WALKING THROUGH A STORY

I have often wondered why I tell stories. Are they lies like I used to tell to make my real world live up to the standards of the world I thought everyone else had? Growing up in the Catholic church, and being forever guilt ridden, I thought that might be the answer. But, lately, what I think it is, is a chance to expand my very small world into the "what if" world....a world full of possibilities. A chance to leave the competetive (well, now you know something about me) world of publishing where we try to write what will sell, in order to write the stories we are passionate about. We need to do that in order to get them out of our heads to make room for new stories.

The image on the left is called Seal Moon. I have an ivory pendant carved with a Moon's face and framed with silver. The moon and I are good friends, and you will often find me on the porch during the fuller phases of the moon till way too late at night...or not, depending on the month and the season. To me the moon calms things, makes our days slow down to night, and I need that. I miss her when she is gone, just like the seal who fell in love with her and climbed out onto the ice to become a the first man. He found out she left each day, so he lit a seal oil lamp inside of an ice hut so she could find her way back each night. But in my story Moon is curious as well. She wants to know what is under the hole in the ice. No matter how far away she may seem, she still wants to know what is grounded, under the ocean and bound to real life.

When I first drew this picture I didn't think there was a story, then I realized I wanted to take a journey...follow a path through my imagination to a place I love to go but am afraid will get criticized. I did not want anyone to think I took this story from any Alaskan groups I have worked with, but ignoring the influence of hearing Yup'ik stories is like ignoring my love for Rie Munoz's art. It is the place my imagination took flight.

I like creation stories, as you know from THERE WAS AN OLD MAN WHO PAINTED THE SKY, so I decided this would be where the first man came from. I like having the freedom to play with possibilities and my own folklore, and as a writer and artist, I feel fortunate at times to get a glimpse of my own landscape. It goes from my "real" life here to a life full of possibilities and without limitation.

Last night I officially joined The Sebastopol Gallery. a group of 12 Sonoma County fine artists. I am grateful that this is part of my path, as well as book illustration and writing. It gives me a chance to be part of 12 other fine artists who create with many different "ingredients"...fabric, silver, gold, clay. My own art has already gone through a small transformation after being part of 11 other artists. I can't give you any rational reason for joining, just that it was the next step on my own path through my own story, maybe like the Moon wanting to see what was beneath the ice. I can put stories on a wall as well as in a book. I can create my own folklore...or landscapes without trying to fit them into a book package when I need to. I am grateful to the group for voting me in last night. And I am grateful to publishers who still keep me illustrating stories that fit the book package.

Someone quite smart said we only need to see 200 feet ahead of us while we are driving. I know from walking at night at a slower pace that we only need to see about ten feet. So whether walking through a story, or through life, we only need to head the direction we want to go for a short distance and then our headlights will show us where to go next.