Posts from the “Uncategorized” Category

the only one (I think)

Posted on July 23, 2017

Several years ago, some friends and I came upon a kilt-maker at a street fair in Stratford, Ontario. He made his kilts on a solar-powered sewing machine. One of the models he offered was a kilt made of hemp. He said that he was almost certain that at that moment in time, he was the only person in the world making kilts out of hemp. He was probably right.

I remember thinking how very few things we could say that about — that we are the only person in the world doing that thing. But maybe it just depends on how specific we get. This morning, I finished this illustration of raccoons eating a bag of mints on the carpet of the clubhouse of an abandoned golf course, and I thought to myself, I bet I am the only person who has ever made a drawing of this particular subject.

I could be wrong.

The drawing is for a chapter book that will be out next year. It’s not about raccoons, it’s about sisters. I have about a zillion drawings (okay, maybe 2 dozen) to make in the next couple of weeks. Wish me luck.

Categories: Uncategorized

nice bugs

Posted on May 31, 2017

“. . . they curled together like spoons, snug as two bugs in a rug. Not pinchy bugs. Nice bugs. The nicest bugs ever.”

I just finished this illustration for a chapter book I’m working on. I’ve been having fun making drawings where physical reality shares the stage with imagination and ideas.

In this case, I had to think what would come across as a “nice bug.” It could have been a lot of things. I settled on some dragonfly-type wings.

What is your favorite bug?

Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged: illustrating imaginary things, nice bugs, snuggling

hats for science

Posted on March 12, 2017

I’m planning the hat I’m going to make and wear at the March for Science in Washington, D.C., on April 22. My friend Kate, a costume designer for theater, is making a solar system hat that lights up. It will probably be amazing. I saw a picture of a boy, on the internet, who had also made a solar system hat. His was pretty spectacular, too:

As for my own ideas, some of them have been fairly simple. Like a windmill hat, for renewable energy research:

And some have been perhaps a little too complicated. This well-known wood engraving (called “the Flammarion engraving) by an unknown artist, has often been used as a metaphor for the search for knowledge, scientific or mystical:

The hat I envisioned:

This Scherenschnitte (paper cut) by Swiss artist Susanne Schlapfer-Geiser:

struck me as wonderful inspiration for a hat about biodiversity. It’s even the right shape, with or without the Noah’s Ark on top.

Consider diatoms:

Or the Crochet Coral Reef Project:

So many inspirations. The possibilities are endless. But I have to get started, so I have to pick one. I have decided on Viruses that Usually Don’t Kill Us Anymore, Because, SCIENCE!

It will be embellished with models of these viruses, rather than flowers or fruit or birds. Here, for example, is the smallpox virus:

Why am I doing this ridiculous project?

In my picture book, Frank and Lucky Get Schooled, I wrote that “Science is when you wonder about something, so you observe it and ask questions about it and try to understand it.” I think this is not completely unrelated to what artists and writers do. I saw a Venn diagram on the internet where the intersection of Art and Science was Wonder, and I think that’s so.

I feel a deep and shared concern when scientists’ work is dismissed, when their freedom of inquiry and freedom to communicate what they have learned is threatened. When I take a pill or undergo a surgery or step onto an airplane, I want that pill or surgery or airplane to be the result of science. I don’t care whether the scientists involved are great guys or gals to have a beer with, though the ones I know are.

I support them in the evidence-based and peer-reviewed work they do, that benefits us all. And I want to support them in their March.

But why hats? They’re easy to see in a crowd, for one thing. And it’s easier to wear a hat than to carry a sign all day. But also, I think that a little joie de vivre and a sense of humor can make a difference. There may even be beauty involved, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

If you want to participate, and need some inspiration just google “amazing hats,” or “fabulous hats,” etc. And show up at 10 a.m. near the sculpture in the plaza near 801 Pennsylvania Avenue NW.

And as a bonus, here’s a bacteriophage:

UPDATE!!!!!

Here is how my hat turned out:

And here I am with a kindred spirit at the March for Science in D.C.:

Hey — just got a photo of the hat my friend Kate made for her daughter Lydia to wear to the march: a solar system.

Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged: art and science, artists hats, march for science, science hats

plot diagrams I have known

Posted on January 11, 2017

A couple of weeks ago, while writing a chapter, it came to me that I wanted the chapter to go, rise, rise, rise, kaBOOM! Like a balloon that keeps rising, and then pops:

A few years ago, while working on As Easy As Falling Off the Face of the Earth, a novel, I pictured the various strands starting out all neat and orderly, then veering off, “every one in his own way,” before coming together neatly again at the end:

There is a project on my back burner that seems to me to be a navigation through/over/around a constellation of bumps. Or, wait — are some of them craters?

Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged: diagrams about writing, plot diagrams, writing

merry holidays to all!

Posted on December 14, 2016

Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged: friends, holidays, warmth in winter, winter

because, research!

Posted on November 15, 2016

I’ve been working for a while on some stories about a girl named Alix. Back in August, Alix did something embarrassing. It wasn’t something terrible, it was kind of funny, really, but she was embarrassed and she didn’t know what to do, so she went into the closet and sat there in the corner for awhile. A long while.

I didn’t have to research how it feels to be embarrassed, because I already knew. I had plenty of experience. I think that’s why both the words and the drawing flowed right out of me.

But a few weeks ago, Alix (to my surprise) found herself about to have an encounter with an injured peregrine falcon. I realized I was going to have to learn some stuff. I went to visit my local raptor rehabilitator* to get educated.

I learned how an injured bird, when first brought in, is swaddled in a blanket while it is weighed, given fluids, and so on. At this time, a visitor, a child even, might be asked to hold the swaddled-up bird for five minutes or so. It’s safe.

I didn’t hold a swaddled-up bird, but an unswaddled falcon sat on my gloved hand and pulled chunks of bird meat from between my gloved fingers:

I watched a convalescing bald eagle fly across the aviary, and I watched a snowy owl spin its head around backwards. I learned a lot. Then I came home and worked on my picture and my story.

They say we should write what we know, but it doesn’t have to be something we’ve known forever. We can keep learning.

*(a big p.s.: my local raptor rehabilitator is Rebecca Lessard, founder and director of Wings of Wonder, a raptor sanctuary and rehabilitation center that has rehabilitation and education as its primary mission. For more information on Wings of Wonder, aka W.O.W., go here. I am so grateful to her for generously sharing her time and her expertise. There are a number of places like this around the country. Maybe there is one near you. Search “raptor rehabilitation + (your state).” )

Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged: research, write what you know

postcards from a summer night

Posted on August 6, 2016

In yards everywhere, fires in fire rings of one kind or another. A fire to look at, people to look at it with, a refreshing bevvie, a bag of chips. Wealth beyond compare.

Just before total darkness, Hazel and I walked down to the boat launch. The snake undulated across the dock in front of us, then kept on undulating, transitioning soundlessly from undulating on sun-warmed wood to undulating across the surface of the cool water. Forgive me for using “undulating” words four times in a row; it’s the only word that describes what we saw there.

Walking up the street in the darkness, the first halo of headlights coming up the other side of the hill illuminated a billion insects. Who knew the air was so thick with bugs? Sometimes the sun slants into your window and lights up every speck of dust hanging there, and you think, how are we unaware of that most of the time? How do we breathe without choking? It was like that, only with bugs. I have wondered how bats find enough insects to eat, echolocation notwithstanding. Now I think they might just be filter feeders, opening their mouths and getting a mouthful. Like whales and krill. Feel free to correct any/all of my wildlife misconceptions.

Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged: bonfires, postcards, summer, summer insects, summer night, undulating snakes