This Infanta has been showing up in my sketchbook for the past 15 years. I probably owe her a story, with that level of persistence.
Also, I’ve been updating my portfolio over the past few weeks. In addition to new book samples, there’s now a section for lettering and design, updated sketchbooks and some new surface design work.
I have a mental list of dream projects and clients. Over the years, the list has shifted, some hopes staying and others evolving. And there’s a few things on that list that have even come to pass — like illustrating for Taproot Magazine.
But one project I’ve wanted to work on for ages is a mural. For someone who tends to work at impossibly small sizes, this is definitely playing against type. But the heart wants, etc., etc. So here’s me hinting rather loudly to the internets that I’d very much like to paint a mural for someone, somewhere. And if you were to ever let that mural incorporate my favorite line from Dostoevsky, I would love you forever.
I possess a decidedly snarky streak and make daily attempts to squelch it, with varying degrees of success. But these words make even me stop and feel that maybe, just maybe, beauty can destroy what is hideous and build up what is wounded. Perhaps not today, but maybe tomorrow.
And I’ll take that bit of a glimmer, for whatever it’s worth.
A new pattern I’ve been working on, inspired by traditional Polish paper cutting, Wycinanki.
And some news about a new picture book (scroll way, way down for the announcement). I’m painting the cover for this one at the moment, the last bit of art I have left to do. Larissa Theule’s manuscript moved me to tears on the very first read through and it feels bittersweet to be finishing this book, a story that I have loved so much.
I’ve had a pause between projects, so have been using the time to tackle a few things on my to do list. One of those items is a postcard, inspired by the story of Vasilisa the Beautiful and Baba Yaga. Reading about the tale, I realized this Ivan Bilibin illustration was in the collection of stories I read as a child, an edition my mother had owned herself when young. Frankly, I have zero memory of those skulls, which fascinates me. It didn’t take much to scare me growing up: I still remember the terror I felt when the commercials for Twin Peaks aired. So I’m intrigued that I don’t remember the ghoulishness of those skeletons, but do remember Vasilisa’s heroism. Which if you’re going to remember anything, is, I suppose, the better thing to recall. Also, if you want to do a deep dive into Bilibin’s art, wow.
Anyway…
I’d watched the ITV remake of Professor T this summer and didn’t think it possible anyone could supersede Ben Miller in the titular role, but the original Belgian production is absolutely stellar. Caveat: I skipped the first episode, because of the subject matter, but have enjoyed all the others.
I’m reading The Penguin Book of Mermaids at the moment. It’s a compendium of merfolk stories, from all over the world and throughout history. The best parts have been the oral histories from Estonia and Scotland, where locals recount their stories of mermaid interactions. It’s worth a read for those sections alone.
And the lemon trees I mentioned back in December? They’re still plugging along, pictured below. They, too, are rather anxious for winter to get a move on out of here.
Monday is Valentine’s Day, so here’s a free printable to celebrate. There’s two per page and you’re welcome to print as many as you like for school, library and personal use. Looking at this, I really want the Linzer cookie the girl is holding. Guess it’s time for a coffee/cookie break… Enjoy the card!
And if you’d like some more variety, here’s a few more Valentine’s I created for other years.
This has felt like an exceptionally long winter. It seems that way for most people? But a bright spot has been the new season of All Creatures Great and Small. The second the opening credits start, every bit of stress melts away and for 45 minutes I can escape into a story of first rate fry ups, veterinary conundrums and a world that while not perfect, feels decidedly kind and hopeful.
So I did a bit of fan art last year, and couldn’t resist another go at this season. Maybe I’ll do a bit more. Looking at you, Tricky Woo.
I’m not a genealogist, but I do love a good mystery, so every once in awhile I go through family history websites, trying to track down a few relatives. While scrolling through generations the other day, I stumbled on a distant relation with the surname, “Inkpen.” And instantly I started thinking of all sorts of stories for Inkpen, imagining his quirks (cowlicks), his qualities (punctuality) and his shortcomings (leaving almost empty bottles of milk in the icebox). He eats a cheese and pickle sandwich for lunch every day, once received a red ribbon at the county fair for his parsnips and still secretly pines after the trapeze artist who visited town thirty years ago.
And then there’s the matter of that beetle. The beetle the size of a cow, that rose up out of the barley field one night. Inkpen regrets that he did not have his camera with him that evening. Had he been in possession of said camera, he might have gone on to tour the country giving talks about giant insects, rather than typesetting agricultural advertisements.
And maybe Inkpen would have crossed paths with that trapeze artist again. Maybe.
