For those of you have joined my blog after August and watching Julie and Julia, you will know that it has only occured to me in the last few months that blogging is just another form of writing, and I am a writer. At first, a year or so ago, it seemed like foreign territory. I was a picture book writer, not a blogger for an invisible audience of adults.
But a couple of weeks ago I went to a local SCBWI event and listened to Annie Fox speak. One of her main messages in a talk that was so informative about use of the internet..the tweet, the blog, the fan clubs, etc, was that we shouldn't separate one type of writing from another.
I'm still thinking about this, with full knowledge that I am the first to put a label on myself for the sake of having some kind of identity. So, when I started a novel a year or more (I'm sure) ago, I felt my heart beat faster and some kind of grade school mentality creep in that said, "You can't do this. You are a picture book writer, not a novel writer, or a chapter book writer." The voice didn't think to say, "You're a writer, you can do this." And I have decided that if we make each change in our work a bigger step in our minds, filled with fear, our ego has a chance to say..."Wow, look at you. You are trying to write a novel!" When, in truth, I'm just writing in a different voice about a different subject.
So, something in my brain keeps saying for the sake of my ego that writing in different genres is a brave leap, instead of saying, "You're in the same house, for heaven's sake...all you have to do is go to another room and look out a different window."
If you want to know how ridiculous this can all be, I have been a book illustrator for almost 20 years, and moving into gallery art has felt like a big leap. It is just a change in packaging, and getting to know other editors (gallery owners) and other critiquers (buyers). Some of my visions come out in books, and some come out in "wall art", but they are still art, and whether they are landscapes or folk art, they still tell a story. And I think that is one of the basic goals of humans...to tell their story.
Annie's talk was a breath of fresh air in a time when we have been taught to claim our identity with a label of what we do, who we work for, and how "successful" we are. I am finding a great admiration for those who do not walk a straight line into fame, but let themselves head into different arenas, even if they feel like they might not be on a path any longer. Steve Jobs has a great talk hosted through www.ted.com, in which he speaks about how we cannot connect the dots in our life looking forward, only looking back. I think it has been, along with Annie's talk, one of the most inspiring talks I have listened to.
And, speaking of being on the path, do you remember the story of Little Red Riding Hood. She got in big trouble getting off the path. She met the wolf, picked flowers, etc....and that all gave her a great story to tell. so for those of you who have strayed off the beaten path, not pigeon-holed yourselves, I say congratulations...you have a most interesting story.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
ANOTHER REASON TO HONOR THE INNER CHILD
Last night the gallery I belong to had a reception for one of our plein air painters. He finds his fascination in local scenes, and the ever-changing light and color of landscapes everywhere. But as I get to know him I know his paintings are appealing because he is happy when he is creating them....the whole process, standing in changing weather, painting fast and by instinct after years of practice and always finding something new that he can add to the process. It is this happiness and energy that we feel when we see his work.
In a conversation last night, a supporter of the gallery said my art makes him happy because it makes him feel like a child. He also said that one of my prints from the north reminds him of Chinese art. He had lived in China when he was younger. He did not evaluate my art, just told me how it made him feel, and picked a logical reason why he liked it. I think what he could feel was that I was happy and somewhat full of childlike abandon while creating the art. There is something inside of me that believes others can share the feelings we have while creating someting when they see it.
I admire people who spend as much of their time possible doing what makes them feel full of energy. Often when we do things that make us happy, we refuse to feel like we have done any work. When I wrote one of my picture books, I kept trying to find things to improve in it because it wasn't as hard to write as some of my others. My editor finally said, "Not everything needs to be hard to be good." Somehow we have equated work and quality with sacrifice, and if things are easy, we feel we should be "working" on something harder. I would like to think that working on our own happiness is the best career we could have, and while it may take energy, it is good energy, a chidllike energy that other people can enjoy as well.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
CREATING A NEW YEAR
Well, it is not the beginning of the year anymore, and half of a month has gone by. But if I didn't get hung up on time and its problems, 2010 has been a year I have floated through so far.
Part of that is due to the Santa Clara Reading Association Conference at Asilomar, a reading conference on the beach where I was well taken care of as a speaker, and in the company of other authors, artists, librarians and teachers. There could be nothing better in my mind. Right after that was a trip to Campbell, California in the San Jose and a day at Fammatre School, a school that is proof that there are still happy schools teaching happy students. Two other authors will be coming this week...Bob San Souci, and Jeff Savage. I had such a good time speaking to the kids and recharging my own batteries of creativity.
So, while the year is off to a wonderful start, I have work to do. Starting a new year is like getting the idea for a book. For some reason, you think it will be finished by the end of the year. But the truth is I am still working on projects from three years ago...they might be done in a month or it might take all year. I am still painting in the studio, finishing a vineyard painting I started while painting outdoors several weeks ago. And I am still creating three new stories...all of which I can only hope I will "finish".
January is a time of relaxation and expectancy, and when our mind is cleared of the obligation of success that comes towards the end of the year, it is a time of creativity because no matter how we are programmed it seems we think of life in years. I keep hoping that way of thinking will change, but it is up to us to make the change if it is going to happen. So while, in my mind, I am lining up projects that will get done this year...books to complete, paintings to be done, I know that they are all part of an ongoing process.
While all these new things are getting started, I look to the past that I can count on. This year, my grandson turned two. I still get to take care of him one day a week and on the days that we are together I get reminded of how wondrous our world is because he tells me. The image above, called Jack's Tractor was his birthday present from me. He loves his grandpa's tractor and knows the names of just about everything that grows in the garden. When he comes next week, he will find all kinds of lettuces growing and tell me more stories.
Jack has a sister coming, so his "world" will change. All of us have changes coming this year. They are all worthy of stories. I hope that we can keep track of the potential for all of these stories.
Friday, January 8, 2010
A STORY TO PLAY FORWARD -FOR MY MOTHER
As I start 2010, I have some unfinished business. I need to start a new blog that is strictly for that purpose. It will be called FINDING DIAMONDS....the name of a talk I've given to libraries and those involved with elder care. The "diamonds" are books....books that are adult, YA, and picture books that can be introduced, shared, and eventually read to those who find themseles needing to move from the longer, thicker books in the adult section of the bookstores and libraries. The reason for this may be poor vision, illness, loss of memory and/or shorter attention span.
My mother always read to me as well as to the neighbor children. She did not have a degree and did not have friends that shared her love of books. But she knew I needed it, and also invited the neighbor's children in to listen at story time. When she moved down here in her 80's there was a little boy at the screen door the night before we moved her waiting to be read to.
When she was 94 we began to notice some changes in her own reading skills. While she stayed highly active on the social scene, she was no longer finishing the novels she started...stating that she "just couldn't get into the book". Or she would realize part way through that she had already read that title not long ago (I already can do that, myself). She became bored more easily, and complained that books jumped around forwards and backwards and were harder to keep track of.
I slowly realized her books were too long and filled with too many threads to follow. She needed books to sweep her away but that were shorter and written in a straightforward manner. I also realized as I gave her some of my YA books to read that she was not familiar with YA books. And because I was a picture book writer and illustrator, she was open to me sharing wonderful picture books with her.
It was time to give my mother back the gift of reading that she had given me. I will talk more in depth about this but, to make a long story short we read my mother backwards. I picked books that reflected her life, her interests, or the life I had lived. I gave her TISHA, the story of a young teacher who moved to Canada to teach in a rural area. I brought her OUT OF THE DUST because she was a child of the Great Depression, had roots in the midwest and grew up on a farm. She read BEYOND THE MANGO TREE because she was diabetic, and I read short stories from THE FEATHER MERCHANTS because she had a wicked sense of humour. As she was reading these books on her own, I found picture books that reflected some of the things we had talked about, THE PAINTER WHO LOVED CHICKENS, NIM AND THE WAR EFFORT, MAILING MAY. She was open and willing to having books shared with her.
When she wasd 96 she was diagnosed with cancer. She only lived a week after that but during that week as she slipped in and out of sleep I re-read books to her that she was familiar with. It eased my fear and discomfort and she would smile occasionally and nod, and I would like to think that the familiar voice and words were soothing to her time of transition.
In order to read my mother backwards, I needed to find diamonds...books that read straightforwardly, with a limited amount of threads and characters to keep track of, books that fit her interests, background and passion. The benefits were a renewed interest in story, a diversion from some of the pain and boredom that often come with illness and aging, and often a trigger for memory and reminiscence.
I talked to Jim Trelease whose contributions to reading children forward is amazing, and he said it was a topic that has yet to be addressed. So here it is. And here is what I want from those of you who are interested. I would like to add to my list of books. I would like some examples of the types of people you think these would appeal to. When I get this blogging thing down better, I will begin posting my collected list that has been added to by librarians and friends.
My dream is a database of books well silently as well as aloud, a place we can type in the characteristics and interests of those we are close to, and up will come books that are just right for them. I feel that those who would benefit from this effort are hospice workers, nursing homes, family caretakers and companions, adult literacy programs and families moving from literacy to literature.
Let me know if you are interested. I want this in place when I need it.
My mother always read to me as well as to the neighbor children. She did not have a degree and did not have friends that shared her love of books. But she knew I needed it, and also invited the neighbor's children in to listen at story time. When she moved down here in her 80's there was a little boy at the screen door the night before we moved her waiting to be read to.
When she was 94 we began to notice some changes in her own reading skills. While she stayed highly active on the social scene, she was no longer finishing the novels she started...stating that she "just couldn't get into the book". Or she would realize part way through that she had already read that title not long ago (I already can do that, myself). She became bored more easily, and complained that books jumped around forwards and backwards and were harder to keep track of.
I slowly realized her books were too long and filled with too many threads to follow. She needed books to sweep her away but that were shorter and written in a straightforward manner. I also realized as I gave her some of my YA books to read that she was not familiar with YA books. And because I was a picture book writer and illustrator, she was open to me sharing wonderful picture books with her.
It was time to give my mother back the gift of reading that she had given me. I will talk more in depth about this but, to make a long story short we read my mother backwards. I picked books that reflected her life, her interests, or the life I had lived. I gave her TISHA, the story of a young teacher who moved to Canada to teach in a rural area. I brought her OUT OF THE DUST because she was a child of the Great Depression, had roots in the midwest and grew up on a farm. She read BEYOND THE MANGO TREE because she was diabetic, and I read short stories from THE FEATHER MERCHANTS because she had a wicked sense of humour. As she was reading these books on her own, I found picture books that reflected some of the things we had talked about, THE PAINTER WHO LOVED CHICKENS, NIM AND THE WAR EFFORT, MAILING MAY. She was open and willing to having books shared with her.
When she wasd 96 she was diagnosed with cancer. She only lived a week after that but during that week as she slipped in and out of sleep I re-read books to her that she was familiar with. It eased my fear and discomfort and she would smile occasionally and nod, and I would like to think that the familiar voice and words were soothing to her time of transition.
In order to read my mother backwards, I needed to find diamonds...books that read straightforwardly, with a limited amount of threads and characters to keep track of, books that fit her interests, background and passion. The benefits were a renewed interest in story, a diversion from some of the pain and boredom that often come with illness and aging, and often a trigger for memory and reminiscence.
I talked to Jim Trelease whose contributions to reading children forward is amazing, and he said it was a topic that has yet to be addressed. So here it is. And here is what I want from those of you who are interested. I would like to add to my list of books. I would like some examples of the types of people you think these would appeal to. When I get this blogging thing down better, I will begin posting my collected list that has been added to by librarians and friends.
My dream is a database of books well silently as well as aloud, a place we can type in the characteristics and interests of those we are close to, and up will come books that are just right for them. I feel that those who would benefit from this effort are hospice workers, nursing homes, family caretakers and companions, adult literacy programs and families moving from literacy to literature.
Let me know if you are interested. I want this in place when I need it.
Monday, January 4, 2010
GIVING THE OLD YEAR AS A GIFT TO THE NEW YEAR
We have just returned from our cabin in the Trinity Alps where we had a quiet New Year's with no TV or computer, a wonderful brunch with old friends the next day, and I was thinking on the way home....what would I choose to wrap up from 2009 as a gift for 2010. So, at a risk of waxing nostalgaic, here are some things I would put in a little box. When I open the box this years they will be memories that will scoot me forward into the direction I want to go this year.
On a David Lettermen note we will start with....
10-Getting ready to teach under a visiting professorship at Hollins University. Going through the last 10 years of writing and illustrating to decide what to teach. It was a walk down memory lane.
9- Babysitting for my grandson once a week and having him tell me each time he wants to paint with Grandma.
8-6 weeks of teaching at Hollins and meeting part of the next wave of writers's for children, and having my youngest daughter live with me for 6 weeks.
7- My first art show at Stephans Fine Arts in Anchorage. It is one of the galleries I dreamed of being in "someday" when we lived in the bush in Alaska.
6- Finishing the next two manuscripts, which have been buried for four years.
5- Listening to my grandson tell his first story last month and then say "teasing Grandma" .
4- Joining the Sebastopol Gallery, and learning the ying and yang of the fine art world.
3-Learning how a business works, how to work a gallery, how to be a merchant selling other people's work as well as my own.
2-Going to a retreat at Asilomar, where writers went to work, but ended up talking about what was really important in their lives and what we have to offer.
1-This is selfish, but a few days ago I received a gift....a book of Inuit Women Artists, art I have studied and admired for years. I am not there yet, but it is where I want to go.
And there should be a no-brainer part of this...meeting new people who have similar views on the world, children who are all doing well, and pursuing their own dreams while forming families and careers, a husband of 40 years who supports my work, while becoming a master meat maker...coppa, pastrami, sausage, salamentes, etc.,. I think these may be the things we take for granted...so they can be the wrapping paper for the last ten gifts that will move me forward into 2010.
I visited with two writing friends today, and will meet with many more next week.and know I should put their support in the gift box as well. So if you have a chance, check out the work of Marsha Diane Arnold, Milly Lee, Stacey Schuett, David Schwartz, Marilyn Sachs, Matt Gollub, Susan Meyers, Lisa Schulman, Julie Downing, Ashely Wolff, and others.
A late Happy New Year to you all, and I would love to hear what is wrapped in the gift box for 2010.
On a David Lettermen note we will start with....
10-Getting ready to teach under a visiting professorship at Hollins University. Going through the last 10 years of writing and illustrating to decide what to teach. It was a walk down memory lane.
9- Babysitting for my grandson once a week and having him tell me each time he wants to paint with Grandma.
8-6 weeks of teaching at Hollins and meeting part of the next wave of writers's for children, and having my youngest daughter live with me for 6 weeks.
7- My first art show at Stephans Fine Arts in Anchorage. It is one of the galleries I dreamed of being in "someday" when we lived in the bush in Alaska.
6- Finishing the next two manuscripts, which have been buried for four years.
5- Listening to my grandson tell his first story last month and then say "teasing Grandma" .
4- Joining the Sebastopol Gallery, and learning the ying and yang of the fine art world.
3-Learning how a business works, how to work a gallery, how to be a merchant selling other people's work as well as my own.
2-Going to a retreat at Asilomar, where writers went to work, but ended up talking about what was really important in their lives and what we have to offer.
1-This is selfish, but a few days ago I received a gift....a book of Inuit Women Artists, art I have studied and admired for years. I am not there yet, but it is where I want to go.
And there should be a no-brainer part of this...meeting new people who have similar views on the world, children who are all doing well, and pursuing their own dreams while forming families and careers, a husband of 40 years who supports my work, while becoming a master meat maker...coppa, pastrami, sausage, salamentes, etc.,. I think these may be the things we take for granted...so they can be the wrapping paper for the last ten gifts that will move me forward into 2010.
I visited with two writing friends today, and will meet with many more next week.and know I should put their support in the gift box as well. So if you have a chance, check out the work of Marsha Diane Arnold, Milly Lee, Stacey Schuett, David Schwartz, Marilyn Sachs, Matt Gollub, Susan Meyers, Lisa Schulman, Julie Downing, Ashely Wolff, and others.
A late Happy New Year to you all, and I would love to hear what is wrapped in the gift box for 2010.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
FAMILY AT CHRISTMAS or ROMANCING THE STONE
THE FAMILY STONE is one of my favorite movies, not because Diane Keeton is dying, but because everyone has to fiercely protect the things that they love, even if that causes a dance where people shift partners and learn to respect new values. My favorite son (my only one) and his lovely wife arrive tomorrow. They will pull in right behind my husband who has been fixing broken pipes at our cabin in the Trinity Alps. And while I'm writing they are enjoying a night together at the cabin. My daughter and her significant other come the next morning and my other daughter and her husband will dance in and out as they go back and forth to their own home with my grandson and soon to be granddaughter. The next four nights are full of family and family extension dinners. For those of you that aren't old enought, that means we are all grandparents and our families now fill our houses...which means a separate night is involved to get the WHOLE family together. Chaos! And as an only child, chaos and the love of people we are close to is all I have ever wanted. Well, not really. I didn't know chaos might be a byproduct.
Once in a while you feel your life come full circle. When we lived in villages in Alaska, we had the same kind of chaotic Christmas week. We had a "village" family. The girls came to our house to bake and create crafts to share. We met at the dance hall, the drums beat and we danced and the kids were given gifts from Santa. Then village families joined their family of relatives. always telling us we could join them. But it was time for many of the teachers on the delta to enjoy their own family committment...to meet in a bigger school, where there was a gym or an extra classroom for the mom's and kids to sleep in. We layed pallettes on the floor and the kids all went to sleep, not caring who they were next to. If we had met these other couples in Sebastopol, where everyone had their own families to go to, our kids would never have known the idea of a village family, or a family of friends. We are lucky. In my family's world there are so many different kinds of families.
During the holidays... Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, etc. the idea of a family can become stereotyped. A mother, a father, a tree, a menorah, and don't forget the gifts! For those who have widened their circle, we should all be grateful...for those who work at food banks, share shifts at hospitals, take the extra shifts at grocery stores so that other can go home, recognize that we are all a part of a bigger family, a wider circle.
...
I think that those of us who write and share our art are also looking for the bigger family.... a group that is open to hearing our story, and is willing to share theirs. And we are looking, often for the greatest gift... listeners. These are the people who listen to our stories, then tell their own so that our own circle can widen.
Once in a while you feel your life come full circle. When we lived in villages in Alaska, we had the same kind of chaotic Christmas week. We had a "village" family. The girls came to our house to bake and create crafts to share. We met at the dance hall, the drums beat and we danced and the kids were given gifts from Santa. Then village families joined their family of relatives. always telling us we could join them. But it was time for many of the teachers on the delta to enjoy their own family committment...to meet in a bigger school, where there was a gym or an extra classroom for the mom's and kids to sleep in. We layed pallettes on the floor and the kids all went to sleep, not caring who they were next to. If we had met these other couples in Sebastopol, where everyone had their own families to go to, our kids would never have known the idea of a village family, or a family of friends. We are lucky. In my family's world there are so many different kinds of families.
During the holidays... Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, etc. the idea of a family can become stereotyped. A mother, a father, a tree, a menorah, and don't forget the gifts! For those who have widened their circle, we should all be grateful...for those who work at food banks, share shifts at hospitals, take the extra shifts at grocery stores so that other can go home, recognize that we are all a part of a bigger family, a wider circle.
...
I think that those of us who write and share our art are also looking for the bigger family.... a group that is open to hearing our story, and is willing to share theirs. And we are looking, often for the greatest gift... listeners. These are the people who listen to our stories, then tell their own so that our own circle can widen.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
PIECES OF CHRISTMAS
Several years ago I wrote and illustrated a book called PIECES OF CHRISTMAS. It is about Santa calling the North Wind to recycle all the letters he's answered.When Santa returns from making his rounds,
the letters he's answered lie drifted in mounds.
He calls the North Wind to swirl them around,
And pieces of Christmas cover the ground.
I wish we could break up what we try to do and feel at Christmastime, and at other holidays through the year, into pieces. I wish a piece of that feeling would land on us every day....talking to a loved one, creating something just from us out of love, giving more than taking, and a belief in something magical about to happen. I have been wondering why some of us, including me, save these good feelings, good thoughts and generous actions for times around holidays. I do know that these pieces often come unrecognized at other times of the year. But during the holidays we are more open to receiving them. We just have to listen, not to the earthly news, but to sounds of goodness that are all around us. As the poem for the stamp above says,
I wish we could break up what we try to do and feel at Christmastime, and at other holidays through the year, into pieces. I wish a piece of that feeling would land on us every day....talking to a loved one, creating something just from us out of love, giving more than taking, and a belief in something magical about to happen. I have been wondering why some of us, including me, save these good feelings, good thoughts and generous actions for times around holidays. I do know that these pieces often come unrecognized at other times of the year. But during the holidays we are more open to receiving them. We just have to listen, not to the earthly news, but to sounds of goodness that are all around us. As the poem for the stamp above says,
The vole performed throughout the night...
He violined in black and white,
While people stopped to hear the sound
of Christmas coming from the ground.
For all of you who have put extra stamps, exotic stamps. collectors stamps on Christmas mail to us, thank you . They are like small magical windows to look through. And like any perfect gift, they tell me that you know a little about me. As we exchange gifts and thoughts during the holidays, let us share small pieces of ourselves and let us continue to share these pieces after the holidays.
Oh, and usually I connect this with writing. All I can say is that when we write, we need to share a piece of ourselves. It is our greatest gift to give.
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