"Lentil" by Robert McCloskey

 This is the third in my series of children's books that inspired me...
 
Robert McCloskey was born on September 15, 1914 in Hamiltion, Ohio. He is best known for creating such children's masterpieces as "Make Way for Ducklings" and "Blueberries For Sal". But it was this book "Lentil", his first book as author and illustrator, that first caught my attention as a youngster.

 McCloskey had such command of his artistry, his pen and ink work was remarkable! There was no need for color with pen skills like this.  As a child, I was drawn to the exaggerated expressions shown on the faces and in the body language of his characters, they nearly jumped from the pages of his books. There was such fluidity to his drawings, they had a rhythm and motion all there own...I found them to be utterly fascinating. There is a certain sense of timelessness that black and white illustrations can evoke, a feeling I tried to capture in my first book "I Hear the Wind". I wasn't sure if I had the patience to do all the illustrations in pen and ink like I first envisioned, so I rendered them in black and white acrylic paints. I was happy with the results!

"LENTIL" is set in the fictional small town of Alto, Ohio. (Which was loosely based on McCloskey's own hometown) The story involves a boy named Lentil who, because he could not sing or whistle, learns to play the harmonica. One day the town started to buzz with word that Colonel Carter, the town’s most famous former citizen, would be returning. Everyone was happy about this except Old Sneep, who was a very bitter and despicable sort of character.

All kinds of festivities were planned to welcome Colonel Carter home, including a brass band which would greet him at the train. When the train finally arrived, the only sound heard in the town was the sound of Old Sneep sucking on a lemon!  The old man knew this would make the musicians pucker up and be unable to play their instruments. A very confused and disappointed Colonel Carter stepped off the train, where was the great fanfare he expected? Not effected by the sound of the slurping Sneep, Lentil puckered up, blew on his harmonica, and filled the air with lively music! The story ends with Colonel Carter and the rest of the town continuing the celebration... even to the delight of Old Sneep!

Robert McCloskey died on June 30, 2003. He was a master of illustration. I will forever be inspired by his work and his contribution to the world of children's literature.

"Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak

Ah yes...books that inspired me, part 2. This one is pretty obvious, in fact, I'm sure 99.9% of all the folks of my age group will list this one somewhere on their all time list of favorites. Hey, what's not to like?!  

Released in 1963, this book revolutionized children's picture books. But the literary establishment of the day was not quite ready for this revolution it seems...the book was banned by many school libraries and at first dismissed by the critics. But somewhere along the line, someone in the establishment realized, "Wow! The kids really seem to like this funny little book about monsters."  Apparently opinions changed in the literary world..."Where the Wild Things Are" was awarded the Caldecott Award for the best illustrated children's book for 1964 and has gone on to be one of the most popular and iconic children's books of all time.

 As a child, I was mesmerized by this book. Maurice Sendak's illustrative style was so original and amazing. His use of line is so lyrical as it flows effortlessly across the page. I remember being impressed by his use of pen and ink, of how he as able to achieve such depth and fullness in his characters using a simple art pen and watercolors. His intricate use of detail is what inspired me to draw, his vivid imagination inspired me to see things in a different way.

Most children can see a little of themselves in Max, the main character in this book. Sometimes our playfulness could get a little out of hand, sometimes we needed a time out to settle us down...but what happens during that time out is left up to our imaginations. But in the end, after all our bad behavior, we would still be welcomed back home with our supper waiting for us...and it will still be hot.

"So What the Hell am I REALLY Doing?"

So here we are...starting a whole new year! Full of new energy and positive ideals, ready to make a change for the better!!!!!!!!!!  Yeah really.....

So what the hell am I really trying to do? What am I trying to accomplish with my small time book career? Why do I keep doing what I do? Obviously it's not the money. God KNOWS it's not the money. One of the first things I ever learned about children's book publishing is that if you're doing it for the money...DON'T DO IT!!

My third book was released last fall to not a whole lot of pomp and circumstance. No release parties, no book signings, not a whole lot of anything. Truth is, I really am tired of trying to be my own publicist. My publishing company really doesn't do much in terms of advertising or promotion, they never really have, most of the time I'm just happy that they want to publish my stuff.  But after years of trying to chase down reviews for my books and trying to get some book signings going, I've realized it's just a bunch of hard work...and I'm just feeling tired. What ever happened to the joy of creating? What ever happened to having time to do it? Why did I get into this in the first place?

...and so I've started working on a new book. 

I have no idea of whether or not my current publisher is even going to continue releasing new material or is even interested in this book. I'm not all that sure of what their business plan is since one of the owners passed away last summer. His wife is continuing with the business, but I'm not really sure if her heart is into it anymore. I'm really not at liberty to be making a lot of assumptions on this situation I suppose, I just have this gut feeling that a change is in the works...and I may not be included in this change.

I guess I'm just doing it because I want to.

The story itself has been written and revised a couple times, fact is, I wrote this little ditty  several years ago. I've always liked this story and decided to bring it back to life, it seemed like the right time to do it. I have no deadline this time, I have no expectations of what it should or shouldn't be...I'm just trying to make the most of what I have to work with. 

Now I'm into the illustration mode. I'm dusting off an old, incomplete dummy I made of this book and am reinventing my vision of this story. The dummy I made was pretty limited, but it did have some good illustration ideas that I am now expanding on.  I've decided to try to be more inventive with this story, and I've decided to be more patient. I must admit that my artistic skills are quite good, but must also admit that as an artist I'm rather lazy. Sometimes getting from the inspiration stage to the completion stage can be a struggle...who am I kidding...it's always a struggle!! The urge to get it over with is overwhelming when you have limited time to begin with. Sometimes I feel that if I don't get it done within a certain amount of time, it will never get done. So I slap dash everything together at the last minute or go the easy route illustration wise.  Being an artist doesn't give you the magical power to simply create perfection at the snap of your fingers, it's mostly a lot of time consuming work. Not that I don't enjoy it mind you, it just takes time, time that you sometimes don't have. 

So that is why I'm closing, because I've spent way too much time on this here blog thing today. Too much time venting about things most people could really give a damn about...too much time wasted on being noticed.

Sorry if this wasn't the optimistic message you expected.  I guess I could whip up some satisfying and uplifting ending to this post...but I don't think I have time for that.

"A New Years Wish"

 

Wishing you and yours a healthy and prosperous New Year!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!!!!!

"The Snowy Day" by Ezra Jack Keats

 I've been thinking a lot lately about inspiration, things that left an indelible mark on my memories, things that inspired me to create. I really hadn't realized it until after my second book, "Still (A Winter's Journey)", was in print as to how much it parallels this book..."The Snowy Day" by Ezra Jack Keats.


I really don't remember how old I was when I first got this book. I do remember being in grade school at St. Mary's in Morris, MN when I got it, and I remember getting it through Scholastic Books.  Getting the flimsy, tissue paper thin Scholastic Books order form in school was a monumental moment for me as a child. 

Being able to pick out a new book was something magical and rare...there weren't exactly a ton of book stores out there on the windswept prairie back in the late 1960's!  But I remember what caught my attention from all the other tiny little book pictures in that circular was the cover. There was something about that little boy in the red snowsuit that peaked my interest.

The story centers around a little boy named Peter who wakes up one morning to find that it has snowed overnight! His normally dirty inner city world has turned into a winter wonderland and he sets out to explore and have an adventure. First he builds a snowman, then makes snow angels, climbs a snow mountain, makes patterns in the snow with a stick...he generally makes the most of this snowy day. Later that night, he dreams that the sun has come out and melted all the wonderful snow! But much to his relief it was only a dream and a fresh layer of snow greets him the next morning!

 Ezra Jack Keats used a technique of mixing opaque watercolor with paper collage to create incredibly expressive yet simple illustrations. His use of color was remarkable! The vibrant red of Peter's snowsuit against the wintry landscape and the crystal clear blue sky is so striking. And the snow was not white... it was a kaleidoscope of muted blues, purples and pinks. 

This deceptively simple story has a lot to say. It does what every good picture book should do, it transports the reader and listener into a special world created by the author and once there, he lets you follow Peter through his snowy adventure. 

This book reminds me that I have much to learn about story telling and illustrating, sometimes I need to learn when to stop telling and start showing. 

So that is the story of Ezra Jack Keats "The Snowy Day". If you haven't already enjoyed this book,  I urge you to go out and purchase a copy for yourself to share with a special child in your life. And while you're at it...purchase a copy of one of my books as well!!!  Just kidding!...but seriously if you feel compelled to do so, it would be greatly appreciated!! No pressure...really.

Take care
Greg

"Reflections on a Brown Christmas"

An  illustration from "Still (A Winter's Journey)"

This is as close to a wintry scene as we have had here in the upper Midwest...not exactly the stuff of  Bing Crosby legend!

A part of me, the sentimental, romantic side of me, missed the atmospheric wonder and soft holiday glow that the snow provided as a backdrop to the season. The other part of me, the jaded, realistic side, thoroughly enjoyed not having to shovel it or drive through it every morning on the way to work. I was in heaven!!

It seems the artist and writer in me, the part of me most connected to the carefree days of childhood, yearned for the snow. Visions of frosted window panes and snowflakes like goose down ran endlessly through my mind. That part of me wanted to be immersed in the solitude of the new fallen snow...but it seems that part of me doesn't reside within me like it used to.

Blame it on age, life, lack of free time...well, free time away from dozing in the recliner. Sometimes what ambition and energy I do muster, I need to focus on trying to accomplish all the other endless chores I've let pile up around here. I seem to no longer have time to be childlike anymore, and that's rather sad to admit.

 And so we embrace our brown Christmas, we take it for all it's worth and enjoy the fact that our outdoor decorations won't be frozen into the ground until sometime in March. And besides...we can always dream for next year!

"At Christmas Time"

As a child, before the world became complicated, I remember Christmas as a season of lights in the darkness.

I woke up early that morning tucked deeply beneath the warm familiar blankets on my bed, I was lost in a world of half dreams. I could see the warm glow of Christmas lights reflecting through the lacy patterns of frost on my bedroom window, I thought of everything and nothing all at the same time. I was six years old and it was the morning of Christmas Eve Day!

If I close my eyes now as a worn and somewhat jaded adult, I can still see and feel those images of Christmas. The warm and magical glow of colored lights against the cold, empty darkness of December. As I lay there, I remember hearing the soft sounds of holiday music as it crackled through the speakers of the old AM radio down in the kitchen. The tune was so sweet and familiar...but now has been lost to my memory. I stepped from my bedroom and into the hallway, up the stairwell the soft radiance of red and green shimmered from the lighted tree down in the living room, my mom always made sure that the Christmas tree was lit first thing in the morning. Framed against the grey blue morning outside, the tree was a beacon of Christmas! It was a symphony of red, green, blue and gold as the strands of long silvery tinsel reflected and danced with the colors of the lights. Time worn glass blown ornaments gleamed like priceless trophies against the needles of the majestic evergreen. I could scarcely speak as I was mezmerized by the all encompassing, Christmas celebrating beauty of it all.

As the years passed and the magic of Santa sadly faded away, I remember going for walks in the muted blue grey shadows of dusk to see the neighborhood lights. I saw rows and rows of lighted roof lines and scattered illuminated trees, plastic Santa's and snowmen seemed to march through the yards, each one calling out "Merry Christmas!" I could see the trees inside the houses glowing warmly and brightly, wreaths and bells and candles and holly...the air itself seemed to glow with the colors of Christmas. And then I would pass a lighted nativity, the solemn silent figures stood in reverence through the dark and lonely night...waiting for the star to shine again.

Now as I am older, I still look for the lights of Christmas. We take our children out for rides to see the magic and listen to the music, each of us remembering these things in our own different ways. Sometimes we run so fast at this time of year we forget to look, we forget to dream, we forget to remember. We forget the magic we once all had inside us...and we forget to look for the lights of Christmas.

See the lights? There are always lights at Christmas. Shining through the windows, there above the stable. Silent Night. The dreams we have at Christmas will always shine within us like lights against the darkness...at Christmas time.