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I went to Memphis, my hometown, for the month September, 2016, with a sketchbook and a commitment to do a lot of drawings.  I’d hoped to draw all my friends, but instead drew whatever struck my fancy.

Keeping a visual journal isn’t always as accurate or even as chronological as taking photographs, but it’s more fun.  I used a Canson XL sketchbook, a set of watercolors, pencils, sharpie and various colored ink pens.  Several of the drawings became paintings and I had to finish them up when I returned to my home-base in Portland, Oregon.

I worked on the journal title page as the month went by:

I picked up a ginkgo leaf in the Cooper Young area of mid-town Memphis.  On that same day, writer Julius Lester posted a quote of the day on his facebook page that seemed appropriate.  I taped the ginkgo leaf in my journal and then painted it.

The first full day there, my Memphis sister-friend and host Judy took me to see the play The Devil’s Music: The Life and Blues of Bessie Smith, presented by the Hattiloo Theatre, staring Samantha Lynn Miller.  I was immediately submersed  in Delta music and culture in the best way possible.  I drew and painted this portrait of Bessie Smith from the photograph of her on the program:

I celebrated my birthday in September, and a dear friend got me a small box of truffles from the famed chocolatier Phillip Ashley, as well as macaroons — little tastes of heaven.

I got to Memphis in time for the Mid-South Festival of the Book.  It opened with a wonderful mixed art event, Words Matter, that combines, literature, dance, and visual art.  I saw a bass player in a red cape, I later learned he was the musician Juju Bushman.  In my imagination and in my journal I just painted him as the bringer of delight:

For the weekend, I was overwhelmed by how many great writers I needed to read.  My notes from one of the panels:

I got a special treat when Mary Jo Karimnia took me to see her show, Folds, at the Dixon Gallery in Memphis.  She’s a moving force in the Memphis art scene and is part of the exciting Crosstown Arts community that is developing creative programs, and breaking down barriers in the arts.  She was the one friend I got to draw — I got her permission to post my bad drawing of her — I hope I captured her color and energy and humor:

She let me go to her studio, and I was able to spend some time copying one of her designs for paintings that she’s doing that combine origami, painting and seed beads.

You can check out more of her art here.

I got to cat sit two lovely and formidable kitties while Judy traveled:

Judy has a great collection of art and African masks.  I got a chance to capture 3 of them:

I also painted this serene sculpture I’ve loved for years by Lester Jones, a Raku artist, from Bartlett, Tennessee:

My friend Judith brought me a bouquet of basil and zinnias.  She rode over on a bike, and used green tomatoes from the University of Memphis community garden to weigh down the bouquet in the vase:

Judy inherited a blue metal porch chair from a friend in New Orleans who was moving.  Her porch is a perfect place for it to land:

I decided to make porch a verb.  I spent a lot of time reading and porching:

It was a great trip.  One of the things I had to do while I was there, was sort out some emotions over my recent divorce.  Even when a divorce is the best thing, it changes your identity and you have to figure out who you are again.  I had a few days of depression and some cathartic crying.  After that, I was rewarded with a big sinus headache:

But then, with fresh eyes, I looked at all the wonder around me, all the good friends — all the art, color, and stories — and I felt better:

So now I’m back in Portland, the rainy and reading season is starting.  It’s time to start up my blog again.  Expect lots of book reviews, thoughts on art, and slices of life.

Thanks for reading!

I’ve so enjoyed being a part of the Children’s Book Week Champions this week.  It’s a delight to share my thoughts on children’s books and find out what books others are excited about.  I’ve particularly enjoyed reading books from the Children’s Choice Book Awards.  You can find the winners here.  Congratulations to all the great authors who have been chosen by children as the best.  I’m behind on that reading list, but that’s the nice thing about a book – they wait patiently until you can get to them.

This year I turned fifty-five and was delighted to receive several picture books for my birthday:  The Rules of Summer by Shaun Tan, Hug Me by Simona Ciraolo, and Zen Socks by Jon Muth.  I treasured each of these gifts as much as any child would.

I live in a community centered around children.  Bridge Meadows is an intentional community set up to support families adopting children out of the foster care system, and to give seniors a sense of purpose.  I help introduce the delights of reading books to children ages 2 to 13.

But even before I lived here, I read children’s books as often as I read adult books.  I understand the delineation between adult books and children’s books, but to me, if it’s a good story, it’s a good story no matter what age it’s recommended for.  I’m pretty sure all books are recommended for me.

It’s all part of my love of story and art.  In picture books I’ve always found stories with humor and hope.  The illustrations are often breathtaking and I find some of the most moving art in pictures books.  From the classics like Edward Ardizzone and Trina Schart Hyman to the newer masters like David Weisner, Shaun Tan, and Emily Hughes, I find much depth in the way illustrations can express what is impossible to say.  Some of our finest living artist work in picture books.  They illuminate meaning and bring a sense of wonder to life.

In her book The Sense of Wonder, Rachel Carson said, “A child’s world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood. If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantment of later years…the alienation from the sources of our strength.”

I grew up in a broken home.  My life was dimmed by the influence of alcoholism, drug addiction, cruelty and poverty.  My refuge was always books.  I was a regular library user from first grade til today.  I went through a brief period during my teens and early 20s when I didn’t read picture books and story books, but as soon as I had kids at age 23 I was hooked again.  My children outgrew picture books, but I kept reading them.

They are that “unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantment” of adulthood.  In the past few decades, I’ve seen the world of children’s books expand in all directions.  Printing a book is still an expensive endeavor, but there are fewer gate keepers and more kinds of independent presses.  There are ways for self-published authors and artists to find an audience.  The themes explored in children’s and young adult books have opened up.  And, even though there’s a huge dystopian market in young adult books, there are also books for teens that explore ways of healing and rediscovering hope.  A child who finds out another person has suffered abuse is a child less isolated.  There is hope out there on the fringes of even the grimmest stories.

In my deepest heart, I believe it’s been the power of stories that has allowed me to rise about all the challenges that life has thrown at me.  I’ve been laid low many times, but part of recovery has always been reading.  I don’t think I would be as alert to wonder, to the beauty of nature, or to the value of friends without that regular injection of children’s books.

In stories, there’s often a rule of three.  Three challenges are overcome before the ending.  While I know there aren’t happy endings to every story, I’ve learned that the unhappy ending may be just another plot point, I haven’t reached the end of the story.  And when I do reach the ultimate end, I may fly away and live like a song on the wind.

I recently wrote this post on the book Cry, Heart, but Never Break by Glenn Ringtved and illustrated by Charlotte Pardi.

It quickly became one of my most shared blog posts.  I’m sharing here again for those of you who are new followers or are reading this because of Children’s Book Week.  It’s a perfect example of how reading children’s books keeps my sense of wonder alive and helps me deal with very adult situations.:

Convergence: Grief, Books, Life

I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading my blog.

This post is a part of Children’s Book Week, May 2 – 8.  I’m posting on children’s books every day this week.  To find more great children’s books, check out the Children’s Book Week website.  They have a list of events going on all over the country, maybe one near you.  You can find links to their facebook and twitter pages there, too.

Here are links to the first 4 posts of the week:

Monday: The Thing About Jellyfish by Ali Benjamin

Tuesday:  I’m Trying to Love Spiders by Bethany Barton

Wednesday:  Flying in Our Imagination

Thursday:  Butterflies and Robots