On Monday, March 25th (at 3 pm Eastern/12 pm West coast) all fifteen of the new original paintings will be posted for sale in my shop! Each is framed in one of my very favorite golden frames. And they're all so at home together it'll be hard to split them up.
The way my updates work is this: I'll post all the new paintings at the time above (here's a time zone converter, if you want to check what time that works out to be for you.) My original work often sells within hours or days - sometimes minutes! I can't reserve original work, so if there's one you have your eye on, it's best to come at the time of the update.
I hope this is helpful! And please feel free to email with any questions.
Hooray! Thanks for all the kind words about this work. And thank you (always) for visiting here.
This is the last little painting to sneak into this collection of pieces. A dapper little beekeper!
I'm nearly done framing all the paintings, and nearly ready to announce a time & date for the update (when all of the originals will be posted for sale.) I've been getting so many inquiries about this new work (thank you!) so watch right here for the update announcement in the next day or so. If you're not familiar with how I post my original work for sale, I'll let you know exactly how it works.
And thank you also for the awfully kind comments about Dream Animals! It's so nice to start talking about the book and to see excitement start building beyond the small team of us who worked on it.
I was thinking I'd wait a bit before I posted the cover here, but lately the book keeps popping up here and there (the Publisher's Weekly Fall Previews, plus it's pre-orderable at Amazon & B&N!) These little hints decided it was time.
Dream Animals is, as the subtitle suggests, a bedtime journey (or series of journeys, really.) In it, a new dream-myth is born, and animals as old as time (and dreams themselves) carry each small dreamer to their own particular (and spectacular) dream.
You can catch a glimpse of one interior illustration by following the Publisher's Weekly link, but I wish I could share it all! Waiting to share more of the insides (and waiting for people to be able to hold the real, bound books) is so hard. This is my third time at this particular kind of rodeo, and I feel more impatient than ever. I think it's because I'm so terribly excited about the October release of Dream Animals and it makes me quite rabbity and twitchy to wait.
I can't wait to share more, more, more as October draws closer! * Furred, or finned, or feathered...your dream animal is waiting. *
Out of the Woods, or How We Quit The Forest 11"x14"x1" Acrylic on wood
There are many reasons for the girl and the creatures to pack their bags
and go, but I can't imagine any reason good enough to leave the woods
unless under you were in serious danger or distress.
How We Quit The Forest is the name of a favorite album of mine, and I'd been thinking of a loosely related painting for years and years (though what happens in the song is mostly between an ostrich & an egret and doesn't have too much to do with this picture at all.)
Of course, this painting will be part of the big update of original work happening in the next few weeks. And it's the title piece - I think Out of the Woods is a good title for a collection of paintings like these, about the wild & the ordinary intertwining.
Be assured, I'll let you know the exact time & date as soon as I'm able!
Is there a more endearing instrument than the mandolin? In college, my friend picked up a hitchhiker and I wasn't sure it was really such a good idea. Then I saw his mandolin, and thought - well, how bad can he be? It wasn't my decision anyway, so I also thought: lemons/lemonade.
(It all turned out fine, by the way, but I do strongly advise against young girls picking up stray, rambling men, regardless of what instrument they play.)
Happy weekend - I hope yours is a nice one!
PS: The new work will be available very soon - thank you for all your emails & questions about them. I need to finish up a few things & frame the paintings, but I'll post a time & date for the update soon!
killed Cock Robin?
"I," said the Sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin."
The Death of Cock Robin 14"x11"x1" Acrylic on wood
I love the famous (and excellently macabre) nursery rhyme Who Killed Cock Robin. There are a lot of variations and expansions on it, too, and many illustrated little books of the story from the 19th and early 20th century from dozens of different illustrators.
No matter how many exist, I think (because I'm crazy for Mr. Potter) that the most grand and beautiful illustration of the poem is the Walter Potter tableau.
I'd really like to do an expanded Cock Robin series some day, but for now, this is my imagining of the last lines (my favorite part):
All the birds of the air
Fell sighing and sobbing,
When the heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.
Thank you for all of your kind words about the new paintings! See you soon with a few more before this series draws to a close.
First, I have to confess to a hopeless crush on old-fashioned boxers (ie: Ron Swanson's steakhouse poster
is one of my favorite things about Parks & Recreation.)
Secondly, I am a known bear-fan, so there we have it: two loves in
The last week has been very wonderful and very busy and otherworldly: I had a pie-party, left my twenties behind, and visited Snow White.
Now I'm setting back to work at finishing the handful of paintings left to complete this series. When they're ready, I'll be having an enormous update with over a dozen new paintings and possibly/probably some other treasures.
Are you in need of an eleventh-hour Valentine? I made these to use as my own personal cards this year, and I thought it would be nice to share them here! You can use them as-is with vermilion hearts, or you can go a little glitter-crazy on the hearts like I did (I used five different kinds from the big Martha set.)
My favorite thing about these is the little bit of room for personalization. Within the name banners, of course, but also re: glitter choice. The warm silver glitter had a lovely old-timey effect, while classic red was so exuberant and, well, classic.
And even if you don't glitterize them, I think they're sweet just as they are (as seen in the first photo.) I printed mine on 4"x6" cream-colored postcard stock.
Common Black Squirrel with Ribbon 8"x10" Acrylic on wood
A dapper little squirrel (I love black squirrels, they seem so otherworldly) and a couple of portraits I'm really excited about coming up! I'm in such a work-mode that it's hard for me to tear myself away for anything, even scanning & sharing the paintings.
Bess, Maude, Frances, Matilda & Maryanne 14"x11"1" Acrylic on wood
Another new painting - five little friends masqurading in five different disguises.
I have just had a really nice couple of days! My children's book editor
(who I love) came to visit, and we went to a few of my favorite haunts and
talked endlessly about books and not-books. It was so lovely & a nice excuse to take
a work break/painting break (I need an excuse, or I will squirrel
myself away for days and days.)
I'm more excited than ever about my first picture book's release, and about beginning work on the next one. I cannot wait to share more of everything - more news and (most importantly!) more pictures!
And thank you for all the kind words about these new paintings! I love how this strange little collection is coming along.
I love how simple and still this ursine girl portrait is. This is another new painting from this series of wild things and mild-mannered things masquerading and creatures who might not be what they seem.
I've been hard at work on this new work for a little while now, and there's a not-unsizeable stack of pictures ready to be shared. More portraits, but scenes, too.
I promise it's not all bears. (But there are a lot of bears.)
I've been making paintings and being very hermitty and that feels very right in the dark cold of January.
Ursa Minor is part of a series of work that has begun coming together rather organically. It's one of those things that might result in 10 pieces, or 15, or...? There's not much lovelier than when a bunch of pictures swimming in my head start to tell some kind of story together.
This particular story seems to be about the wild and ordinary intermingling, the woods and the domestic all woven together.
I'll take you further & further into the story as the paintings come along!
On my less-industrious days, I think Miette is the sanest person I know.
Costantly burrowing into blanket-nests and staying there in a quiet decadence. I would say this expression is Classic Miette - begrumped and
disdainful and ferociously protective of his coziness.
What all of this has to do with the New Year, I don't know.
But I'm looking very forward to it, for lots of reasons. One is simply that I can be a little numerically superstitious & it includes one of my favorite numbers (lucky 13) and besides, I vastly prefer odd numbers to evens any day.
Another is that I have some exciting things happening this year: a solo show and a picture book coming out, and lots of personal work and another picture book to make. I look out on the expanse of the months ahead, and they already feel very busy and full. It's lovely to have a million things you want to make and only be hindered by the time it takes to make them (given that you can carve out the time, that is.) I think 2013 will be a year like that.
I don't make proper New Year's resolutions because I am in a state of making vows & making changes (secret & known, big & little) no matter the time of year. Then I sink or swim accordingly. And beneath those, running like ribbon in the background, I have general, everyday resolutions. Sometimes I can't sleep for reminding myself: To work hard. To forge ahead. To be kind. To remain curious.
I usually buy a wreath when we buy our tree (last year it was made of dozens of rosehips and so pretty.) But this year, since we live in the shadows of firs & cedars, and I couldn't stop thinking about Amy's beautifully disheveled wreaths, I thought I'd gather things and attempt my own.
I made it in the midst of the the busiest time of year for us - a span of a few weeks in which nothing remotely festive will happen if you don't fight for it, tooth & nail (I know lots of you can relate.) I laid down some kraft paper, hauled in my branches & berries, made some hot chocolate (gifted from one of my favorite girls), put on the Charlie Brown Christmas album, and wreathed myself into oblivion.
I didn't have anything to use as a base, so it was a tricky proposition (my first two attempts ended up being repurposed as lengths of garland.) Finally, though, I had something close to what I had imagined - a cheerily unkempt little wreath. I love how un-fussy it is, without trading exuberance -- I cannot do austere Christmas, no sir.
Now it's keeping company with lots of white lights, and the failed attempts & the little nicks on my hands were worth it. Just making it was a small gift in this mad-house time of year. And now I know a little more about making things with green things, which is always good.
PS: Thank you so very much for all of those overwhelmingly kind and generous comments & notes re: my XOXO talk! It makes me feel all the better about gathering my courage to do it.
When Andy (one of the two organizers, both people named Andy) asked me to speak at the first ever XOXO conference, my first instinct was to say something along the lines of: "Um, geez, you got the wrong girl. Thank you sir, but no."
I've never spoken to a group larger than a few dozen people, and truthfully, I was just very concerned that I wouldn't have anything of value or general usefulness to say to the (formidable) audience/attendees.
"I'm not really a speaker" I said. "I'm afraid I won't have anything interesting, never mind inspiring to tell them."