Category Archives: thoughts

ideas & inspiration

The French Collector

 

This last week, a friend and I entered an enchanted garden store where the owner, we were told, lives part-time in France, three hours from Paris, where she collects beautiful objects that she sells in her little, magical store. 

 

 

She goes to France. Gets to buy and collect beautiful things. Then she sells them at home, supporting her future trips to France. Oh, and she bought her three-hours-from-Paris home for around $50,000 and it needed little work that, when done, was done quickly and reasonably.

 

 

Can I have a life like that one? “Honey, I need to go to our second home for a month, to get new items to sell in the store. I’ll go to the flea markets, to little run-down shops, to auctions, to cobblestone streets, to the song of the French language lilting off the tongues of everyone around me. And I’ll buy silverware sets, and books, and old tins, and perfume bottles, and tattered crosses that I’ll clean up and sell for $50 apiece. I’ll drink French coffee and eat baguettes and go to the COOP grocery store and hear the church bells and walk in the rain and breathe the air and think, “I did it. I love my life. I’m here. This is it.”

 

This weekend, we went to the coast. Instead of living part-time in France, we drove into the heart of Oregon wilderness where the trees loomed up around us, blocking out the light, and the rain blew sideways, and the tides were out.

We got coffee at a very tiny and expensive gourmet grocery then walked to the small expanse of beach, with an island only accessible at low tide. I wore my rubber boots and dared the waves to come. 

The island loomed. Trees on the top, shards of rock cascading beneath them, and two little inlets where we could cross the wash of water that ran over the sand, about an inch thick per wave. Our islandy perch was about seven feet of dry sand, with a cave on one end and a nook on the other. Plants dangled long tendrils with baby leaves over the mouth of the cave. I had to go inside, then to look up and see about a thousand cockroaches writhing over each other. Very slowly, I backed out. On a slant of rock near the nook across the way, clung a tiny trilobite-looking thing, much like the cockroaches, and I marveled at seeing one alive, as I’d only seen something like that fossilized. Maybe that’s what they were: ancestors of trilobites, not cockroaches.

And I stood in the water, with my rubber boots, and marveled at the expanse of froth that glistened as though made of diamonds. And then it ran over my boots and I ran back to the lighter shore, where the husband carried the sleeping child, and his larger-than-mine coffee, and laughed and said the words I’d been thinking: “Never turn your back to the ocean.”

Then how are you supposed to get back to shore?

Walk backwards.

It’s easier to be pushed over from behind, than when you face the ocean. I guess.

If only I could take rocks from the sea, and then sell them for gardens, supporting future trips to caves with coffee, boots in saltwater, a vast expanse of diamonds.

 

Perpetuate Better Living

A few months ago, my friend gave me a Ninkasi Beer sweatshirt that says “Perpetuate Better Living” across the front. I totally missed the point then but, just recently, I somehow awoke to the true meaning, and it’s been haunting me ever since.

Perpetuate Better Living. It’s not just a tagline for beer. It’s a way of life. And my friend exudes that kind of life. She knows how to turn situations around and how to really enjoy life and to delve into the things she loves. I want to make a print of the phrase and hang it by the door, so I see it every time I leave the house. Perpetuate Better Living. Choose to enjoy life.

And there’s so much of it to enjoy, and there are so many ways we can live better. You know how they say that many small actions lead to big change? There are thousands of small things you can do and choices you can make to have a better experience of life.

For example, this is small, but, are you listening to your favorite music? Did you stretch? I’m home a lot with a baby and realized that our house is pretty silent, so I put on some of my favorite music and the babes and I danced. And now that’s part of what we do. But I did it because I was thinking of the phrase and wondering, ‘How can I enhance this moment?’

Maybe that’s a massaging of the tagline. Enhance the moment.

You can remember to eat lunch, or make yourself eat something healthy. Turn off the TV. Go for a walk or run. Get more sleep. Wear lipstick. Treat yourself. Do your nails. Call friends. Speak kindly to yourself.

There’s an extension to others in the tagline, too. Perpetuate. So reach out. The friend who gave me the shirt is constantly giving to others, and so is her fiance. My closest friends are all givers, sometimes almost to their detriment. There’s also the important element of enhancing others’ ability to achieve their dreams, and live their lives well.

What if you treat life like it were a wonderful party at your house, and you’re the hostess. You’re cleaning up and decorating — changing your life — to gear for this party — your better living. Then, when all of your friends and people in your life are there, you’re like the hostess, passing out drinks and champagne and getting everyone talking and ensuring they have a good time. That’s perpetuating better living beyond yourself.

Maybe that’s the point to life.

I’ve been through a lot in this life. The phrase makes me laugh a little, as it’s been soooooo much. From important people dying to, well, let’s stop there. It’s easy to let the drudgery of life take over. To forget to do the simple things, like stretch, turn on music, eat. But it’s all there, for you, waiting for you to choose to make your life that much better. Drink water. Go outside. Wear your favorite shirt/outfit. A thousand little options are all just waiting for you to turn them on, to enhance the life you’re walking through.

Perpetuate better living. Life is and can be so much better. Why not enjoy this experience as much as possible, while you’re in it?

That’s what I want to remind myself every day, and what I want to consciously live through. That’s now my motto, my being.

finis.

Currently listening to:

 

 

Why Digital? And Other Questions

Watercoloring
Watercoloring is so hard!

Why am I writing, illustrating, and watercoloring a book that’s meant for the Kindle? I mean, shouldn’t all things creative, that have to do with books, be for the Printed Page?

Great question, and one that I feel like I really want to share. Sure, I’d love to print this myself and sell a stapled together, zine-type version in my Etsy shop, but the original function of this piece is for the Kindle, and every time I think of the reason, I see this scene:

A mom, reading to her three year-old daughter on an iPad, in the hospital.

I used to be a volunteer at a children’s hospital, and by stroke of fate I volunteered on the floor for kids with cancer. I was supposed to be a baby holder. That’s right–they need people to hold babies at hospitals, and you can volunteer for that! Just as the coordinator was signing me up for my shift, her parter signed someone else up for the same slot–like, a half a second before she put my name in, someone else got it, and there were no more baby-holder positions available. So she asked… How did I feel about kids with cancer?

And thus my life changed in a radical way, and I spent some of the best times of my life in the hospital halls and rooms, entertaining very sick kids. Very sick kids who played baseball in the halls (we did), who were sometimes stuck in their rooms (and we had to wear gowns, gloves, and masks to visit them), and kids who were going in for major surgeries, or carting around giant IV poles with, sometimes, 5 or more different bags going into their arms… and kids experiencing very uncomfortable side effects from their chemo.

These kids couldn’t leave the hospital unless it was because a) they were finally well enough to walk out, or b) they were so sick that they would go home, spend time with their families, and join a spiritual realm. On occasion they could leave for a day or two between weeks, or months, of chemo. Those were always exciting trips for them, and reliefs for their parents (usually the moms, who also spent days/weeks/months in the hospital).

They couldn’t go to a book store. And no used books were available to them (germs). So iPads and computers became portals to other worlds.

So when I think of putting my books online, I think of these kids. Maybe I can reach some of them and give them something a little entertaining, a little different, a small diversion. They’re the first goal, and all the other goals follow behind that one. xo

Love.

Start Small & Appreciate the Depth of the Stars

I love this interview in Nerdette with Felicia Day, which wasn’t only hilarious, but insightful: she talked about the incremental development of progress. How she, as a child, would practice the violin out of sheer boredom, and learned the lesson that in  order to master something big, you first have to break it down to the little parts and learn those. There is no “become a virtuoso in three seconds.” Instead, it’s “let’s learn this move over and over and over again,” until it becomes real; until it becomes muscle memory, and then you add it to your repertoire.

Thinking about that, it feels like mastery is really mastering a bag of smaller tricks. Like, marbles. Masters of the craft have simply filled their marble jar of tricks, and you’re just beginning. don’t worry about being a master; just focus on the marbles. I’m kind of learning that with Poi. Every move is composed of figuring out a lot of smaller moves, then eventually putting them together.

That’s how I feel with drawing. Only, with drawing, I also like the aesthetic of noviceness. I like my drawings to look hand drawn and imperfect. Because there’s play and freedom in that. If I work too hard and something is too realistic, then I don’t want to use it. That’s why I love drawing the Henri series: because it isn’t perfect, and I’m being so far far from well-drawn, it lets me try to draw anything without fear. Because it’s SUPPOSED to look messed up.

Like, I drew this picture for The World’s Best Auntie Book and couldn’t use it. Why? It was trying to be too realistic and perfect, and there wasn’t enough play. It wasn’t messed up enough, silly enough, etc. And when it starts to look too life-like (for me) then it’s also easier to compare with reality and to see where it doesn’t pick up.

girls playing instruments, illustration

But if it’s a silly drawing/cartoon where messing up is part of the whole shebang, then the expectations are totally different. That’s the freedom of play. This picture is way more fun and was way more fun to draw.

 

 

Silly girls playing instruments for the World's Best Auntie (who lounges by an unseen pool).
Silly girls playing instruments for the World’s Best Auntie (who lounges by an unseen pool).
World's Best Auntie Lounging Around
World’s Best Auntie Lounging Around
Filling in trees and drummin' with the World's Best Auntie, Ever....
Filling in trees and drummin’ with the World’s Best Auntie, Ever….

However, drawing over and over and over kind of naturally leads you to a better drawing place. You figure out how to draw an arm going one way, or a head turn, or ruffles, or whatever. and then you’re leading yourself into the more realistic and out of the place you want to be. And then… you’re intentionally deciding if you like that or not and you’re developing a style, and choosing a way to draw. That’s where Im kind of finding myself, which is a weird position to be in–one I’ve never been in before.

Also, I’m kind of in love with Katie Daisy right now. Aren’t her illustrations old-world and beautiful? They remind me of my childhood favorite, The Golden Egg Book. Where is that beauty? Lost, lost, lost… ah, the tragedy! 😉

Michelle and I were discussing children’s books today when I gave her an armful of ones left over from my nieces, and she said “I really love the pictures. I love them more than adult books, actually,” in an apologetic kind of tone… but I totally agreed! They’re AMAZING. Stunning. Visually pleasing. A lot of hard work goes into them! They’re beautiful and silly and graceful and works of art. And they’re hard to do.

Little things, like drawing the same person over and over, can be hard. Drawing it once? Easy. Drawing it twice yet different? Whole New Story. Or drawing, say, a bunch of kids and making their proportions all match? No head too big or body too small? Hard. A challenge. So now, when I look at children’s books, I REALLY appreciate all the work that went into them. It’s talent and design. It’s practice, practice, practice.

I remember listening to an interview of an illustrator who became one in her thirties (or was it forties?) who said that she had to get good, first. She had to learn how to draw! And Kelly Rae Roberts kind of says the same thing in her book Flying Lessons. She wasn’t an incredible artist at first. She had to learn and develop her craft, and it took years.

All of this to say… starting something helps you appreciate those who do it well in a deeper, more satisfying way. You’ll love it. And, at the same time, starting something means to master the little marbles and add them to your jar. Don’t worry about all of them–they’ll come. Just go for the one-by-one for now. Eventually, your jar will overfillith…. it just takes a lot of fun practice.

Are you a Creative Person?

Wow, what a big deal! Hopefully this post will eventually be buried by a thousand other posts about art, life, and illustration. But this is the first one, and it has to be written, to get it out of the way!

Are you a Creative Person?

I think the answer is YES, we’re all creative people. Your propensity might be for cooking, or interior decorating, or drawing, or writing, but somewhere inside is your creative… synchronicity. That thing you do well, and that you know you do well.

Danielle LaPorte, in her interview with Gala Darling, tackles that question, as well, when she talks about people feeling “totally clueless,” because, she says, that we all know what lights us up… and that we need to just believe that we already know the answer.

I always knew that my answer is writing and illustrating, though I also always felt like a loser about it. Argh! Like, untrained (mostly–took a lot of art classes a long time ago) and a TOTAL perfectionist when it comes to writing, which lead to nothing getting released, ever. And a complete feeling of lack and feeling like a failure. This blog, in fact, is part of the beginning of crawling out of that and taking my art seriously.

Maybe that’s the hint, or answer, right there. You are a creative person, and it’s up to you to take that creativity to the next level by allowing yourself to do it. To give it light. To let yourself paint, make art, do the podcast, learn to code, whatever. To let yourself do it, and to let yourself be. who. you. are.

So, short answer, yes. Yes, you are. Long answer: are you, if you don’t do it? Well, it’s within you, but it will take time, and your life experiences, to bring it out. That’s the long form, because that will take years. But then what? Massive life improvement.

You’ll see.