connections on the book trail

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!

swingin saturday book launch

 

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!

counting the days

 

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

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!