lovey dovey loot

O how I love this day. It's full of all of my favorite things: paper hearts, doilies, pink icing, and a swelling love for everyone. I should be working, but I can't seem to pull away from the glue sticks and scissors. I've been making valentines galore. Here's a few.

First, for my man. Vroom vroom valentine.
Our romance began with letters.

Next, for my sweet daughter of moonlight and magic.

I also send love to those I am fortunate to work with. Like the hotties at Curious City, who unlock the mysteries of literacy.

 Like the Maine Magazine. Groovy folks there.

I'll have some illustrations in an upcoming book from Storey Publishing. Hooray for Casting On!

Yes, yes, only one more whale illustration for Charlesbridge!

 

You'll notice a recurring element here, the above urchin was part of the endpapers in Nest, Nook, and Cranny. 

The above went out to my fellow colleague in the MECA trenches who spends a large part of his time at Strange Maine, not to be confused with IL 206.

This valentine is for Kim, designer friend who keeps my soul singing.

And this goes out to all you hotties, you know who you are....feel free to share this handy message.

I've made a ton of valentines, not as many as last year. So little time! But the more you give, the more you receive. Lovey dovey loot is priceless.

 

 It's a glorious day when the love signs can be found on the beach.

And then the neighbor brings over a plate of love. Shall I be trusted with this? Can I sneak one or two before my valentines return? Pretty please?

The window at the Gem Gallery says it all.

You better find somebody to love. Happy Valentines Day!

warming up

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!

sacred and profane

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!

moto Maine

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!

happy feet

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!