane, delicately folded from a map, ascends to another place.

It feels good to be back in the hive again.

labors of love & seaweed soup

2011-09-05T15:58:00.000-04:00

What a fast summer, full of sunshine and seaweed soup. Thanks to the brilliant bookings of Curious City, I had the honor of visiting another round of libraries, including my very own, the small but mighty Peaks Island Branch. A pretend delicacy from Seven Days of Daisy made it's debut: jellyfish sandwiches!

You can make yours with graham crackers, vanilla icing, red licorice string, and peach gummies.

Yummy!

It was the final evening of the Summer Reading Program, and the esteemed Pat Crowley Rockwell

was a major addition, providing piano music and a song (days of the week, what else?).

photo courtesy of Kathie Schneider

The kids enjoyed making up their own stories, and just diving into coloring.

Here they're awaiting their reward for reading all summer. (new books, thanks to Friends of the Peaks Island Library.)

photo courtesy of Kathie Schneider

And cleverly fishing out the candy from the seaweed soup!

In between trips to Nova Scotia and Circus Smirkus, I manned a table with my daughter, my muse and cohort, at the Fifth Maine's annual Art on the Porch. Her cheerful work inspires me, and delights many.

She created this alpana design, which I added to "Illustrating One World", a presentation I made at the Thomas Memorial Library recently.

A great gang of young artists set about making their marks, some with radial designs inspired by alpanas found in Rickshaw Girl, some drew seascapes, surfing, and faces. One boy drew galactic cartoons.

Kids love having free reign.

I had the pleasure the next day of boating past Pumpkin Knob, just like the kids do on Sunday in Seven Days of Daisy. That's it, a little spit of rock on the north tip of Peaks Island.

My destination was the lovely library on Long Island.

I was warmly welcomed like a neighbor, especially when a girl named Phoebe handed me a gift of fresh warm gingerbread cookies! The kids enjoyed seeing the Aucocisco II on the last page of Seven Days of Daisy, the boat they know well.

One artist collaged her own bits of calendar into her book.

Her sister was more interested in the sensual qualities of pastel dust.

Either way, I love when kids respond to materials in their own intuitive manner. I'm not telling them how to do it, but simply providing the time and place to explore, follow choices of color, paper size, subject matter, and curiosity.

And they made awesome treats, too!

En route to my next library, I stopped at the Atrium Gallery where Tell Me a Story had concluded.

It was a fantastic display of Maine children's book illustrations involving folktales and world cultures. So glad to have been part of it!

My pieces were from The Star Fruit Tree, Rickshaw Girl, and Cricket Magazine.

Quite an honor to be alongside the legendary Ashley Bryan. Loved his display of puppets made from found objects.

From Lewiston, I headed to South China. Lo and behold, a famous landmark pointed the way! The mystery is why are there two Swedens with different mileage?

The venerable South China Public Library is the oldest continuously operating library in the state of Maine, since 1830.

The youth book group had not only read Rickshaw Girl, but were eager to discuss their favorite characters. And get into alpanas! Sedona had fun wearing the projections.

Once again, the young artists made some cool drawings, too.

I am ever grateful to libraries, for providing sources of reference, infinite worlds between book covers, and platforms for dreaming and drawing. My first ever summer tour is now over, and I've headed back to the classroom (hello, MECA) and my own studio.

Another deadline: a pastel, recently commissioned as a wedding gift: Falmouth Town Landing on a sunny afternoon. This patron says, who needs another pan? Original art is way more memorable to receive. Hear, hear!

Adieu, long days!

o canada

2011-08-17T10:31:00.000-04:00

Daisy shot this photo in an underpass on our way to a ferry in St. John, New Brunswick, as
we made a brisk loop in down east Canada to visit friends and family in early August.

Even on vacation, my radar was fixed on whales. I sketched this on the 3 hour trip across the Bay of Fundy.

I drew from a large poster of whales, awaiting a talk about the Fundy aquarium ecozone, in which humpbacks are the most common whale species. Brian, from the New Brunswick Museum, gave an informative talk, and passed around several samples of baleen, the brushy teeth-like parts that line a humpback's mouth.

We had hopes of spotting whales, but alas, did not. Back inside again, the cabin was filled with sleepy passengers lulled by the ocean. I drew this dreaming lady.

Once we landed in Digby, Nova Scotia, we headed up the picturesque French coast, past churches and lighthouses, coves and pastures. We landed at Nicole d'Entremont's, a part-time Peaks Islander whose ancestors founded the village of Pubnico. I did a quick sketch of her while she told stories.

She gave us a grand tour of the area, beginning with birthplaces of great great great grandfathers and then the startlingly modern Pubnico Point Wind Farm. We'd seen the turbines from a distance, but

standing beneath their immensity brought a certain elation.

We toured Le Village Historique Acadien, a preservation site of enormous beauty and folklore.

The blacksmith fascinated us with his rhythmic pounding with sparks flying.

In the house next door, I spotted some fisherman's mittens, a la Ice Harbor Mittens!

Quite natural, given that nearby is the largest fishing fleet in the Northeast, where tidy boats were idle at the end of the day.

We reluctantly left Middle East Pubnico for the drive north to Halifax. Stumbling upon a UFO Musuem in Shag Harbor, we wondered if the Doctor had been there. It was just the odd diversion that made the trip amusing as well as scenic.

Once in Halifax, we toured another historic landmark, the Citadel, which boasts panoramic views of the harbor, as well as regalia inside the fort.

While in reach of the internet, I had to do a bit of work. Sketches for Maine Magazine. The hotel bed was a handy studio.

From there, we headed to Hogan turf, over in Young's Cove, where my great great grandfather, William Roland Hogan, was born in 1839. My cousins Peg and Tom are now the stewards of the cabin build by my grandfather Roland Bell Hogan in 1934. Good news: now there is electricity and running water inside. Outside, torrents of rain cascaded down Hogan Brook.

It all runs into the Bay of Fundy, the world's highest tides ecozone. Here's the awesome view from the cabin.

The day's weather had kept us mostly inside, perfect for sketching Peg and Tom's gentle dog, Max.

During dinner with more cousins, Danny and Nathalie, we heard a bit of a story, Me and Hap, written by my grandfather, in which he details his boyhood adventures in the Maritimes. Some day we'll get this published, but for now, it is full of another time and place, along with his lovely illustrations.

As we journeyed home on a big ferry and then another small one, I felt deep satisfaction in touching the family legacy of place, with wonder and gratitude.

Daisy and I immediately busied ourselves with participating in the Fifth Maine's annual Art on the Porch. Any coincidence this was her newest piece?

Now it's back to the drawing table, along with a string of library visits. I'll be at the Thomas Memorial Library this Thursday (egads, tomorrow) and ferrying over to Long Island bright and early on Friday.

It's the seafaring life for this salty illustrator.

moto Maine

2011-08-01T15:36:00.000-04:00

I love Maine. The state, the sea, the magazine. Above is my illustration that appears in the August issue for a wellness column about surfing in Maine. Something I've always wanted to try, but meanwhile it's hard enough to squeeze in time for even one hobby, motorcycling.

We like to take moto trips to celebrate our wedding anniversary, and since moving here in '92 we've generally stayed right in Maine, exploring this big ole state. This year we didn't go far. After a detour to Street Cycles to get new helmets, we stopped back in town at the Blue Spoon for lunch, where I had this lovely backdrop for my sweet GB 500.

We rode down the coast past marshes and shorelines to the Cape Arundel Inn. Arriving a bit soaked by a late afternoon shower, we were nonetheless delighted by the gorgeous gardens and views.

Somebody made sure there was a bouquet of roses awaiting! The best part was having leisure time to draw them the next morning, with sunshine. Thank you, Marty!

Next on the agenda was some art viewing. The Ogunquit Museum of American Art is an amazing destination, perched overlooking Narrow Cove, and surrounded by an unforgettable sculpture garden.

A striking installation by ceramicist Susan Schultz focused on a theme I've encountered a lot lately:
what washes up on the beach. In her series called Plastic Ocean, she collects flotsam, then creates porcelain pieces based on actual plastic shapes, and makes sculptures of them.

Here's a close-up:

Interesting when it's all one color, a la Nevelson, it captures an unlikely beauty that the real trash does not. As one who walks the beach daily, I find my share of flotsam. I pick it up and put it in the trash bin where it belongs. This artist has a whole different approach, painstaking, altering, and altogether dramatizing.

With whales on my brain, I walked out to the garden and spied this, by Cabot Lyford.

I'm just finishing "The Whale: In Search of the Giants of the Sea" by Philip Hoare. It's a sobering read, about the centuries of whale hunting, and the current pollution of plastic and sonar that continues to threaten whales. Yet the unseen mystery of whales enthralls me.

The next day, we toured the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge in Wells. It's a mostly shaded walk along a salt marsh, educational and sublime.

I am mesmerized by the undulations of tidal creeks. This is a pastel I did a couple of years ago, titled "Sanctuary."

I think I need to do more, based on the vistas preserved in the name of Rachel Carson. But first,
back to the drawing board, and humpbacks.

Also, tomorrow I am reading Seven Days of Daisy for the final program of the Peaks Island Library's summer reading program. Jellyfish sandwiches, here we come!

connections on the book trail

2011-07-25T12:56:00.001-04:00

I recently visited Judy Labrasca's narrative book class at Maine College of Art, scene of the crime 9 years ago when I hatched my own Seven Days of Daisy. It's a marvelous class, and I enjoy revisiting the space where stories begin. Judy always brings in lots of supplies, all organized in irresistible fashion.

She also brings in loads of books for browsing when the mind draws a blank. Quite satisfying that mine are in the mix.

Judy shares a ton of information, which might seem overwhelming, but becomes a backdrop to all the inspiration.

She made small books for students to start visualizing. I was immediately drawn to the colorful energy splashing around this book.

It never ceases to amaze me the variety of ideas that come out of this class. Students generally have been carrying around either a specific story, or just the yearning for one, for a long time. The class provides the diving board. You bring a deep well of visions, and finally are given the proper space to tap them, with Judy's thoughtful guidance.

It changed my life. Thank you, Judy!

I showed the dummy made in class. It's only 3.5 inches tall but I remain quite proud of my story seed.

From MECA, I went to the Scarborough Library, where I made an Illustrating One World, Many Stories presentation to a group of young artists. I showed the process of making the illustrations for Rickshaw Girl and other projects that involved immersing myself in another culture through books, film, music, and live models getting into costume. Afterwards, kids shared my supplies and just started drawing.

Jillian so sweetly gave me this drawing, inspired by the alpana designs that the character, Naima, creates around her family's dwelling in Bangladesh. Thanks, Jillian!

Another artist, Lucy, drew this pink pig. You'll notice from the dummy page above, that Daisy has a pig collection. What's not to love about this? Thanks, Lucy!

This artist has a good eye. Heads are not easy to draw without a good sense of proportion.

This boy drew a killer whale which I immediately recognized, now that I am working on a current project about whales.

Once paper and pastels start flying around, it's a creative free-for-all and a sight to behold. Making art seems to be too often cut from the curriculum, or defined by a narrow product. Letting kids choose what to draw unleashes their imaginations on paper, and I encourage all of it. It's about paying attention, to their ideas and observations. Their creative identities make them who they are.

Thank you, Scarborough Public Library, for letting me connect with a fine band of young creators!

Once I got home, my daughter showed off books she made in a youth camp at the TEIA.

The making of books, and the filling of books, are wonderful acts of connecting to the world. Yes, I am biased about the tangible joys found in the book as an object and vessel. Why else would I head out again on the book trail?

On Saturday, I stopped at the Island Institute, where my books are on display at Archipelago, a swell shop featuring products made by Maine islanders.

I took a quick look in the Farnsworth Art Museum, where, among the Wyeths, Robert Indiana's work makes variations on an indelible theme.

My destination for the afternoon was the Maine Lighthouse Museum where I joined 8 other authors for a book signing.

It was fun to chat with fellow illustrator, Nicole Fazio, whose latest book is a charmer. I sketched her sitting across the room.

I also drew some of the cool buoys, a colorful collection hanging from the ceiling.

I was thrilled to find myself next to C. S. Lambert, whose Sea Glass Chronicles is a treasured book of mine. Here she shares a shadow box filled with favorite finds.

As a veteran thingfinder, I couldn't resist her latest, Sea Glass Hunter's Handbook. She introduced me to the term, flotsametrics. Who knew there was a cosmic flow? She also identified the shard I collaged into this illustration in Seven Days of Daisy,

Daisy, after all, has her own flotsam and jetsam collection, mostly rope. Peaks Island abounds with good spots for finding glass and shards. After meeting Carole, I looked the next day and found these without much effort. How many? Seven, of course!

It could be coincidental, but we have a rubber ducky collection that shares the wall with a compass rose mosaic mirror I made years ago from shards found entirely on Peaks.

No matter where I go, connections surface. It takes paying attention, and being open to what life brings to my shore. How fortunate that books are my vessel.

Now, I'm back in the studio to go deep with humpback whales. Hooray!

have pencils, will travel

2011-07-19T09:14:00.003-04:00

My bookish travels have taken me to interesting places. In Skowhegan, I spotted a shop called From Nana to You. I simply had to pull over. Look at the vintage British paintbox I scored.

I love everything about this illustration: the zoomy feel, the Space Station 7, the goofy moon. With 100 colours, anything is possible.

I also found a vintage DownEast magazine from the year I was born. Guess that makes me vintage.
Back before all magazines had to have slick photography covers. The illustration is by Henry Martin.

My destination, the Skowhegan Free Public Library, is a proud keeper of many universes.

I read Seven Days of Daisy and prompted a table of kids to think about what makes their 7 days tick.

There's an enormous silver shoe in the entryway, an ode to the local shoe industry. There's got to be a story around it.

Best of all is the lovely painting inside. A treasure, indeed. Thanks to the library!

I left to drive past fields and hills, rivers and marshes, over to Edgecomb, where I was sheltered by Kim, the kind friend who knows how to make me feel at home, with touches like this by the guest bed.

The next morning, I visited the Bristol Area Library in New Harbor.

I found new friends waiting in a charming children's room. What a welcome sight. Love the mural!

After another reading and drawing, I was on my sunny way back down Route 1, hopefully leaving kids with their own stories taking shape. Thank you, swell library!

When you are crawling through Wiscasset, the prettiest bottleneck in Maine, you should stop at Rock, Paper, Scissors. It is hands down, my favorite shop. Like a candy store for artists.

They sell many things, but it's the books, cards, tape, groovy pens, stickers, wrapping paper, rubber stamps, shall I go on? I bought a pair of scissors, shaped like a long-beaked bird, for my scissor collection.

I was home on Peaks Island just long enough to eat, sleep, and read. The next day as I boarded the ferry, a crowd was lining up for the Peaks to Portland Swim, the 30th annual open water race, 2.4 miles across the bay.

But I headed to Bayswater Books in Center Harbor, NH for a book signing. It was fun to meet a fellow author/illustrator, Marty Kelley. We talked shop in the heat rising from the parking lot. We were joined by local favorite, Karel Hayes, and the author of her recent book, The Witches, Andy Opel.

Indeed, good times traveling with books and art supplies, connecting with old friends, and making new ones.

On Wednesday, I'll be at the Scarborough Public Library for an Illustrating One World presentation.
Then it's off to the Maine Lighthouse Museum in Rockland for another book event with DownEast authors this Saturday, July 23.

Meanwhile, I'm at the drawing board today, made in the shade. Best place to be!

drawing with color

2011-07-15T21:45:00.002-04:00

"Colors are the children of light." So said Johannes Itten, a Swiss painter and Bauhaus teacher.

Here's a glimpse of some color fun that happened in a recent youth art camp I taught at the TEIA on Peaks Island.

We started with color terms, creating a color wheel, and drawing a palette of 10 favorite colors.

Below: Owen's choice of colors with very original names. Color naming and branding can be very associative and personal. I like "ish."

I also gave everyone a color journal. Just for fun, and for keeping notes and sketches and anything that might strike an artist's fancy about color.

The location, right by the shore, can't be beat.

Shade is good on a summer day, and the setting provided ample inspiration. Some drew the nearby trees. Fan-Tai drew the rocks and old pilings.

On the second day, we had a color scavenger hunt: find 6 colors and draw them. We sorted the drawings by color when we were done.

Red is my favorite, from bicycles to signage, flowers to kayaks.

Orange you glad?

Then we drew a still life, drawing on the porch with gentle sea breezes.

Here is Calee's bold pastel:

Her sister Teagan did two drawings with different color schemes, cool and warm:

Virginia, a most awesome art intern, tried warm pastels on warm paper, perfect for a sunny day.

The youngest camper, Caroline, was eager to draw everything. She drew fire, and it matches her headband! Her passion colors her world.

She was happy to be a model the next day, when we drew each other. Caroline brought colorful scarves and fancy shoes for posing.

Here's my quick sketch of Virginia, who is bound to be famous on the stage someday. Very soon.

And my sketch of Teagan:

We mounted an impromptu show of the drawings.

I was impressed by the engagement and positive attitude of this class. Many thanks to Chris Harper Fahey and the TEIA, for allowing us to create our worlds of color on paper!

one world

2011-07-09T14:38:00.002-04:00

On the seventh day of the seventh month, my busy tour of bookish events around Seven Days of Daisy began at the Graves Memorial Library in Kennebunkport. Quite auspiciously, too, since I was there over four years ago on a visit with Mitali Perkins and Rickshaw Girl. Nice to start with familiar faces!

In keeping with the summer reading program of One World, Many Voices, I gave a presentation first to a book group of girls who had just read Rickshaw Girl. I showed images from my childhood, my early career as an illustrator, and then sketches and referencing in the making of illustrations for the book. Process is always a good topic, because people are generally curious about the back story. I had to travel in my imagination to be in Bangladesh, and I did that with many visits to my island library, as well as listening to music, eating Indian food, and watching films set in Bangladesh.

That book has led to plenty of other assignments in the same area of the world. I showed this illustration, done for Cricket Magazine, since henna designs are relevant to the alpana designs in Rickshaw Girl. This piece is currently on view in Tell Me a Story: Folktales and World Cultures at the University of Southern Maine's Atrium Art Gallery at Lewiston-Auburn College, through August 12.

And most recently, I worked on illustrations for a curriculum activity for Saraswati's Way by Monika Schroder. Here's my drawing of the goddess of learning and knowledge, Saraswati.

Calling attention to the strong decorative patterns running through these cultures and my illustrations, I invited the group to draw with my colored pencils and pastels. Stand back!

These can be like doodles or radial designs that begin in the center, and expand outward. Or, some decided to draw an imaginary scene, anything that shines with color.

This artist was the last to leave. She needed to get her color all over the page. And maybe a little on herself! Her drawing has a bold palette and strong composition. Hooray!

Another artist decided to make use of patterns. Love all the striped petals here.

The book group cleared out and made way for another round of younger kids who heard my story of the making of Seven Days of Daisy. After reading the book, they got busy creating their own summer story.

This girl was very excited about an upcoming sleepover:

Every day of the week, something cool happens to this girl:

Many thanks to the Graves Memorial Library for a fun exchange of stories and art!

I made it back to the island in time to gather some pieces for the Color of Peaks show at the TEIA, the island sailing and tennis organization down the hill. The "club" as it's known, makes an appearance in Seven Days of Daisy.

It's the large white boathouse that hangs out over the water in the background above. I walk by it every day on my way to the beach with the dog.

"Dusky Diamond View," below, is one of the pastels in the show.

Next week I'll be teaching a Drawing with Color workshop to young artists at the TEIA for three days
followed by a flurry of book visits.

On Thursday, July 14 at 2 PM, I'll be at the Skowhegan Public Library.
The next morning, July 15 at 10:30, I'll be at the Bristol Area Library.

And on Saturday, July 16 I'll be at Bayswater Books in Center Harbor, NH from 11 AM - 1 PM.

Whew! Have pencils, will travel!

nostalgia trip

2011-07-06T08:29:00.002-04:00

We walk through doorways all the time, but some close behind us for good. Last week my sister and I attended the closing on my parents' retirement home. Not where we grew up, but still about 3 decades of memories. It's a mixed passage, with melancholy and finality.

Fortunately, I could make a nostalgia trip to where I DID grow up: the Red Doors Motel. My parents built an 18 unit motel in 1956 when my sister was a baby. This postcard is circa 1970.

Several owners later, changes have been made. It's now the Rodeway Inn, but the doors are still red.

What really brought me back: the pool. The diving board is gone, scene of many adolescent antics, and a few scars. But the ripple effect remains.

It was good to have it completely to myself, to swim through the most blue and fluid chapters of time.

At art school, I discovered an attraction to painter David Hockney, whose pool motifs rang a bell.

In the third assignment for Get Your Paint On, I tried to be less representational, push my boundaries, and play with matching paint colors. Is it any wonder I tried to match a red door?

Although I feel an indelible void, I draw comfort in knowing I can go on a nostalgia trip whenever I need to.

Meanwhile, lots to do. I embark on the first of my library visits tomorrow for Seven Days of Daisy.
I'll be at the Graves Memorial Library in Kennebunkport to read and invite anyone to find their 7 favorite things about summer.

I was thrilled to spot my book next to a favorite Maine classic, "Blueberries for Sal" in the window at my local bookstore!

get your paint on

2011-06-27T10:10:00.001-04:00

Even though my summer is pretty booked, I could NOT resist the opportunity to join the summer e-course, Get Your Paint On.

I'm a major fan of both Lisa and Mati, and Mati is my second cousin, so I enjoy supporting and following anything she's up to. They're both out in San Franscisco, and it's fun to see their faces each week onscreen. I sketched Lisa while she talked.

This is my first e-course and I'm LOVIN it. There is a positive dynamic, so much to look at, links, and inspirations.

I figured Id dig out my gouache from some neglected bin. I once worked exclusively in gouache early in my career. This was a promo piece from way back. I often relate former days of waitressing to illustrating: serve the customer HOT stuff.

The first assignment was to play with our materials using a Gee's Bend quilt as a jumping off point.
We could reference any one of these, or not.

I've always had a thing for quilts. Not that there were any quilters in my family. Maybe that was the attraction, to something handmade from another era. Quilts are like collages, pieced together and repurposed with love.

As I rooted around for my paints, I came across an unexpected find, an old photo of my Auntie Eleanor. She was a big influence on me, and I miss her still. I also got out a book from an exhibit of quilts I saw in Oakland, CA, back when I lived in SF.

I painted first a gradated background which, now that I see it, resembles a soft seascape.
Here's the final piece, with some scraps of wrapping paper, Eleanor at the center, and a stenciled area of dots.

I titled it "heirloom" because I realized many connections woven into my life, treasured threads I've inherited that keep me whole. It was fun to paint again, too. Everyone posts their work on a flickr site, and can make supportive or "pushing" feedback. It's very cool to see the range of work, be part of a community playing with paint, multiplied by all the talents of the participants.

I went right on to the second assignment, which involved choosing a painter that inspires us, and making something influenced by that inspiration. I chose Fairfield Porter, a painter I came across after moving to Maine. I discovered his work via this book jacket.

I identified with the old white cape, the black and white dog in the shadow. We saw a fantastic exhibit of his work at Colby College a couple of years later and I became a fan. He painted in the 40's and 50's, summered in Maine, and his work has lovely observed details combined with flatness.

Here's my woeful attempt at capturing our old white cape, and our black and white dog in the shade.

This painting was a lot less fun for me, because I probably tackled too much in too short a time. I've been working in dry media, mostly pastel, which is much more direct. Mixing paint and waiting for it to dry are aspects that slow down the process. Often this is a good thing, but in this case, it gave me more time to find fault with the painting. The best thing I'll say is that it is done.

Today I'm back at the drawing board on my project for Portland Stage Company. And, checking in to the GYPO course and see what's up for this week!

Thanks to Lisa and Mati for getting me outta my comfort zone!

happy feet

2011-06-24T15:19:00.000-04:00

I am excited! My illustration for the Wellness column by Genevieve Morgan appears in the July issue of Maine Magazine.

I just worked on another one for the same column. Love, love that mag. It shows Maine at it's best!

swingin saturday book launch

2011-06-20T22:01:00.001-04:00

Saturday finally came. There was no Nana in sight, but her spirit was very present for the beach party book launch of Seven Days of Daisy.

My event planning heroine very thoughtfully brought proper signage, and this one

hit a chord.

My mum, aka Nana, passed away in April. She was my biggest fan and supporter, and loved visiting the island. This sign got firmly planted next to my seat.

The lovely captain of Curious City, Kirsten Cappy, brought along dotty decorations.

We rigged up tents, some tables, and Eddie Walsh carried down a little boat for pretending, just like in the story. Even big kids couldn't resist sharing some tidepool tea.

It was an honor when other authors arrived. They appreciate what a big deal it is to have a story published. Sarah and daughter share some playtime by the shore.

The clouds came and went, ferries docked and departed, and the sun sallied with the rising tide.
Watermelon was a big draw.

Island neighbor and colleague, Anne Sibley O'Brien, arrived in a matching shirt.

Even Daisy, the narrator of the story, made a cameo appearance.

She and her friend, Imogen, also recreated the tea party scene from the book.

It wasn't until kids were clamoring to be in the boat that I realized what a metaphor we had on our hands. A wee boat can carry a launch loaded with cosmic freight.

I made a bunch of blank books for kids to create their own story about 7 days or 7 favorite summer things.

We've all got a good story in us. Susan, who appears in the book spitting watermelon seeds, brought her creation.

Her book is an ode to the fleeting cycles of life. Six Drops of Poppy is literally a collaged memoir of
fallen poppy leaves, pressed into a sequence of sublime serenity. No words. Just a witnessing of the passing of bright blooms.

Looking and noticing is what makes life a performance. We gave away little magnifying glasses, the better to see magical details with. This illustration opens the book. It says, LOOK!

Here's a curious boy.

Simone and Willow use their magnifying glasses to compare bug bites.

A mom is ready to cast off with her little deckhand.

First, better look for monsters on the horizon.

There were even some book sales, and signings.

It all was as fleeting as a summer day.

Below is Deb, the sales volunteer from Take a Peak, as she ponders the ripple effect. Thanks to Take a Peak for donating 50% of sales during the launch event to the Friends of the Peaks Island Library.

Take a Peak will be donating 20% of sales of Seven Days of Daisy all summer! My island community makes me proud.

I am grateful to so many for bringing this little story to a bigger audience: Kirsten Cappy, Eleanor Morse, DownEast, and my family that inspires me daily!

friday is ferry day

2011-06-17T13:05:00.002-04:00

I'm marking the days to tomorrow's book launch with feverish anticipation. I helped Rose Ann dress the window at Take a Peak this morning. Cute.

Most people don't know that I worked on the interior design of this little shop next to Down Front,
the island's ice cream store and summer magnet spot. I illustrated a Queen Anne's lace for the logo, and staffed the store sometimes during the first summer it was open. I hand painted a children's table and chairs for display.
Look, now it has Seven Days of Daisy in the mix!

I've sent Marty to town for watermelon. There will be a seed spitting session tomorrow, no doubt.

You can spot an islander by these humble little carts, the workhorses that haul our lives back and forth.

The ferry is a significant feature of island living, one that is some days a blessing, other days a curse.

I made this pastel "Sweet Departure" after one summer of too many guests. The best part is watching a ferry leave and you can just go home and flop in the hammock.

Many people have come and gone from island living, and the ferry is probably one factor. It's a trusty and lovely way to commute, the deckhands are the BEST, but it's catching that boat that can make or break you.

Here's a shot of nostalgia, from the former Peaks Island Mercantile Calendar, a photograph by my neighbor, Dave Stankowitz. He knows a good visual pun when he sees one.

Of the 20 mommies and babies here, 6 are still living on Peaks. Four of the babies here are in Seven Days of Daisy. Can you guess who?

I happen to love the ferry, even the thrill of catching one. Of course, I grumbled last week when I left my cart on the morning boat to town, and only realized it as I opened the back to unload groceries in the ferry garage. It was safely waiting in the freight shed to be reclaimed (love) but there wasn't quite enough time to unload my grocs (hate) and make the boat. I stupidly fumed about my witless blunder for an hour til the next one. And then the view made me forget all about it.

I have featured both Peaks and some vintage tickets in collage cards, odes to my adoration.

It's a lovely trip, only 15 minutes or so, about equal to the time I once spent finding a parking spot when I lived in San Francisco. But Casco Bay Lines always guarantees a good view, salty friends, and fresh air.

The weather tomorrow may not be as divine as today. But as Nancy 3 Hoffman of the Umbrella Cover Museum sings, "Let a smile be your umbrella."

Only one day to the book launch!
Curious City will help make it shine, with or without the sun.

Thursday is for thinking

2011-06-16T22:08:00.000-04:00

It's been a big day, this particular Thursday. It was eighth grade graduation day. Whew. How did this happen so fast? Makes those long ago days of plush piggies and swinging in the hammock feel like another eon.

These days DO add up, very sweetly.

Congratulations, Daisy, and all the bright students at King Middle School!

Wednesday is for walking

2011-06-15T22:00:00.000-04:00

In Seven Days of Daisy, Wednesday is about walking ALL the way to Whaleback.

For a young child, sometimes walking even a little ways is like a safari. Soooo long, soooo slow, and full of either obstacles or wonderment. After all kinds of strolling and carrying devices, walking very far is a stretch for the average American 4 year-old. Having a dog along makes for good company. And taking notice of just about every little thing.

This morning I walked out to Whaleback, a rocky ledge that juts out on the ocean side of Peaks Island.

The sun was finally out. Daisies are in bloom above, and a dad and his son were already exploring the spot.

The back shore offers plenty of opportunities to sit or climb, walk or bike. The thing that sets Peaks apart from many other islands is the public access to the shore. Properties are on the other side of the road.

Whaleback has a different shape now. During some recent storm, a big hunk got knocked off the top.

You can see it lying in the middle of this photo.

This is a place perfect for examining rocks, tide pools, getting splashed by waves, and viewing cormorants conversing. When you climb out to the very tip, you can almost feel apart from the land.

In the book, Daisy makes up a story about a whale named Wink. I've had whales on my mind lately.

I'll be illustrating a book Here Come the Humpbacks for Charlesbridge next. Hooray!

Funny how my radar convenes a pile of references immediately.

Certain things showed up awhile before, like a postcard from my sister-in-law of a humpback whale, and a lovely sequined and squeezable whale by MECA student Michelle Cooney. This is Amamasu, her Japanese whale of fabled lore.

And then there's my neighbor Gerry's weathervane that overlooks our house.

Even driftwood can look like a whale. Check out this cottage sign painted by Marty.

While whales can carry us to deep places, making up stories is a magical and necessary thing.

I'm honored to be in an exhibit at University of Southern Maine's Lewiston-Auburn College, "Tell Me a Story: Folkstales and World Cultures" opens this Friday evening. The Atrium Gallery has gathered works from 13 Maine children's book illustrators including the venerable Ashley Bryant, the stellar Melissa Sweet, and my amazing neighbor, Anne Sibley O'Brien, among others. It will be on view from June 17 - August 12.

Meanwhile, the countdown continues. Three days to my book launch. I'm getting nervous now.

I'm not really an extrovert! Hoping for sunshine, and maybe a friendly whale or two.

tuesday is for tidepools

2011-06-14T21:10:00.000-04:00

In Seven Days of Daisy, Tuesday involves a tea party with seaweed soup and jellyfish sandwiches.

Yum! Today, however, was not really a beach day. Still cloudy and damp. But, I learned the Peaks Island Elementary School spent the day at the beach. Island kids are impervious to the frigid waters.

Jump in, they do. Move over, urchins.

A few years ago, I helped coordinate art by island school students on a book bag, a fundraiser for the PTO. I love the sun with sunglasses by James Mitchell, and the ferry fairy by Imogen Moxhay.

Kids here learn respect for tide pools and the creatures within.

The illustration which appears in the book features a yellow boat. In fact, there is a yellow boat that
is often seen on the beach. I have drawn it many, many times. I did this pastel awhile back of that boat.

This afternoon when I walked the beach, I thought about Daisy's rope collection. We are thingfinders at the beach, like Pippi Longstocking. Rarely do I leave the low tide without a bit of flotsam or jetsam. Found this cheerful bobber and rope entwined with seaweed that begged to be brought home for closer inspection and admiration.

I sure hope the sun comes back. Four days left til the book launch !

I don't care if Monday's blue

2011-06-13T20:38:00.001-04:00

I spontaneously made these "day cards" to spell out the days of the week. For the book launch on Saturday, I want to randomly deal out the days to kids and see if they can line up in order. A little body action is always good. Gave myself the challenge to try to post every day this week. I confess, I'm not that much of a blogger. The whole enterprise is something I need to mull over, and I'd stutter if I had to tweet.

And here it is, Monday already. In Seven Days of Daisy, there are monsters in kayaks spied near Catnip Island, and wishing on the moon.

Today, too much cloud cover for sightings of monsters or moons. In fact, it felt rather blue, and my

goal to visit bookstores (to spy on my book whereabouts...) felt a little lame. Still, I took the ferry and stopped at Longfellow Books, a dandy place for finding a good Father's Day gift. Can't say what I bought. But it's gonna be a gooood read. I gladly signed their stock of Seven Days.

Next stop: Nonesuch Books, where the magazine selection knows no bounds, and the store is piled with all categories. Dutifully left my book launch postcards.

After a few other stops, I made a blast to Portsmouth to the Manporium, newly opened by my gal pal, Jody, and her macho man, Earle. Man up! Found some seriously manly items for the Dad in the house.

On the blast back, two auspicious things: a car passed me, with license plate: 7Seven7. A good sign?

And then a favorite Cure song came on the radio and it totally made my day.

It got better when I got home to the island. Good feedback on my sketches for Portland Stage Company. I'm working on "Marie Antoinette: Color of Flesh." I sent a record number of rough sketches. Fourteen. Sorry, sevens and multiples of sevens are stuck on my brain.

Here's one of I hope they pick:

Hey, Monday is not so blue after all.

Only 5 days to the book launch.

counting the days

2011-06-12T16:50:00.000-04:00

In Seven Days of Daisy, Sunday is for sailing, snacking on apples, and seeing silly shapes in the clouds. Today though, it's a cloudy day on the island, and it's actually better for sleeping late.

But sooner or later, the dog must go out. We head to the beach. Lo and behold, somebody IS out sailing. Like a true Mainer.

I notice a few shells good for scavenging by seagulls.

Then it's time to sort through photos from last night's Shakespeare play.

Our neighbor's daughter, Olwyn, designed the program and also played Hamlet with marvelous energy and pathos.

Portland High's Shakespeare Club is largely female, and several actors played multiple roles. Here
Leartes is played handily by Acy Jackson opposite Ophelia, played brilliantly by Devon Miller.

Bravo to Peter Brown, intrepid director, for bringing out the best in these amazing actors.

Before I go saunter out on another dog walk, I'm working on a sticker design.

Gotta put something on my bookish loot. I'll be giving away little magnifying glasses at my book launch this Saturday. Only 6 days to go!

big on trees

2011-06-10T15:08:00.002-04:00

I have a thing for trees. There was one in the back yard I could climb as a child because it was right next to a huge rock. In one of my favorite books, The Magic of Trees, Deena Metzger wrote this poem:

It seems

the story of my life

is the story of trees I've loved,

some were standing, some fell down.

I was honored to be commissioned by the Peaks Island PTO to create a pastel for Kathy Newell, an island girl and artisan retiring from the school staff after 25 years. And she's a tree lover! I was asked to capture her favorite tree, just outside the school yard, one that turns red before all the others.

I had not noticed it before (too early to show it's colors) but now I have a new relationship with it. And my daughter, also an alum of the Peaks Island Elementary School, made sure I included the lighthouse hopscotch, a memorable feature, since Kathy painted it!

Trees have long held symbolic powers for me. I made a series of handset type posters back in art school and recently came across this vintage copy.

The tree was at the end of a road, and it's shape fascinated me. I made a photo silkscreen from my photo, which I printed in a darkroom (those were the days) and then ran the type through the press. The quote is from an Ernest Hemingway book I was reading at the time.

Later when I was a young freelancer in Boston, I drew this birch girl for STUFF magazine. Be the tree.

Once I moved to Maine, I noticed all kinds of magical trees. This one's down by the beach, and I call it "Buddha Tree." So gnarly, so wise.

This one is our solstice tree. In memory of our first daughter, we light it every winter.

Another favorite tree sits on a bluff facing the Diamond Islands. This is "Soft Morning."

Happily, our tree love is contagious. Our daughter, Daisy, did this piece a few years ago.

Yes, the same Daisy I wrote a book about. Now published by DownEast. In this scene from the story, it is Thursday, good for thinking.

Our rope hammock fell apart a few years ago. We finally realized we needed to loll about again.

A new one arrived the other day. Ahhhhh. Some things don't change.

But there's no rest for the bookish. I'm back to making blank booklets for my book launch party on June 18.

When we draw and write, we heighten our awareness. I want everyone to write and draw about seven things: places on the island, summer moments, or perhaps the trees you have loved!

calendars count

2011-06-04T10:09:00.001-04:00

A calendar plays a main role in my book, Seven Days of Daisy, and for good reason. Calendars count, helping us to mark the slippery passage of time. The idea of life cycles from my previous post blurred into this one. With both parents now gone, I'm sifting through dusty boxes of family history. I came across this calendar, thick and small, and suddenly a notation shows up:

In my grandmother's handwriting, she notes: "William Franklin born. 9:43 AM 8 lbs." I didn't know my grandmother very well, but here is something that tangibly connects us, the momentous event of my father's birth. And time and weight, which feel so incredibly important to a mother at the time, yet a detail that generally falls by the wayside.

Fastforward 20 years, and here is another calendar:

In 1945, my father was in the service and my grandmother made note "wrote Wm" on a daily basis.
That these calendars from decades ago were filled with records of everyday detail and saved is a revelation. It tells me they lived a life worth noting and conserving. My grandfather, Roland Hogan, was also an artist, draftsman, and photographer. His tidy photo albums inspire me no end. Just came across this aptly labeled shot:

My Aunt Eleanor sits in the foreground, with my father at the bow. I find an unintended parallel in this scene from Seven Days of Daisy:

As I prepare to launch the book, I count seven incarnations of this story.

The top 3 are variations of thumbnail dummies done in the Picture Book Intensive at Maine College of Art in 2002. Next is the faded color dummy that made the rounds to 10 publishers in 2003 and 2004.
The next two are soft-cover editions of self-published copies from 2009. The large one at the bottom right is the new hardcover edition now released by DownEast.

Some things take a while! I check my calendar and see that my book launch is two weeks away!

Recently at the delicious El Rayo, the dishy Kirsten Cappy and I went over our event plan, with her trusty calendar on her phone.

The vibrant colors there go well with my book, and we enjoyed their signature spicy lobster wrap to usher in the summer.

Pretty please, mark your calendars for June 18. Join me on the beach at PeaksFest or at a library later on in July. I'll also be at the Maine Lighthouse Museum on July 23 in Rockland.

Make every Maine summer day count!

life cycles

2011-06-03T10:37:00.001-04:00

I was honored when ELL teacher Marcia Salem asked me to visit her class at King Middle School. As my daughter winds down her eighth grade experience at "the best middle school in Maine" I love that place more and more. Ms. Salem's students, who hail from Somalia, Kenya, Burundi and beyond, have studied life cycles of plants and animals. I worked with them to create books about their learning.

I made a little comp to show what we might do, using a small drawing of a frog my daughter did awhile back. A circular format seemed to fit the bill.

During our first session, design choices were made. What color paper? How many sheets? How much
information and drawing to fit the layout? Students used plates or cardboard templates to trace circles.

This is trickier than it looks, including cutting the circles. But voila! Circles abound, and now students decide what goes where.

They began drawing and writing, based on a rough draft done earlier.

Having a plan is important! I also showed students sketches and preliminary studies that I typically do for any illustration project. There is a process for everything. Paper, glue sticks, and pens were flying.

At last, the circles were filled with learning, some rubber stamping, and plenty of personality. Some of these are not quite complete, but the brad fasteners have been installed, and the final touches will happen.

Life cycles of ladybugs, corn, butterflies, hummingbirds, frogs, and horses are contained in full circle, vehicles of knowledge and enthusiasm. It was a blast to work with such a spirited group of learners.

I was treated to hearty smiles and a lovely drawing from Farhi, who noticed I like polka dots.

Nothing beats being with kids who love school, animals, drawing, and creating. Thank you:
Abdirashid, Farhi O. G., Muse, Kaled, Nasteho, Omar, Hawa, Fariyod, Vanessa, Abdifatah, Ahmed, Anas, Billy, Nestorina, and Ms. Salem! You make me smile.

the circuit

2011-05-27T15:29:00.000-04:00

Here I am, on a dusty shortcut somewhere south of Paradise, California, circa 1990. When we lived in San Francisco, we rode all over the state. I recall riding past miles and miles of rows and rows of crops, dotted with the curved backs of pickers. Those scenes came back to me when I worked on a recent assignment for Cricket Magazine.

Francisco Jimenez wrote The Circuit, a memoir of his childhood as an immigrant from Tlaquepaque, Mexico working alongside his family in the fields of California. The power of his vivid writing pulled me in, and I saw those golden suede hills and felt the dusty heat all over again. His experience was hard, long days and always moving with the crops.

For the opening illustration, I drew the family car, the Carcachita, an old Plymouth. They leave at dawn for the next job.

In this scene, he collapses in the heat.

When the picking season is over, he can go to school. He meets a kind teacher, Mr. Lema, who introduces him to the trumpet.

The sound gives him goosebumps. He's eager to learn to play, but upon returning home finds the family's belongings all packed, again.

Francisco Jiminez went on to become a university professor and a writer for children. Illustrating this story gave me a chance to step inside that world, and get the same goosebumps.

moon energy

2011-05-17T08:10:00.002-04:00

With this week's stretch of rain, there will be no full moon viewing tonight. I may not see it, but I can still feel it.

I've just done this for next year's Lunar Calendar. It will run in black and white, so I used
a limited palette for the original drawing, titled "Full Sap Moon."

Events keep coming at a steady clip, and I need all the sap to rise up and keep me grounded. New things are sprouting!

critters

2011-05-10T21:43:00.002-04:00

There's an amazing show of infinite delight at the UNE Art Gallery called "Critters." Having just delivered all the art for a picture book about animals affected by climate changes, I was keen to see animal art. The show is swarming with sculpture inside and out; there's a dizzying amount to take in. There are well-known artists like William Wegman, Bernard Langlais, Dahlov Ipcar, and even a couple of artists I was surprised to find, like former colleague Joe Begnaud, and fellow pastel artist Wade Zahares.

Certain creatures called to me, like this school of ceramic fish by Sharon Townshend that swam up the gallery wall.

I recently did this illustration below for Charlesbridge, and could relate to the pull of the stream. I brought in my own thermometer to gauge the pastel water temperature: chill.

I enjoyed this sculpture by Clare Cohan. We should all take a slow ride, and pay attention.

Could this be a loggerback, like the one I drew below? Here's a detail from my illustration.

I often find odd coincidences in my roamings. This white whale by Don Gove.....

made me think of senior illustration major, Seumas Doherty, who I've spent the past semester meeting with weekly. His independent study project involves concept art for a game titled Moby Dick: A Space Odyssey. He spent his last semester of art school illustrating character designs, costumes, hardware, and scenes.

Here's Seumas in front of one end of his thesis display in the halls of Maine College of Art.
If you are in need of stalwart diligence and creative design, he's your captain.

There was another whale reference in the UNE exhibit, so tiny one might miss it. My whale radar is exceedingly strong, though. Look, a paper moth of incredible delicacy by Cat Schwenk.

Whales are mythic in my imagination. I drew Daisy riding a whale named Wink in Seven Days of Daisy:

Is it coincidence that a picture book manuscript about humpback whales has just floated my way? I think not.

The day after seeing this show, I met another senior illustration major, Elise Smorczewski, to review her thesis project, Strange and Endangered. Since meeting Elise sophomore year, I've learned quite a bit through her devotion to the odd critters of the world.

Elise covered many bases with her body of work: she made oil paintings, and sewed handbags with fabric printed from the paintings and paired with information about each species. She made a website, stickers, and a street campaign of posters and flyers that promote awareness. Did you know there's a World Tapir Day? Now you do: April 27.

Elise plans to pursue more animal research in New Zealand, and wants to teach young kids about conservation.

All of us can be better informed about the critters with whom we share the planet. Any art that fosters that wonder is worthy of applause. I give a standing ovation to all the artists in "Critters", whose work uplifted me.

And to ALL the amazing illustration seniors at MECA, be proud of your creations. Graduation probably can't come fast enough, but savor the accomplishment. Bravo, ninjas.

ode to mum

2011-05-04T11:11:00.000-04:00

My mother, Jeanne Hogan, died on April 10. It has been a sad yet busy and often overwhelming time since then. Even though I had braced for this event since my father's death 14 years ago, I find I'm not really ready for this transition. But here it is. In going through her things, I came across many photographs I'd never seen, like this one from 1933, when she was 9.

I also found every card that I ever made for her; I loved making cards for my mother, for everyone. Maybe I worked at Hallmark in a past life. This one will bring me comfort this Mother's Day, my first without the need to make a card for "Mum." That's my sister, Bonnie, on the left, and me on the bottle.

My mother was a tough love kind of mother: pretty tough to please, but very loving when you did.
She appeared many times in my art over the years, even on envelopes.

I worked this same reference into an illustration assignment during college years at RISD, which had something to do with demonstrating a grasp of three point perspective, but perhaps shows quite plainly a family dynamic, with my mother at the top.

The scene above is of the pool at the motel where I grew up. Memories remain vivid of happy days there, but plenty more in the life chapters since then. In this illustration for The Plain Dealer, I tried to capture the benevolent acceptance that aging can bring. For some, anyway. My mum definitely mellowed with age, and my vision of her shaped this piece.

My relationship with my mother changed after my father died. She bounced back from that by checking herself into the hospital for a hip replacement, a sure sign of survival. She lived alone for several years, but stayed active with friends, and visiting our island.

When I wrote a story in a Picture Book Workshop at Maine College of Art back in 2002, I wanted to illustrate the various delights of an island summer. Seven Days of Daisy became a wait for Nana's visit, and in real life there was much anticipation around that.

Even though she won't make another visit, her mothering spirit must be in the air. Just days after her death, I was interviewed about the book by Ray Routhier for the Portland Press Herald.

I've lost my proudest fan, and the source of much inspiration, but her voice in my head will carry me through. Thanks, Mum, for all you gave me.

b is for book

2011-04-08T08:43:00.001-04:00

How better to spend a sunny Sunday than in the swell company of bookish folk? I did that last weekend, sharing a table at the Book Arts Bazaar at USM, with fellow artist and educator, Judy Labrasca. We became fast friends when I took her Picture Book course at Maine College of Art years ago.

The Book Arts Bazaar featured over 40 vendors with all manner of offerings: hand made paper, bookbinding, zines, comic books, art books, posters, paper sculpture, vintage ephemera...I was in heaven.

Here is Judy, setting up her beautiful wares.

She was next to Allison Villani, art teacher and maker of paper lovelies like these:

It can be awkward manning a table for a whole day. Good to have colored pencils on hand; I did this sketch of Allison to stay busy.

Judy took this photo of me, and my books and cards. Had to bring along a few tulips to remind myself that spring WILL come.

Next to me was the very prolific Michael Connor, infamous author and illustrator of the Coelacanthus series. Here he is seriously sorting his groovy oeuvre of collectibles.

There was a steady stream of book lovers browsing and buying, and the day went remarkably fast.
I did this quick profile of another artist, Svetlana Prudovskaya, who had intricate drawings and hand made books.

It was surprising how many other vendors I knew in the room: Scott Mullenberg, who crafted several portfolios for me, had a modern pile of riveting books.

These made me think of my motorcycle, and then I saw Scott Vile of Asencius Press, a former island neighbor and bike racer. The Portland bookmaking crowd is a tight one. There was dynamic Rick Lowe of Casablanca Comics, and the inimitable Crystal Cawley, whose delightful book making workshops I've taken, and who continues to inspire me. And of course, the master of book arts, Rebecca Goodale, who spun this whole event into being.

I took a quick swing around the other three rooms, marveling at the diversity of work. Spotted this,
"Imperfect Anxiety," perfectly titled by Solange Kellerman.

The order and color bursts of this display by Purplebean Bindery caught my eye.

I have a weakness for paper dresses, don't you? Nice visual pun by Libby Barrett here.

M is for moon, another of the alphabet cards I made for the day.

And for a marvelous event, that proves the book arts are alive and kickin' in Maine.

In other bookish news, I just found out from author Susan Blackaby that Nest, Nook & Cranny is
included in the 2011 edition of the Bank Street College Best Children's
Books of the Year! Great news, and just in time for Poetry Month.

Now I'm off to Charlesbridge Publishing, to deliver the final art for my latest book project.
Stay tuned on that front.

sketchbook project comes to town

2011-04-01T18:37:00.002-04:00

At last, the traveling road show known as the Sketchbook Project is in town for a speed date with Portland. Since the venue is right down the street from MECA, it made for a relevant field trip for my illustration class.

Since parting with my sketchbook back in January, I've been wondering how the whole thing works.
10,000 sketchbooks? How does that happen? We lined up for a Brooklyn Art Library card, then you choose from a huge category of themes, your card is scanned, and a friendly person finds 2 sketchbooks for you to look at.

And there are a ton of sketchbooks.

My students were to look, and also sketch in their own sketchbooks. Hannah, below, was happy to be reunited with her sketchbook.

Not all artists have the practice of keeping a sketchbook. That is, having one on hand at all times for sketching ideas or visions on the fly. My habit has been to work in a large sketchbook, not very portable, that is also a receptacle of clippings, references, tickets, patterns, whatever sparks me.

Doing the Sketchbook Project with the small Moleskin they supply turned into a revelation. It took awhile to break the ice with the first page, but after that, I just drew, and had it in my bag everywhere I went.

Here is Linda, development director for SPACE, looking at my sketchbook.

It turned out I have a lot of drawings of people drawing. Here is my daughter, sketching in the book she shared with Eda.

Once I sent off my sketchbook to the Art House, I knew I'd better get another sketchbook quick, or the impulse would wither. I had it on hand while my students were at SPACE; I drew Stephen as he drew.

The class moved on up the street where "European Drawings at the Portland Museum of Art" just went on exhibit. This show is part of a state wide collaboration of exhibitions dedicated to the medium of drawing. There are 24 shows all during 2011 as part of The Maine Drawing Project: Where to Draw the Line.

It was a great contrast to go from looking at the raw musings of anyone with a pencil all around the globe (there are sketchbooks from over 100 countries in the Sketchbook Project) to the rare showing of drawings, most over 100 years old, from the likes of Ingres and Daumier.

Again, besides looking, students are expected to sketch something. It's quite a challenge, in fact, given that we had about an hour to look, roam, and draw.

Here is Kyle's drawing.

I chose to draw from a George Grosz piece. Funny how drawing something makes you notice the line. He has an amazing ability to imply form, and what he leaves out is as important as the lines he makes.

The PMA exhibit includes this quote from Renoir: "I never let a day go by without sketching something, even if it's only an apple on the page of a notebook. You lose the knack so quickly."

So true!

Later, I reconvened at SPACE with my family, also eager to see the sketchbooks. I owe my participation to Mary Anne, vivacious cohort and mother of another sketcher, Eda.

Here's M.A. checking out her own title, "If You Lived Here," in which she did amazing still lifes around her colorful house.

She also talked my neighbor, Nancy, into doing the project. Here is a spread from hers, with lovely collages inspired by log cabin quilts.

And then Mary Anne got a sketchbook for our daughters, who wanted in on the fun. Eda and Daisy, known as Some Kids at King, swapped their book, "It's Raining Cats and Dogs" back and forth at school.

Daisy did her last page while at Eda's house back in January, with the thought of catching a ferry back home on her mind.

We came across a slew of cool sketchbooks. This one was a favorite, in which the entire book was cut out and etched with text, by Georgina Cook.

I knew a former student had done a book. Here is Jessica Shea's:

I also found a fun book drawn by Mike Sgier, full of characters for a potential graphic novel. And another book by Seth Fitts about scavengers was a big hit with our crowd. The coolest thing was finding sketchbooks from another world. We all loved this one, by Zoltan Kalaszi, from the category "In 5 Minutes" and it instantly took us to the streets of Istanbul.

It's a truly marvelous thing, to be connected across so much space and time, by the immediacy of drawing, an act that allows us to make sense of our world and dreams.

The Sketchbook Project is only in Portland for another 2 days. Get thee to SPACE!

Even better, get yourself a sketchbook. There are more projects to join.

collegial connections

2011-03-28T12:30:00.002-04:00

We blasted to Danielson, CT last week to see our work in "12 New England Illustrators" at Quinebaug Valley Community College. The show was curated by Annie Gusman Joly, a fellow illustrator, educator, and colleague from many years ago at the Art Institute of Boston.

She's been a source of inspiration for decades, with her style, flair for color, and teaching experience.

It was fun to see what's in the works in her studio in nearby Putnam.

The show includes illustrators working in very different methods and markets, from oils to scratchboard, and books to beer labels.

Here's my better half, Marty, with his wall of wonders.

Below is Dave Joly, Annie's husband, who helped install the show and is an adjunct at QVCC. He's no doubt telling a smart anecdote about the classroom, to Laura Tedeschi and Rick Schneider, also in the exhibit. They are in front of a scratchboard illustration by Doug Smith, fellow Peaks Islander.

Doug wanted to include versions of his sketches along with the final piece. Good for viewers to see that many unseen choices go into published works. Here's a close-up.

We had our own private showing, as the gallery is not open on weekends, when several of us were able to convene. Love this shot of Laura having a good laugh.

It was great to see some faces that go all the way back to college and my early days in the illustration field, when I regularly went to Boston area meetings of the Graphic Artists Guild. Alan Witschonke and James Steinberg, you're looking good!

The show remains up til March 31. Here are works by the inimitable James.

And here he is with Annie at 85 Main, where we reconvened for lunch.

I was sorry not to meet all the fine folks in the show: Doug Andersen, whose magical realism blew me away, or Cora Lynn Diebler, whose work is so lively! I really liked the paintings of Anthony Foronda, quite cool. And would have loved to meet other educators, like Bill Thomson and Dennis Nolan, who possess amazing techniques.

The illustration field has taken a beating over the last decade. We veterans have seen the stat camera hit the dust, and technology allow us to work in our pajamas. It was gratifying to share some fellowship with an amazing pool of talent and wisdom.

Bravo, Annie, for bringing together a group of illustrators connected by the classroom, the field, and our diversity of tools.