I've been absent.
Major change for me is like, trying to stir really thick cake batter. Yes, it's yummy, it's work, it's frustrating and you really shouldn't eat it uncooked and not expect your tummy won't hurt later. I admit. I was caught off guard. Going back to work full time put me in a flour covered kitchen with mitts for hands. The good part is, I love my job. I just don't like actually working (the schedule, the getting up, the "work" part). Does that make sense? I mean, I love teaching but doing it every day is like eating too much cake batter. Now, now, now, don't think that I don't put in 100% every day because, I, dear friends was the best student ever, and that just puts me in line to be a good teacher, direct lineage let's say. I take great pride in my job. But my mind is always wandering.....
I've been putting in time. I've been practicing. I've been making mistakes and throwing things in the trash, lots of things in the trash. I've been reading and thinking and writing. I have been doing things on the GOOD paper and not caring if it comes out okay (having a full time job does help with my Dick Blick bills). Because, my end goal has always, and I do mean, always, to write and illustrate picture books. Always. Since I could hold a crayon.
So, why do you ask have I not been scooting down this road before? I have. But I was busy and tired and chasing little ones around. Oh my 30's-the lost decade as one 40 something mother told me (she had on a WHITE shirt, so I took her word for it that things would get better). I joined SCBWI, I went to a few conferences, I learned, observed and promptly went back to day dreaming. But that was then....
I'm just putting in the time.
We'll see what happens.
But first, before I get back to teaching myself how to really use watercolor.....here's one of those cool moments, I was driving to my really old school in October ( I teach one day out of the five at a 100 year old school, one of each grade, 120 kids, room the size of the janitor's closet, but it's so historical it makes my heart jump) and I was thinking about how to get better. I was remembering that about a decade ago, I saw that the Corcoran had a course on children's book illustration. I was a new mom and driving in to Georgetown on a Monday night was out of the question. So, I waited until the following semester when, of course, the class wasn't offered anymore. I emailed the illustrator/instructor, Henry Cole, alas he was moving out of the area, so sorry he said. His email was warm and kind. Perhaps, I should find another course, a class....
Later that day, I see in my work email that Henry Cole is doing a school visit at MY SCHOOL. Now, really, what are the odds? Slim to none. He was back in the area and he, in fact, grew up in the town I was teaching in. Slim to none.
The day, he came, I was ALL grins. I felt like Elvis was in building. He was amazing, charming, hilarious and INFECTIOUS. I started drawing my characters again, I started writing again. He sparked me. His story was the same as mine. The kid who could draw. The kid who won all the poster contests. The kid who wrote books about ANYTHING and everything they could think of.
I did introduce myself. He was just as kind as anything. I didn't tell him that I wanted to grow up and be just like him. My smile told it all.
I like teaching. I love working with kids. He told stories and made my students heads explode with possibility. Mine as well. It was great day. A pivotal day.
Now back to work......the batter is turning out nicely.
|frozen snow days=time in my studio|
|my studio, pretty neat eh (as in not messy, amazing)|
|letter roughs, in order to practice watercolor, I am making the alphabet, boys/girls. The "Q" is for my godson.|
|practice, experiment, practice-how to work in collage? yes, no, maybe so. experiment.|
|just for me...things buried under the sea series|
|title page from vintage book series|