Into the great beyond

This week I finished the last of a long sequence of deadlines.  I rushed and panicked, and then sent everything in on time anyway (so why worry so much?).  And now I have this feeling of release.  You know that moment when a helium balloon escapes your hands and it bobs around within arm's reach for a moment before zooming upwards into the great void of sky?  

That's exactly how I feel:  at the moment I'm bobbing around, not far from removed from my previous project.  I can feel the rush of air, and that sense of free breathing.  I'm done!  Yay!

But, any second now, I'll zoom into the great unknown and I'll be surrounded by the outer atmosphere. What?  You mean there's no work on the horizon, for the foreseeable future?  Eek!  

In the meantime, I thought I'd share some of the illustrations I completed for my latest illustration projects.  They're all commissioned by Pearson Education and Oxford University Press (both in South Africa).  

Michael Rosen and Mark Haddon on Reading

 

Michael Rosen and Mark Haddon discussed the transformative qualities of great books; how reading them can change our outlook on life.

Michael Rosen did a reading, the the manner of his father, demonstrating the magic of "Great Expectations."  Apparently, Rosen first heard Great Expectations when his father read it aloud to the family on a rather wet camping trip in Yorkshire (or was it the Urals?). Rosen held the audience in the grip of each word as he read the first few pages of book, complete with actions and voices.  If you want a sampling of his dynamic reading style, don't miss his youtube rendition of "We're Going on a Bear Hunt."  

Mark Haddon, by comparison, explained how learning ancient Greek profoundly changed his appreciation for reading.  Suddenly he could read the Iliad and the Odyssey in their original form.  Translating the ancient language into English made him consider every word, and every expression seriously.  This isn't something that we do when we read fluently in a language.  Too often we skim forward, only stopping at the 'best bits' to read slowly or re-read.

And while Michael Rosen and Mark Haddon were discussing the merits of different kinds of reading, I was sketching.  I intended to draw both men, but got stuck on Michael Rosen.  He bears an uncanny resemblance to my uncle Paul and my Dad!  Those blue eyes, slightly rounded nose and wiry grey beard.  My first attempt at drawing Michael actually ended up being my uncle Paul, totally by accident!  (See top left sketch).

If you're interested in finding out more about the importance of reading.  Pick up a copy of

Stop What You're Doing and Read This!

which is a book of essays on reading by Michael Rosen, Mark Haddon, Zadie Smith and many more.

Cheers!

Christmas in Namibia - the desert

I think I still have sand in my pores, even though I've been home for a week.  Namibia is the kind of country that stays with you long after you've left.  When I close my eyes, I still see the shifting dunes, and arid, rocky desert, and the wild sea. 

My only excuse for not having filled a sketchbook with watercolours of the dunes and the waves is the mountain of illustration work I had to complete (over Christmas!).  

Mornings in Swakopmund are always submerged in cool Atlantic mist.  I'd wake early, set up on the kitchen table, and churn out as many finals as possible.  Then, every afternoon, when the desert sun had burned the mist away, we'd escape the seashore, or take a drive into the dunes with a picnic.  

One one occasion I came face to face with a lovely little chameleon.  He was crouching in the sun, and looked so melancholy that I named him Leonard Cohen.  All he needs is a cigarette, a tumbler of brandy, and a guitar, don't you think?  

 A desert chameleon

 The Swakop "River" - a dried river bed

Welwitschia Plant - over 2000 years old

And the mist and the waves....

Here's to an amazing year!

Whew!

2011 was an amazing year: a sprint, a marathon, an obstacle course and very, very fun.

It seems that everyone in the blogosphere is doing reviews of their year, and across the board I'd say it was pretty successful for all of us.

And my year?

 January of 2011 started with a BIG change; a change of cities, continents and hemispheres.  I travelled from London to Cape Town to join my husband for an extended holiday.  Since that moment I've been on the move through approximately 22 cities, including: New York, Amsterdam, London, Chicago, Toronto, Bologna, Johannesburg, Brussels...

Pretty far flung, huh?

Of course, the year wasn't completely leisurely.  I had a lot of illustration work to do as well.  In fact, I travelled with my scanner, sketchbook, pens and paints wherever I went.  I joked that I worked in the

great portable studio

(more on that in another post).  This year, I've finished commissions on hotel bedside tables, tiny guest-bedroom desks, and near-strangers kitchen tables.

I can only hope that 2012 will live up to 2011.

Here's to you all, may your 2012 be happy and prosperous, and worth blogging about!

Happy Christmas!

Happy Christmas Everyone!

Frohe Weihnachten! 

I'm so excited about this Christmas: more than usually excited, in fact.  It will be my first Christmas in Africa with my husband's family... and my Mom.  We're all gathering together in Cape Town, and then travelling to Swakopmund in Namibia to celebrate in the desert by the sea where the dunes fall directly into the Atlantic Ocean. 

How does one celebrate Christmas in a desert?

 I'm used to Canadian/British cold weather: snow, rain, coniferous Christmas trees, twinkle lights and lots of blankets and hot chocolate.  Instead, we'll have sun, wind, heat and a thorn tree for a Christmas tree.  I can't wait to experience all these new things.

So, while things go silent all 'round the internet, and we celebrate with our families and friends, I want to wish you all a wonderful holiday season and a happy and healthy New Year.  Thanks for reading my blog; you make every day brighter.  And... I can't wait to catch up with all of you in January! 

The Tea Robot

Yesterday afternoon Alicia Padrón and I had a twitter conversation about our mutual wish for an assistant in the form of a robot. Alicia wanted hers to make her coffee and bring cake; I'd love mine to bring endless cups of rooibos tea.

She drew the cutest coffee robot ever invented. (See here) And I promised to draw my version of a tea robot. This is a super-duper quick sketch because I'm panicking to finish a huge job before tomorrow.

Where's that soothing cup of rooibos tea when you need it?

A Few Things That Make Me Happy

With the beginning of the holiday season (and deadline season) looming, I've decided I need to focus on the things that make me happy. I need to slow down the pace for a moment and really notice what's going on around me.

This morning, after receiving some disappointing news regarding a long-hoped-for job, my Mom and I went for a coffee in the Bo Kaap neighbourhood. My mind was a fog of sad thoughts, but then I lifted my head and looked around. It's impossible to be melancholy for long in the Bo Kaap, where candy coloured houses tumble down the cobbled streets from Signal Hill to the city centre. Who can be sad when someone is growing pink petunias on the pink wall? It made my heart sing.

Another thing that makes me really happy is my messy desk. Every so often I try to clear it up, but in less than a day it always looks like a whirlwind again. But, I know where everything is, and the mess feels cozy!

What makes you happy this December?

The Sea! The Sea!

Being a prairie girl, I've never had a close acquaintance with the sea. I've admired it on summer trips; I've stuck my toes in it and shivered; I've dreamed of living in a beach house; but, it never seemed like a "real" place. The seaside was a dream and a vacation, not a home.

Now I find myself living within a short distance from two seas: the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic ocean. Each has its own distinct personality and moods, and each are inspiring in their own way. And I love them both!

This new friendship with the sea led me to contemplate children and mermaids. How much fun would it be to have a secret mermaid friend? 

 

The Cape Town Aquarium

Riding Horses in the Atlantic.

Illustration Friday - Stripes

Here's the sketch for today.

I've been staring at a blank piece of paper all week, trying to figure out what to do next. I have two large projects that need starting (need finishing actually, but starting comes first). Do you ever get that crippling feeling of artistic insecurity before you start something big?

It got so frustrating this morning that I just had to draw SOMETHING. So... I did an illustration friday painting. The theme was "stripes." I didn't want to over-think the challenge, as I've been over-thinking my projects all week, so I just did a simple stripey portrait.

And, you know what? Suddenly I think I have more creative chutzpah to tackle those overwhelming projects. :-)

Sketching Llandudno - Cape Town

 

I promise, I have been drawing every day. I just can't prove it. Really. Every day I sit down with my sketchbook and watch my pencil skim across the paper. Sometimes I'm happy with the result; sometimes I'm not; and, sometimes, the sketch turns into something I don't want to share. What I mean is, they turn into something more substantial, a full painting that I will share at a later date (you know, to keep the suspense going).

These daily drawings have forced me to really think about my style. What is my visual language? How do I make marks on paper? The trick with drawing is to be able to anticipate what might unfold. You need to draw as though the sketch could turn into a full painting. That means different things for different people, as everyone works differently. For me, it means working with clear lines and tones (three shades: light, middle, dark).

The exercise has forced me to draw with greater clarity. I have to see clearly in order to be able to draw clearly.

Above you see a little pencil sketch of Llandudno, a lovely bay in Cape Town. To the left is the Klein Leewkoppie, the smaller lion's head mountain. This tiny sketch was done quickly, in my evolving visual short-hand. I couldn't draw them, but the waves in the bay were teaming with seals frolicking in the waves.

SCBWI Cape Town Spring Conference 2011

This weekend I attended the SCBWI Cape Town Spring conference (2011). It was such a treat! The roster of speakers dazzled the attendees: Steve Mooser (SCBWI president and founder), Erzsi Deàk (founder of Hen and Ink agency), Nicol Faasen, and Stephan Spies (publisher).

The afternoon consisted of crit groups moderated by prominent South African publishers: Michelle Cooper (Tafelberg), Sally Howes (Watermark), Carol Broomhall (Jacana), Aldré Lategan (Human and Rousseau), and Miemie du Plessis (Lapa).

The consistent theme throughout all the talks and critiques was how we all need persistence. It can be hard to trust the process of creating, but this conference definitely affirmed the need for bravery and persistence when facing blank paper. There is a story within you; cajole it out of hiding with songs and soft words, otherwise it may remain in the shadows forever. Don't give up!

Well, hello there, old friends

There is something cathartic about organizing the studio. These long lost friends of mine, sequestered in suitcases and plastic bags, have finally found their way back into the daylight. My brushes, pens, pencils, and paints have travelled with me across two hemispheres. From Cape Town to Winnipeg and back, with many stop-overs in between. They've served their wandering master well, with no complaints (except from the paint tubes... some exploded inflight and left my art-bag full of pigment) and now they've come to rest on a my studio table again.

One thing I've learned through all this travel and upheaval is that here is no 'magic' place to make art. I used to think that I needed a perfect studio, and all my art supplies arranged 'just so,' before I could create something worth-while. On this trip I haven't had that luxury; In fact, I've had to create illustrations for silly deadlines in all manner of inconvenient places. All that really matters is that I have the time to stop and draw, no matter where I happen to be sitting.

We're back in Cape Town for the next couple of months, and I'm back in my studio with the view of the grapevine and Table Mountain. I'm definitely going to have lots of work to do in the next few months, so perhaps this next statement is foolhardy... but... I want to start a drawing challenge.

I resolve to draw something every weekday and post it on this blog.

[There, I said it. Now you can keep me accountable!]

Courtauld Alumni Authors Event

One of the best things about being a Courtauld Institute of Art alumna is that I get to rub shoulders with fantastically creative people on a regular basis.

This week was the first (annual, I hope) Courtauld Alumni Authors event. All Courtauld Institute alumni were encouraged to submit books they'd authored in the past few years, and a select few were chosen for the reading night.

On display were hundreds of great, authoritative, art historical tomes, worthy of the best ivy league libraries. But, amongst all those scholarly books were a few exceptions, and those were chosen for the reading: two novels, two memoirs, and poetry.

I wasn't selected to read, as the audience was too erudite for children's books, but at the post-reading soirée Magic at the Museum was prominently displayed with all the other 'fiction' books. (See above)

And now that my Friday work is done, I'll brew a cup of coffee and hibernate with my copy of Lunch in Paris by Elizabeth Bard. I'm giddy with anticipation: a New York Times bestseller, set in Paris, and written by a Courtauld alumna. It just couldn't get any better than that!

Sketches from New York and Minneapolis

A whole week in New York... and I spent practically the whole time staring at the skyline. The variety of roofline shapes, colours and heights sent my head into a dizzy spin. Or perhaps it was the vertigo of staring up all the time while trying to walk in a straight line and not crash into a harried New Yorker.

I wanted to record the crowds, and the activities, that I saw around me in that great city. Instead, I found myself drawing all the fire escapes and water towers. Did you know that practically every New York building of a certain age has a small water tower on its roof to increase water pressure? They seemed so old fashioned and quaint, like a nod to the past in the ultra-modern, ultra-fast-paced city.

I imagined that Yakko, Wakko and Dot from the Animaniacs would burst out of a random water tower and break into wild song and dance. Perhaps to interrupt the UN General Assembly with their antics. Do you remember that old Warner Brothers show?

The last water-tower sketch is from the old Pillsbury Flour mill in Minneapolis. And here's another old children's TV trivia question: Do you remember the Pillsbury Doughboy? I loved the way he always said, "Hoo Hoo!" with a giggle whenever the industrious Mom tickled his stomach. He was so helpful in the kitchen; and the cookies, buns and rolls always turned out perfectly.

Hoo Hoo!

Adventures in... Chicago

Today we leave Chicago. This is my second time in the windy city, and I love it more with every visit. It has the perfect mix of cosmopolitan hustle and bustle combined with small-town friendliness.

I've been sketching as much as I can. The pace of travelling doesn't automatically lend itself to leisurely sketching time. I admire those who seem to make travel sketchbooks so effortlessly. How do they do it?

I tried to photograph my sketchbook pages, in the hopes of posting them as I go along. But the pictures were fuzzy and poorly exposed, so I'll rather post a selection of my best sketches at the end of this epic journey.

Today we leave for New York! It will be my first time in the 'capitol of the world' and I can't wait!

Adventures in... Winnipeg

I don't think anything quite compares to a prairie sky. I've admired many a sky, in many a lovely foreign place, but there's something awe-inspiring about the vastness and power of the sky in the Great Plains. It stretches from horizon to horizon, making everything else seem insignificant.

I haven't been taking that many pictures, except these ones that I took on a 'scenic drive'. It always seems redundant in my home town. I've seen everything so many times that it doesn't seem special. Except now that Mark is here with me, and I'm seeing it all with fresh eyes.

And time to fess up. I also haven't been doing that much sketching either (for the same reasons). I start to draw something and then think, "is this even interesting?" And besides, drawing a landscape means drawing a straight line across the page... where's the challenge in that?

However, we've started to do more sight seeing and I'm gradually filling the pages of my sketchbook. I'm not sure if I'll post them as I go along, or all at once at the end of the trip...

what do you think?

We've still got Minneapolis, Chicago, New York and Toronto to cover.

Or perhaps, after each city I should do a summary of our time with sketches?

Summer Sunday Sketches in Steinbach

Summer Sunday sketches in Steinbach.

Ok, try to say that five times fast.

Yesterday I spent a lazy afternoon wandering around my home town with my sketchbook and a new Faber-Castell brush pen. The clock tower in my drawing is at the corner of Reimer and Main, the epicentre of town, where everything happens.

At least, where everything happens on a weekday. On a Sunday it is perfectly quiet, and the only thing bustling down the street is a lazy, hot prairie wind.

I haven't used brush pens much, and I've discovered that I really love the long undulating line. I wonder: how long does a brush pen last before it can't achieve those delicate thin lines, and only drags thick, scratchy strokes across the page? I guess I'll find out as I learn.

Make yourself comfortable

Take a seat!

Make yourself comfortable.

I'll pour some coffee and we can chat; it's been so long.

Now that you've toured the kitchen, I thought perhaps we could curl up in the living room for a chat. I really love all my blog readers, and I wish I could get to know each of you a bit better. Wouldn't this little room be the perfect place for a tête-à-tête?

Again, the majority of what you see is hand-made by a young yours-truly. Since I've taken a bit of a hiatus from posting drawings, I thought I could share a different artwork: the dollhouse!

Welcome to my childhood home

Pull up a chair. I'll cut the cake.

And, please don't mind the mess.

I haven't been doing much these past few days. I'm relaxing and enjoying the absence of deadlines (what a luxury!).

I can't really show many pictures of my actual home, because it's being renovated as we speak. It seems that I move from building-site to building-site around the world, leaving unfinished houses in my wake.

But, I can show you on of my 'spiritual' homes: my dollhouse. It's not just any dollhouse, of course. I worked on it for over a decade, starting when I was about 9 or 10. I sewed the dolls, and made practically everything you see by hand (except the dishes, the lamp and the cake).

It was my dream home in miniature. I still sometimes wish I could shrink, and spend a few days with my dolls in their cozy house.

I thought I'd give you a tour, starting with the kitchen...