Thursday, May 12, 2016

the story that wants to be told




"It's that thing, always, of getting out of my own way.  
I feel like the story knows more than I do.  The story is smarter than I am.  
And wiser. And so I can't make the story conform to me because it would ruin the story.
The story shapes me.  

Every book that I've written has changed me and deepened me.  

So then I'm in different territory entirely than I anticipated.  But I've been doing it long enough now 
to know that I want to be in a different territory than I anticipated.  
Because that's where all the wisdom is, in this story that wants to be told, 
as opposed to me telling the story.  






I love this quote.  And I find it to be true with drawing as well.  Many of my favorite drawings seem to shape themselves.  They might begin with a familiar curve but they quickly wander off into unfamiliar territory.  They too, have a story to tell.  And my job, is to listen.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

what matters



"My work is loving the world.
Are my boots old?  Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished."

-from Messenger by Mary Oliver






So this happened a while back, but a selection from my portfolio is now up on the Writers House Art Website.  It's hard to find words to describe the feeling of seeing my name there alongside the names of SO MANY of my Picture Book heroes.  So a picture instead—







And the Mary Oliver poem in its entirety here—


Messenger

My work is loving the world.



Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—

          equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.


Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
          keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,


which is mostly standing still and learning to be
          astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,



which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

          and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

          to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

telling them all, over and over, how it is

          that we live forever.


Monday, May 2, 2016

time

 

"Art requires time — there’s a reason it’s called a studio practice."

-Teresita Fernández