Prairie Writer's Day Omen

No posting. No Illustration Friday. No fun. Until after Prairie Writer's day.

Okay, maybe not no fun, but I do feel like I've been chained to my computer, and not because I am in the middle of a great story or revisions.

I haven't digested everything yet. I haven't even gone through my folder. (Ah, those days when I read through the folder when I arrived.) However, I am sensing that there was something special about this year. Maybe it is just wishful thinking or maybe I am always looking to have a supernatural experience, but something definitely weird happened yesterday. Dare I say it? An omen.

I have to say my emotions have been on a bit of a roller coaster lately, and half the day, I was deciding to quit the whole "trying to be published" thing. It would be wonderful to be able to share my writing but trying to sell my work is so unnatural to me, so hard and uncomfortable, that it becomes depressing and interferes with my writing. I don't have time to waste these days, so, though I would love to see something in print, I can't let it consume me. The whole day I was thinking to myself, "Just do your thing. Don't worry about about publishing it." Luckily, I was busy, so mostly I was working in the moment and not fretting.

I arrived home last night to an empty house, exhausted, and waiting for me was a letter from a publisher. I knew it at once because it was my handwriting on the return envelope. Right now, if you are a writer, you may doubt this story, because so few publishers even ask for return envelopes anymore, but you are just going to have to trust me. Anyway, I was a little disbelieving myself, because I couldn't remember the last time I had enclosed a self-addressed envelope. It also meant that it was a rejection.

You might be holding out a hope that I was wrong, at this point. I know I was. However, most of my brain was assuming it was an editor from PWD 2009, who, looking at the calendar, decided to get nagging promises (like to respond to attendees) from last year off their desk (or shelf, or floor).

Alas, I was partially correct. It was a rejection. The strange thing about it was that it was from a submission that I had made well over a year ago, to an editor I'd heard in New York (SCBWI Winter Conference 2008). I had completely given up hope on this one. Decided it was lost in the slush or just not of interest. However, the comment was "not right for our list," rather than "keep your day job" and (I know I am grasping at straws here) the really wonderful thing is that she asked for more work and to write "requested material" on the envelope.

The day it came, the unlikely-hood of ever hearing from this person, the tinge of silver lining on the rejection--it's an omen. I'm sure. Okay, kinda sure. Yeah, maybe she just felt guilty that she hadn't responded in so long, so she's giving me another shot. It did run through my head.

But I prefer to look at it as an omen of hope.

Bruce Goff--My Hero

This picture is a pretty good example of artificial values against nature. About the opposite of architect Bruce Goff.

This is not, therefore, really the best picture to illustrate my love of Bruce Goff's architecture, but I don't make the IF themes, and as I said, I have been a bit preoccupied with PianoForte Chicago's move to our space on Michigan Avenue--you got that shameless plug, right?

Back to Bruce Goff, the children and I saw some drawings by Goff at the Art Institute of Chicago recently in the Modern Wing's architectural gallery. He actually builds the things I dream of. There is a movie about him--ordered it from Netflix and there is even a bed and breakfast in southern Illinois(Goff Castle). How cool. Also on youtube there are a couple of videos of people who actually live in his homes(Marshall LA House, Bavenger House). The Bavenger, especially, looks like a perilous place.

This event is not happening, but I still love the invite design so I'm posting it. The poster is even better (if I do say so myself), but I didn't want anyone to get excited about a concert that won't be happening.

I can't believe my last posting was in May, but then again--yes I can. That huge PIANOS sign on Michigan Ave--that's us!!!! Crazy-busy doesn't begin to describe it. All my creativity has been sucked into getting the show room ready, no drawing, no writing. I really hope that I get at least a portion of my life back. Our children are visiting grandparents right now and everyone is all, "Oooooh, romantic." We are in bed by 8:30. That is, if we leave work by then.

Rapunzel's Lawn Guy

Hopeful

Sorry it has been so long since my last post. I like to always have a drawing to post and there hasn't been much art going on lately. There is something about having a designated mess place to do your scribbling. Lately, all my Perilous Places have been on islands like this. Not sure why. Guess it just adds to life's insurmountable difficulties, and yet the house still finds a way to connect, encourage nature, and have fun.

Illustration Friday: Brave

One would have to be brave to live in any of my perilous places, but this guy is pushing it.

Perilous Sundays

I am not exactly sure how to respond to comments (still figuring the whole blog thing out), so I am responding here: THANK YOU!!!! You all made my day--even the person who didn't have anything nice to say. And to answer a question, yes, the color was photo-shopped in for Muddy. Still working on "propagate" and missed "adrift" altogether.

My last post was on my birthday weekend--it was a lovely weekend but I kind of went into a slump afterwards. I couldn't even look at my blog--that I thought no one was reading. Ha! I will not be so negligent again.

The above is an old drawing I did of a church tower in Zurich, Switzerland. When my husband and I were first married we moved to his home country. For a short time he trained in Zurich and lived in a sort of dormitory of the company he worked for. It was under the roof of their office building in the center of town and I came for the weekends (I don't think I was supposed to be there at all). Zurich is ancient and although this area is no longer residential there are three large churches just a stones throw away. Let me tell you, the Swiss are serious about their bells. This room literally vibrated on Sunday mornings. Not only that, but the churches staggered their ringing so it went on for ever. First, one chimes 6 am--you wake up wondering if the building is on fire. Once you figure out it is bells, you hardly have time to take an aspirin before the next church begins and so on. It would have been lovely if they had been at a bit of a distance, but our window (open, of course, because it was summer and it is very hot under the roof), was eye level with towers (as you can see from the drawing).

IF: Muddy

Rising above the muck. Must get better at that.

Does this make my head look big?

As I have said, I'm kind of confused by the whole follower thing. If you received yesterday's blog, I apologize. I think it was the combined effect of three books at one time. I actually didn't feel better after venting so I have de-blogged. Don't even know if that is allowed but there you go. It is not that I have changed my opinions, I just didn't feel right being so negative. Who am I after all? Blogging makes one feel important and that is a bit dangerous.

That warm feeling is spreading in my chest...

For a couple of days now I have been signing in just to look at my new header and pictures--it starts the day with a happy smile on my face. Yes, I am easily amused. Still trying to figure out the whole "I follow you--You follow me" thing in the blogosphere, so I have been experimenting there as well. I apologize where applicable, if I have not followed "blog etiquette." I am a newbie and am working on it.

Deleting negativity. It is my blog and I will de-blog when necessary.

Schubertiade Chicago 2010

Saturday we survived the sixth annual Schubertiade. Around 500 people crammed the 8th floor of the Fine Arts Building this year--we keep breaking our record. Here are the numbers:

500 people (approxiate, since it's free it is impossible to be exact)
60+ performers (thank you, thank you)
15+ volunteers (thank you, thank you)
3 "stages"
7 hours (x3= 21 actual hours of music)

The atmosphere was charged. There were lots of young folk and children in attendance and also many regulars who have been to every Schubertiade since we began. That includes the year we did it on Superbowl Sunday when Bears were playing and it was -10 degrees outside (we still filled the room)!

Why do we do it? The easy answer is that it is a celebration of Schubert's birthday with his music--an idea started in Europe and practiced in many cities. However, if that were the only reason, I seriously wouldn't care if we never had another Schubertiade. The stress on our family, the wear and tear on our children, my legs, Thomas' high blood pressure, and our dog--yes, even our dog--make it a day I dread as much as look forward to. And that is despite our wonderful hardworking volunteers who have taken over so much of the work (again, thank you, thank you).

However, I truly think that if classical music is to survive it is through personal experiences like the Schubertiade that it will gain a foothold. Here is an event that is free to the public, where there is no pressure to sit through two hours of music (you can come and go as you please), where children are welcome (with adults, mind), where there is a party atmosphere yet people are (for the most part) well behaved and you experience the music close up (in intimate rooms) and can meet the artists afterward (even sit next to them in other concerts). I believe it is through these experiences that people, who might not otherwise, build positive and more open attitudes to classical music.

Granted, our reach is not large. The superstars such as Lang Lang do their part to raise consciousness through their sell out concerts and media blitzing. But how many people can afford a concert by LL and of those, how many can afford (or will risk) to take a child with them?

We are not the only ones, of course. There are so many wonderful ideas taking form in Chicago (Fifth House Ensemble's Black Violet is one, just off the top of my head). By the way, if you go to Black Violet, look for a puritan dog in the crowd with different colored eyes, that is our long suffering Heidi (mentioned above).

Thanks for reading.

Illustration (Last) Friday: Wilderness

Last week or the week before, Illustration Friday's prompt was "Wilderness." It was an inspiring one for me but I just couldn't get mine done in one week. Better late than never. There is no wilderness without civilization to contrast with it.

Illustration Friday: Focused

Often I hear a birdsong, and then I search for the source before it flies away. Even if I find the bird, I often cannot see it clearly. The song, however, stays focused. This was inspired by jazz singer Dee Alexander who has written a song called Rossignol (Nightingale in French).

Musings on Austen

Yesterday, I saw Becoming Jane. I enjoyed it. The BBC, Miss Austen Regrets, felt more emotionally true and this movie more of a romantic fancy, but I've never been opposed to romantic fancy. Here are two thoughts that occurred to me. They are not exactly related, except that the movie brought them to mind.

Jane Austen lived a life at the mercy of her society. As a poor gentle woman and a spinster, she had little power and depended on the help of others to survive. Her work did achieve some success in her lifetime, but I think it is fair to say that the novel was not a very respected form at the time. Now, isn't there some irony in the fact that an obscure woman in the middle of the United States (me) would only know the powerful lawyer Thomas LaFroy's name because an (at the time) obscure woman in the countryside of England danced with him and mentioned it in one of her letters.

I see it as another argument for more civility and respect in our society. You never know who you might inspire or anger. They might just write about you in their blog.

Recently, I went to a Swiss Club dinner and the gentleman sitting next to me has not been in the U.S. very long. He had most recently been living in Brazil and spoke very warmly about the people there. One of his comments was that he often encounters sales people here who are not polite or even very nice and how important that is for the job they are doing. I have also had that experience. I think we in the U.S. are so bamboozled by advertising and the media to think that certain jobs are all important and/or glamorous that if you are doing a job that is not high paying or high profile it isn't worth doing well. For example, a successful lawyer would have a high self worth and a single, dependant, wannabe writer who takes care of her mother might feel like a total failure (if she believes what the world is selling) .

I like the French word, metier because it encourages pride in ones work--no matter what that work is. Of course, that doesn't ensure the customer gets respect in France--in fact just the opposite--so I would go with the expensive Swiss version. Shop people are not overly friendly there, but they are totally professional. How can we expect a person in a shop to treat the customers with respect if the customers, by their behavior, are constantly telling him/her how unimportant and not worthy of respect he/she is?

Here is the thing that really gets me: It takes so little effort to show someone a little respect. In some cases it is as simple as your attitude.

The second thing that got me about the film is this attempt of scholars (or movie-makers) to inject romance and adventure (in the film it's called "experience") into Jane Austen's life because they cannot believe that she could have written her books without it. They believe that because her life was provincial and her society limited that she could not have imagined more. I just don't believe this. Empathy and imagination are the tools we work with. The idea that she had to have a requited love to understand the workings of the heart, just isn't true. The stories of great artist's lives have proven it time and time again. Maybe the most famous being the Red Badge of Courage, written because the author wanted to win this very argument.

Why is it that everytime I end a blog, I want to say, "Now I will get off my soapbox (or high horse)?" And after I post it, I want to apologize for my utter lack of grammar sense. I went to a lecture the other night about Visual Spacial thinking versus Audio Sequential and it explained a lot for me, like why I can never see mistakes. I am such a dismal proofreader. I am trying, but it is an uphill climb. It would have helped if they had ever taught me grammar in school. I either missed it because of moving or there was a loophole somewhere. I think I will make the standard apology one of my gadgets. Ha.

Slippery Slope

It occurs to me that many of my drawings are on slippery slopes, however, the slippery slope I want to discuss right now, is censorship. Let me just say here, I am against censorship, however, as a mother, I am also against leaving my child's developing character to the mercy of advertising, and marketing forces at work in our world. That has at times put me in the position of censor in our home. We have a TV but it is mostly used to view rentals and rarely are my kids watching it alone. I don't want to separate them from the commonalities of our society but I also don't want them to be a passive sponge of all the garbage that is out there. It is not like we discuss everything, but if I watch with them, I know what they are taking in and I can comment--usually to question or make fun of something. I am not just talking about violence and sex that are portrayed in massive quantities but the objectification of women in the media has (in my opinion) returned with a vengeance.

Of course, this has resulted in my children being avid readers. After all, we all need to escape and if the TV and computer (yes, that too) are limited, you find other entertainment. Unlimited books (my general policy) and my interest in children's literature has luckily steered them in this direction. That being said, I find myself with a similar feeling about things that are being published. Despite my reading only children's literature, my daughter and son have long out read me, but we do read a fair amount together and share what we have read. I have also made it a point to sample some of the most popular offerings--the Clique, Gossip Girls, etc series. Quite frankly, I have been shocked by a lot of the things I've read. Not just the above series but really well written books that deal with violence, sex and drugs explicitly. I have sometimes asked my kids to wait to read something because I think they would find it disturbing. Some of these books, I really want them to read but when they are ready. Having not been inured to violence by television and movies, I once had to stop reading out loud because the scene described was so shocking. This was a book by a wonderful writer, with a very funny juvenile cover--in other words we had no warning. By the way, we did finish the book but I described what happened rather than read it. That's how powerful this author's words were. Amazing.

Here is my point, we as parents shouldn't censor but we should be active participants in our children's reading life. We should create an open forum for discussion. Part of that is showing that we are interested in what they have to say and the subjects that concern them. I see so many adults around me who seem to find it beneath them to read a children's novel. I was once asked to recommend some children's books for an adult book club. This was a parent group so they were looking for some "good reads" for their children. My recommendations were put on their list, and I prepared to lead a discussion on the books on the given day. I was really shocked that only two people out of six had bothered to read either of the selections and each had only read one.

We cannot rely on publishers and bookstores to discuss the contents of their wares with young people, nor to speak to the appropriateness of a given book for a given child. So, it is up to parents, as I have said above, but libraries play their part too. Here is what I have found that disturbs me, my librarians rightly defend the library against censorship but they do not then give support where it is needed. Several times I have picked up a book that is recommended not only by our own librarians but has the ALA stamp, and been shocked by the content and then even more shocked by the fact that the librarian has not read it. Here is what I have suggested to no avail, couldn't we have a discussion of this book? It is wonderful to have discussions of the Newbery selections etc. but I think it is almost more important to have discussions of The Clique. Kids walk into their middle school English class and announce that these books are their favorites and nothing happens. I would love to see a teacher say, "Really? What do you love about it?... Who else has read it?... Do you agree?" Yes, I know I am dreaming. But that is why the library might be a good place to start these discussions.

To be clear, I am not suggesting that the discussion be an adult handing down value judgements. I conduct art discussions in the elementary using the Socratic method--we (the adult) only ask questions. Probing questions to be sure but the kids have to make the connections.

Okay, I will get off my soap box. I know that I am a lone parental voice and that those wonderful teachers and librarians out there who might see the value in this approach also see the avalanche of criticism they would get from outraged parents. Here is a thought, kids take investment--of time, emotion, patience, compassion, but mostly time. I try to spend that time reading out loud, laughing together, talking and listening instead of trying to keep books out of their hands.

Fragility

I realize that this card I made recently may be a bit enigmatic to some. But it alludes to something (in a humorous way) that is worth saying something about. You see I am the "skier" in the lower right hand corner. I am not that way all the time. Usually, I can get down the mountain--slower and less graceful than most, but I enjoy it. Twice, however, I have been hit by an irrational fear. Once, when I first started skiing, maybe 14 years ago, and once, a couple of weeks ago. If you ever feel full of yourself, I recommend a dose of sheer terror. Not the kind in the movie theater where you are in a comfortable seat in the dark and when it's over you can leave. The kind where you can't talk yourself out of it, and there is no one who can help you (though there are others watching and waiting for you who don't understand to give it that good old embarrassment factor). Some might say it is good to "face your fears." In this case, it was just get through the fear. Yes, I had to face it, but it didn't go away. It was there at every turn. When I was done, I didn't feel triumphant--just exhausted and embarrassed.

Now some have said that this blog is sad--or at least certain entries have been. Well, it is a bit my personal journal and there is bound to be some of that. However, I think it is all fertilizer. Yes, it stinks, but it is also what gives us the richest gardens. If we feel powerful and happy all the time, it is hard to empathize and question ourselves. Would I undo that moment on the mountain--actually, yes, absolutely. But I can't, and I think that's a good thing.

Confined

Medium

One of the things that was impressed upon me by an illustrator at the SCBWI NY conference some years ago, was that illustrators need to have a consistent style so that the editor has a clear vision of what he/she is contracting for and so that they remember the artist. It makes a lot of sense. This person suggested that if you really worked in more than one style, you should have two separate portfolios even under different names. At least until you are established. It makes sense, but it also made me realize that I am probably not an illustrator or very professional. Each different medium inspires me in a different way with very different results.

At the last Prairie Writer's Day Conference, we got a similar message about our writing. Stick with what you do best. Don't dabble, or at least accept that not everything you do is going to be submission material. I think it is useful to consider this. Not that it will stop me trying new things because I think, in the end, those experiments in writing improve what you do. It is helpful to limit oneself and focus on strengths.

Even Van Gogh had an off day--actually he had a lot of them. It is only the aberration that is the art market that says, "He is a genius, therefore anything he touches has a value put to it."

Getting Comfortable with Danger

There is a sense of danger and yet coziness. At first it may seem lonesome and yet there are definitely a few inhabitants coexisting here. Is there a future or is the future limited? Will the food run out or do they have ways to get supplies? Sometimes I definitely put a way out, but not here. Don't know why, but I love this place.

Dr. Seuss meets Roger Brown

This was a sketch I did on a plane trip recently. It is only looking at it now that I connect it with the above artists. I wish.

When I am drawing I am just moving from line to line. In a drawing like this there is no planning involved it is just having fun, seeing what comes out. After the fact, when I look at the sketch I wonder what it all means. If a picture is a story, then what in the world is this one about?

Happy 2010!