When stuck, try everything else.

Worst idea? Watercolor plein air in the rain. #$#&%!

Best idea? Getting Maggie and Kermit together for a picture.

Experiments to be continued.

Injured female Scarlet Tanager, rescued and released last week.

I feel a bit scatterbrained. The feeling hasn’t ceased for three weeks. Scattered and incredibly focused at the same time. Yes I just contradicted myself. Kind of. Let’s try this again.

Since the New York trip my brain has swollen four times its usual size with information

o
ver
load.

I suppose I should have expected some topsy-turviness with all the meetings of important peoples, subjecting my art to them, receiving feedback, getting lost a few times in between. I don’t know. Yesterday, glutton for critiques that I apparently am, I followed a whim and showed my work to an admissions counselor at a prominent art school in Philadelphia, took a tour of the MFA studios.

The notion occurred to me last week that I need good, solid, clear, wise direction at this juncture right here, where I am stuck on a merry-go-round between technique and voice; genre and media. I realized it’s time I seek professional help. The mentoring kind. More than a portfolio review, more than a workshop. A deep soak in a lifetime of wisdom. Like—well, just like school.

So I began with the closest, most reasonable solution: to obtain an MFA in Philadelphia, in my own familiar backyard, the backdrop of my earliest experiences in art. It was a day of dejas-vous. My first extra-curricular art classes took place when I was about 11 or 12 years old. I took the train from the suburbs to Center City on Saturdays for “gifted” type classes at Hallahan High School. Yesterday I found myself re-familiarizing myself with the same train station route I took then, remembering my Dad showing me the ropes, purposely getting me lost at Suburban Station so that I would learn to find my way out by myself (under his watchful eye). I fell in love with Philadelphia back then.

But now—things feel different. Smaller. Darker. My world is worlds larger now that I’ve crossed the hemispheres, fallen into deep blue cenotes, scaled snowcapped mountains and slid back down them. My fears have lost significance, having lost what once seemed so significant. I am much, much bigger than I was at eleven.

If I had accidentally stumbled across my eleven-year-old, portfolio toting self in that train station yesterday, what would I have told her? How would she reply?

“The best way to find your way out is to get lost for a bit.”

Last week I spent a good solid 5 days in New York City via Brooklyn—the longest I’ve ever stayed in the big, big city. I hadn’t planned it that way. The original purpose of the trip was the Illustrator’s Intensive hosted by the Metro NY chapter of SCBWI on Saturday, July 24—a plan that I almost canceled due to a death in the family. In the end, everything worked out rather miraculously and I was on my way there with plans to return Sunday.

The workshop consisted of a full day of mini-classes, both hands-on sessions and lectures. Due to a last-minute cancellation or two, I obtained a spot in award-winning illustrator Pat Cummings‘ class on storytelling, and an extra unplanned critique with art director and former Muppet builder, Laurent Linn. This and another critique by art rep Mela Bolinao were the first portfolio reviews I’ve had on this level in quite some time. Five years since a critique in Colorado and triple that since anything in NYC.

I was giddy to receive positive reactions from both reviewers, even some instant oooh’s and aaah’s but I wanted the nitty gritty. I had requested 100% honesty and I received it with gratitude. My style has changed and evolved for the better, all agreed. Awesome. However, showing multiple styles of illustration in a children’s trade picture book folio may imply weakness in consistency. It is paramount that an illustrator be able to deliver one, beautifully rendered style without deviation when assigned an entire picture book. So a style change, while good from a growth standpoint, does me no good until I prove it’s not a fluke but a regular way of working for me now.

In other words, I have work to do. And that’s ok.

After the workshop I confirmed two appointments for that coming Monday, and, thanks to ridiculously reasonable, flexible accommodations and a gracious host, I was able to extend my stay as needed. Then an angel secured me tickets for the sold-out Celebrate Brooklyn fundraiser with The National and Beach House in Prospect Park that Tuesday. Yes, amazing. With extra tickets I was able to invite and bring some of my newest contacts. I hope that I did not geek out as much as I suspect I did….. ok I’m rather certain I did. Restraint is quite impossible when something moves you, fills you up and just keeps spilling over, again and again and again. Some music just does that. As do some films, some works of art. I want to move people like that.

The events leading up to the show that night surely amplified my celebratory mood; with each day came a new experience; with every new connection a cobwebbed door cracked open, illuminating the brain dust before scattering it in a crosswind. I was alive. I am still alive. I like it.

Why didn’t I do this sooner?

Obligatory Hipstamatic Photos

A moment of vanity, brought to you by the talented Christina Kiffney.

Christina and I had scheduled a photo shoot in the Brandywine River Valley on what turned out to be a sweltering, sticky day in late June. Christina, who lives and works in Boulder, Colorado—one of my favorite towns with a much more penguin-friendly climate—happened to be traveling from New York to Washington D.C. via rail that week.

She had time enough to hop off the train in Wilmington, hoist and haul her camera equipment from Brandywine State Park on the Pennsylvania side to Brandywine Park on the Delaware side, and take 365 beautiful shots. These are some of my favorites.

This photo shoot is step two in my own big little marketing makeover. Step one included a professionally scribed biography, coming soon. There’s an abbreviated preview on my About page right now.

My goal is to more effectively package myself, accurately render my capabilities, effectively exhibit my past work and illustrate how blissful my potential clients’ lives can be should they choose to work with me.

Eh, or something like that.

You would think from the lack of activity on my own website that I’ve been lying around in my pajamas, daydreaming to sweet tunes, doodling and enjoying tea and crimpets.

That, my friends, is precisely what I’ve been doing.

(Ok well, sort of.)

My big fat project of 2009-2010 has been a CD of lullabies for children and music-appreciating not-so-grown-ups. Once a figment of an idea itching my brain, now full-blown reality, for the past 16 months “indie lullabies” have been my life. On May 15 The Line of Best Fit, Arctic Circle and American Laundromat Records celebrated the album’s release in London at a hugely successful Daylight Pyjama Party at Union Chapel with The Leisure Society and The Real Tuesday Weld performing. The event was covered in Word mag, and scores of blogs have made favorable mention of the album over the past 3 months.

Video Footage:

The Leisure Society: Inchworm at Union Chapel

Nine songs from the CD are now being played on rotation on Starbucks radio in locations spanning the globe. Kind of mind-boggling—when in London one cannot turn a corner without spotting a Starbucks. Scary, really. But anyway… I’m pretty proud of it. Can you tell?

The fantastic part about all this is that the CD is a charity album, and all sales go to a great cause. The Valerie Fund has been supporting the comprehensive treatment of children with cancer and blood disorders for over 30 years. But as a small, independent non-profit, the fund operates on a skeleton staff with fully tapped, limited resources. Non-profits such as these struggle in the same way small businesses do during times of recession, and their work is insurmountably important. The last charity compilation American Laundromat Records produced has raised over $30,000 for Casting for Recovery, and I hope that we will, at the very least, quadruple that success with “Sing Me to Sleep” and help The Valerie Fund thrive rather than survive. Each year thousands of children and their families rely on their support and care in specialty centers in hospitals across densely populated New York and New Jersey.

There’s tons more info I would love to share with you now, but I have to go return some shoes, deposit a check, and pack my bags for the weekend because Sunday is the BIG DAY, Release Party the Second, at Joe’s Pub in New York City. Come, bring your kids. Yes, even the screaming runny little ones. The event is designed specifically to delight and engage ornery minds with beauty, art and music. Plus the face-painter is one of the best in the city, and you know I am all over that.

Once this event is through, it’s back to the creative board—I have plenty of new ideas itching my brains. More on that later.

Happy weekend.
xo!

Long time no update—so it goes when you’re this busy. If you’re a friend on Facebook or Twitter you already know what I’m talking about. Sing Me to Sleep – Indie Lullabies is at last a reality. A real, tangible, physical piece of art and music that was once just a figment of my imagination. The album officially releases worldwide on May 18, but pre-orders began shipping 2 weeks ago.

Let the parties begin.

Release Party the First. London.

Next week we will celebrate the CD’s official release with a Daylight Pyjama Party, presented by Arctic Circle, American Laundromat Records and Union Chapel in London. That’s right, far across the sea in a quaint little church. Not only that, but England’s darlings The Leisure Society, and antique beat setters The Real Tuesday Weld will perform their lullabies from the album, alongside original material. AND it’s free. FREE! And you can bring your kids. In fact, please do. And dress them in their jammies, because it is, after all, a lullaby CD and a pyjama party (that’s how they spell it over there in the old world. Or so they tell me).

Very heartfelt thanks to my very good friends at The Line of Best Fit whose enthusiasm for this project has made the entire event possible. Great music blog. Go read it for days.

Release Party the Second. New York.

So as if that’s not enough. On Sunday, June 13, the legendary Tanya Donelly, the lovely Jenny Owen Youngs and the fearless Julie Peel will perform another all-ages matinée at Joe’s Pub in New York City. You may remember Tanya from 90’s chart-toppers, Belly. Or from the earlier days of the Breeders. Or Throwing Muses. Tanya has enjoyed a solo career since all these, and her cover of “Moon River” is a delightfully soft representation of her singer/songwriter work.

Again, kids are welcome to attend in their pajamas, and if they do, they leave with a little prize.

Representatives and friends of our charity, The Valerie Fund, will be in attendance at both events.

And so will I. With bells on.

But do I dare show up in my pjs?

Freshly inspired and injected with creative energy from the SCBWI Mid-Winter Conference in NYC, I return to the most urgent task at hand—artwork for the cover of the nifty 7″ vinyl record that will accompany the special limited edition pre-order package of Sing Me to Sleep – Indie Lullabies. The project has officially been leaked to the indie music media, and we have received some early blurbs from Pitchfork, CHARTattack, TwentyFourBit, top-40charts.com, Avopolis Music Network and wearsthetrousers.com. We leaked a free download of Dean & Britta’s track, “Making Me Smile” to Muruch and there is already a fan video on YouTube.

That made me smile. :’)

When the 7″ art is complete I’ll move on to the CD cover art, continue planning release parties in May, and recruit some of my favorite fellow illustrators to create poster art for individual songs from the album. My plan is to have the posters available for sale at the release parties and online, and then, gathered printed in an anthology of lullabies in picture book format. Sound cool or what?

January, January, January. My birth month seems more like my birthing month this year. I cannot keep up. Both of my babies—”Time to Fly” and “Sing Me to Sleep”—require equal attention right now. They stay up late and disturb my sleep every night. When the sun rises they rub the dreams from their eyes, pout their rosy red lips and howl until I change and feed them. Needy little twins, they are, this CD cover, that picture book. They don’t care how much sleep I have, or lack.

But they are my children, and I love them.