Gratitude for fellow kid lit creators

Sometimes I participate in Kidlit postcard day on Instagram. This past month I shared this piece I made inspired by happy memories on the Saint Lawrence River in Quebec with my husband’s family. I also wrote the following message and I thought it might be a nice thing to cross-post here in case any fellow kid lit creators stumble across my corner of the internet and could use a lift:

Books have offered me refuge so many times in life, but especially as a kid. I think this is a big reason why I keep writing and making art for kids—making stories that offer a different way, a different space, new perspective—it’s work I want to be a part of and support.

And to that purpose today I’m also sending good wishes to all my fellow kidlit artists out there. I hope you are doing whatever you need to do to sustain your work. The refuge and perspective your work offers kids is so important. I’m grateful you keep at it. Especially when the world feels the most rocky or uncertain, please keep keeping at it. The world needs what you do.

Cheers all! Happy creating.

Noticing leads to more noticing

I bet I’m not the only one with a camera roll full of lovely things I’ve noticed and decided to photograph even though I may never look at those photos again. Perhaps all of us with this tendency can make an unofficial society of those who like to notice lovely things and photograph them just because. 

And maybe “just because” is actually a practice in abundance because noticing beauty leads to noticing more beauty. And maybe this makes us better able to show up with some grace for whatever is more difficult or painful in the world or in life too. 

Anyway, cheers to Octobers. Aren’t they pretty? 

May you always choose to get in the game

Those are the words I used in the dedication for my first picture book, THE ELEPHANTS’ GUIDE TO HIDE-AND-SEEK. I’ve been thinking of those words because sometimes I write things I really need to hear myself. How about I even say it now…may I “always choose to get in the game.”

A photo of the dedication I wrote to my sons for my first picture book, THE ELEPHANTS’ GUIDE TO HIDE-AND-SEEK

A few weeks ago a hummingbird visited me in the forest on my walk. That’s also the day I got up the gumption to finally prep and send queries again after a bit of a hiatus from sharing my writing with anyone outside of my critique partners. Why wasn’t I sharing my work? Well, for one, my previous agent left the business last year. But I wish I understood better why I wasn’t just jumping back in. I guess, to put it plainly, sharing my work is something I struggle with. It’s something I’m working at! And it’s one of the reasons I wrote the dedication in my first book the way I did. Writers all have their own hang-ups and this is one I’m working to let go of.

But anyway, back to the hummingbird. I’m not sure how to describe how that hummingbird helped me—I mean, why is it that nature sometimes just nudges people to be their best?

But that’s what felt like happened. That little bird nudged me to a spot of calm where I could share my work kinda like I was doing nothing more than giving away dahlias from my garden in the summer. So I sent it off. And soon after, I found myself having a great conversation with my now agent, Mary Cummings of Great River Literary.

So This week I made this hummingbird collage (with cake!) to celebrate! I’m thrilled to now be collaborating with Mary. And also to have gotten over some of my own blocks so that I can be back in the game of sharing my children’s book work.

Cheers! To getting over blocks. And to exciting new creative chapters of all kinds.

Like Miss Rumphius

Last spring when I was giving away extra dahlia tubers a friend told me I reminded her of Miss Rumphius.

Best compliment ever! And coincidentally, or maybe not, that book is one of my favorite books of all time. “You must do something to make the world more beautiful,” reads a line in the book. And Miss Rumphius does.

I set aside my Very Important Work this past week to play. To work through some anxious feelings of uncertainty. I made this art piece. And it helped. But still, this is just how life is with the pandemic: lots of uncomfortable uncertainty.

My dahlia garden

Yet, I realized, here’ a certain thing: I am someone who does what I can to make the world more beautiful. I always have been. I’m certain I always will be. Maybe you are too? If so, Hi! During this very uncertain time, I’m leaning on this small certain beautiful practice of mine. And it’s helping. Maybe you can too.

Home sweet home

Also, flowers make everything better.

Happy Book Birthday to THE ELEPHANTS' GUIDE TO HIDE-AND-SEEK!

Today is the book birthday for THE ELEPHANTS’ GUIDE TO HIDE-AND-SEEK, written by me, art by Gladys Jose, and published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky. Hooray! It’s a funny tongue-incheek book about getting in the game despite feeling awkward or unsure.

I learned to write funny books in part because humor has always calmed my own nerves. Laughter helps. So especially during these times, I hope this happy funny book finds some kids and brightens their day.

Cheers!

Also check out my book birthday twitter thread about the making of The Elephant guide.

And maybe I’ll see you at my virtual launch party!

Art for Bellingham!

Inviting all Bellingham kids (and the grown-ups who love them) to make art and messages for our senior community members who are self-isolating during this time! The goal is to create a virtual public art space to help our community stay better connected while we all social distance during the covid-19 pandemic.

I threw this project together because it breaks my heart to think of our beloved Bellingham community as fractured right now. I thought it would be lovely to empower kids to help their community while helping us all connect with some of those most isolated and at risk.

The video below I made as a mini art lesson to rally participation, feel free to share it with your kids!

Please send PHOTOS of any art or messages to me (use the contact form on my website). I’ll add them to a shared dropbox folder, where participating adult care facilities can access them and print them out for their residents (or share the link for those who are tech-savvy, no actual paper mail involved for safety reasons!).

I hope you’ll consider joining or inviting your kids to participate (messages from grown-ups are welcome too).

And please invite others! Thanks!

PS I originally posted this on social media but I am adding it here as an easy place to link for those who want to share. Thanks to everyone who has already participated! I’ll be sending our first round of messages by the end of this week so please get messages in by Thrusday April 2.

The world turns upside down right as I'm about to send my book out into it

A few weeks ago I was busy planning my first school visits as an author, coming up with creative silly things I could put on the internet to celebrate, and thinking of fun activities for my book launch party (still planned for May 9 at Village Books in Bellingham, but who knows what the world will look like by then…).

How many elephants do you see in the photo? Can you find the “king of hide & seek?” How many elephants are wearing glasses? How many elephants have rainbow ears? How many silly questions about this picture can a person ask?

But now the world has turned upside down. Pandemic is a big word. Somehow in the chaos of the last few weeks, I forgot to post things here I put elsewhere that would have been fun to post. My excuse: my mind is often in a fog, juggling a lot of emotional labor for my family, worries for my community, anxiety for all the small businesses and people at risk for covid-19, and then to top it off trying to reinvent the wheel with how to celebrate my own little dream come true. Even while I mourn not celebrating how I’d imagined.

I originally planned on wearing these yellow chucks that match THE ELEPHANTS’ GUIDE TO HIDE-AND-SEEK to a school visit on March 20. It was a bummer to be stuck at home instead but it occurred to me that it would be fun to wear them anyway on that day so I did. It was one little plan I could keep from before.

But here. Here are a few happy things that I managed to pause for in the midst of all of it. My ridiculous elephant collection. My colorful shoes that match my book. My cats playing hide-and-seek.

Cat Hide-And-Seek!

To contribute much needed comfort to my community and world, I present you with a new game to try while in your new situation always-at- home trying not to think about all the hard things all the time.

Pro-tip: cats like their humans to be it.

But once in a while…

They are willing to take a turn.

I made some art last Christmas that unknowingly set the tone for my year, “Even when the world feels sad I will make a joyful noise.”

Christmas art I made, but maybe I can try to do this now too? Not sure, but maybe I can try.

And I threw a bunch of wishing rocks in the water yesterday.

Mostly I wish you well.

Guess I’m hoping for a rainbow even in the rain.

Love to everyone out there. Hope you are healthy, safe, socially distanced but not isolated, and reading a lot. I wish for you all the rainbows I can wish.

Ride On

Four years ago from last Saturday I made a stupid mistake riding my bike, went over the handlebars going fast downhill, and crashed face-first into the gritty pavement. Over the following months I struggled with the after effects: a concussion, a mangled chin, a mangled hand, severe flashbacks, and severe headaches, to name a few. It’s not easy to get up after a crash. But people do.
🚲

Fast forward to last Saturday and most of last week, where I spent the four-year anniversary of my crash at one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever been to, teaching my son how to ride his own bike, surrounded by joyful families soaking up the view, writing a piece I’ve been scared to write (but need to write) about riding bikes, and mostly, celebrating being alive by living life to its fullest, taking in all the beautiful things.

If you’ve ever had a crash, small or large, I hope you can get back up and ride again too. And if you are in the middle of doing just that, I send you all the encouragement and love I can send.

🚲
Ride on.
❤️

STORYSTORM 2019! Brainstorm, Play, and Ideas

Brainstorm, brainstorm, brainstorm! Play, play, play! Ideas, ideas, ideas!

These three core creative values pretty much sum up the heart of my creative process. They also sum up Picture Book Author Tara Lazar’s annual Storystorm Challenge, which I’ve participated in for many years.

The Storystorm challenge (used to be called PIBOIDMO—picture book idea month) is a challenge on Tara’s blog where participants agree to come up with a new picture book idea every day for 30 days in a month. 30 ideas! In a month! Seems crazy at first. But no. It’s great. 

Because where do I get my best ideas? Out of a pile of terrible ideas. It’s true. Basically I get my best ideas by coming up with lots and lots of ideas, putting every idea into the pile, and then later worrying about whether they are any good or not. And that same basic concept has now extended into so many aspects of my creative process that I feel it somehow captures the entire spirit of writing and art for me.

My Bureau of Fearless Ideas shirt and my Field Guide To Fearless Ideas poster, both purchased at the Greenwood Space Travel Supply Company in Seattle, a storefront for the Bureau of Fearless Ideas, a non-profit writing and tutoring center for kids.

So in the spirit of fearless ideas, here I am this past week wearing my Bureau Of Fearless Ideas shirt next to my Field Guide To Fearless Ideas poster, (purchased here, more info in the caption). And why am I wearing my BFI* shirt? Because STORYSTORM = FEARLESS IDEAS! And it’s that time of year. I’ve just finished up 2019’s challenge and I’m celebrating all the ways ideas, brainstorming, and play make my art better.

This past year I signed a contract for my first PB after working at it a looooong time. And THE ELEPHANT HIDE-AND-SEEK HANDBOOK (scheduled for release from Sourcebooks Jabberwocky in 2020) was definitely born from this process.

So cheers to fearless ideas and fearless brainstorming! And a big shout-out and thank you to Tara for all she’s done for the writing and illustrating community over many years!

THANK YOU TARA!

The bumper sticker on my car. Bought it at Wild Play zipline course on Vancouver Island, BC. Pertains to art and writing too.

*BFI = Bureau of Fearless Ideas, a real place. It’s a tutoring center for kids. But they also have cool shirts and posters. And in Seattle they have a Space Travel Supply Company. So that’s awesome.

Grateful for the life of Mary Oliver

The first time I read a Mary Oliver Poem, I was visiting my mom at her college, while I was also in college. Even if I missed our house, the one mom had sold and left for her new career adventure in middle age, we’d moved so many times when I was young, I’d done this before, I could do it again. Home probably could be wherever there were people I loved. But. It was my last semester at school and it had been a difficult few months—I was struggling to let go of a very unhealthy relationship, perfectionism and anxiety raged. I didn’t know how to give myself permission to do the things I knew were calling my name. I didn’t know where I belonged. Still, visiting mom felt like soup on a sick day. I could breathe again. I felt a little more well. And there in the “kitchen” of my mom’s cramped student-housing apartment, I think under a magnet on the waist-high mini-fridge, was a poem. Wild Geese by Mary Oliver.

As far as I was aware it was the first time in my then 23 years that I’d read anything by Mary Oliver. When mom wasn’t looking, I copied the poem to take with me. I love my mom to pieces but it’s hard to talk about hard things. I didn’t want to talk about how that poem made me feel—the same feeling of exhale I felt by visiting mom, actually. It was permission to not be perfect or have the answers and still love life anyway, all in a poem, and in a visit to my beloved mother.

My life is better because of the words Mary Oliver shared with the world and now has left behind—not just that one poem, but so many I’ve fallen in love with since.

Thanks for your words and life Mary. I’m so grateful you were here among us sharing them for so long.

Happy New Year!

Squeezing in a quick New Year's collage in the midst of family visits, kid chaos, and all the fun this time of year can bring. My past year brimmed with adventures, delights, and people for whom I am grateful. Most notably after many years of working at it, this year I can finally say I'M GOING TO BE AN AUTHOR! How awesome is that? VERY! It's a dream come true. So grateful for all who helped me along the way.

As for the coming year I know this for sure: in addition to more adventures, delights, and good times with good people, my new year will be full of ART. How do I know this? Because it's what's calling my name and because it's what I choose. To make more art, share more art, and carve more time for creative play. MORE ART! More collage!

For 2019, may your compass also point you in the way your heart calls. May your year be full of people and projects that make you come alive. May the wind fill your sails. Happy New Year!

StoryStorm 2017: This is fine

Today I finished up my 31 picturebook ideas for Storystorm 2017 (formerly known as PiBoIdMo). Hooray! I love Storystorm. I get many (most?) of my good ideas through the practice of brainstorming so this exercise is always a natural fit for me.

This year I notice a theme through many of my ideas: anxiety. Probably not a surprising theme for January 2017.

But especially not a surprising theme from someone who had severe issues with anxiety as a kid but whose severe issues were completely without name or notice at the time. How many times did I hear the dismissive, "Stop being such a worrywart!" Too many. Maybe the reason BEDTIME FOR FRANCES by Russell Hoban was one of my favorite books as a kid was because of how dismissive all the adults were of Frances's fears in that book. I related to that problem as a kid (my grown ups loved me just like Frances's do—love you mom!—it's just that grown-ups don't always get it).

My dad died when I was three and in my small town, as well-meaning as everybody was, everyone avoided talking about the bad stuff. With hindsight I see that I was like a deer caught in headlights for years and no one really acknowledged that it was scary as hell to lose my dad. And no one acknowledging it made it scarier.

I've been having a bit of déjà vu in the last week with the new president and the whirlwind of chaos that has followed. There still are so many strange silences from people I know. And I view those silences with curiosity and sadness.

And also as inspiration. Maybe I can take my childhood fears and make something of them now. Maybe I can even make them funny? 

Or maybe I'll just make a book about a duck.

Anyway, go check out the famous This is Fine comic if you haven't seen it. It's been used already for lots of memes on the internet. But with regards to all of the above thoughts on anxiety, it's horribly perfect for this week.

And if you want to see the artist's update (because hope is nice) here's a link to that too.

Sharing Play at Dumas Bay SCBWI Illustrators retreat

This past weekend, illustrators from around Washington and Oregon gathered to retreat, play, and learn on the water in Dumas Bay, Washington, and I was among them. We were honored and thrilled to have illustrators Christian Robinson and Catia Chien guide us in our play. What a line up!

Indulge me a minute while I express how giddy I personally was to sign up for this retreat. I am a huge, huge, dinosaur-sized, Christian Robinson Fan. When I pour over his collages I feel the same joy and wonder as I did when I was a child pouring over THE SNOWY DAY and other books by Ezra Jack Keats, my childhood favorite author. And at the same time Christian's work is fresh and modern in a way that offers me joy in the here and now too. Plus it doesn't hurt that LAST STOP ON MARKET STREET (illustrated by Christian and written by Matt de la Peña) is probably my son Lars's favorite book.

Lars, who is 3-years-old, takes the bus in the morning several times a week with Daddy. He is especially excited when his favorite bus, the purple one, is the one that picks him up at the curb. You should see the light in his eyes. But even when it's just the regular bus he loves to climb on and sit by the window and talk about all the noises and people and moments on the bus. LAST STOP ON MARKET STREET is called THE Bus Book in our house even though we have several other bus books. Lars likes to close his little eyes the same time the main character, CJ, does. He closes his eyes and listens to the music, wherever the music is in his heart.

So this past weekend I got to go to Dumas Bay and connect with the music in my own heart. And I got to share that experience with many other illustrators. And I also got to learn from Catia Chien, whose work I was less familiar with ahead of the retreat with but now am excited to love.

I gained insights about my own work and practices as I always do at SCBWI events but the thing that probably will stick with me most was just the realization that no matter what happens externally in the world or my own life, I am an artist and I will always make art. That is the music in my own heart. I don't mean to make it sound like a new commitment, rather a quiet acknowledgement of the obvious and what is already there at a time when so many things in the greater world feel uncertain.

We children's book creators will continue to do this thing because it's what we do. And we will do it with heart and passion and even when we take years to get published, or never are published at all, or are banned, or make mistakes, or whatever, we collectively will keep working to make the world brighter and better through books.

Many thanks to my local SCBWI chapter volunteers, especially Tina Hoggatt, for all the work you did putting this retreat together. And many thanks to Catia and Christian for sharing your light with the world and with us this past weekend.

From a walk I took in the garden at Dumas Bay

Tired of hate

Thinking of Orlando.

Back on the bike!

I posted this on facebook but thought I'd post here too.

Starry Starry Ride...

This week I'm celebrating the magic of getting back in the saddle after a setback. I cut this collage out before

my bike crash

last summer. Needless to say, I had no desire to finish it after my crash.

But this past week I decided to follow through. I glued it to mark the week I finally got the courage to get back on my bike (a little over a week ago now).

Cheers to getting up and trying again after a crash.

If drawing is the balm, I’ll take it

A partial pile of drawings from the last couple weeks.

Practicing Ahimsa (A yoga term for non-violence that basically means I’m honoring my edge) towards self while healing is not easy for me (or my family). Five weeks after the bike crash I’ve been given the clear for the splint to come off my left hand… but only when no children are around and I’m doing something restful. Also (and this one I’m in denial over but really have to admit) if I’m out and about doing too much I get dizzy-concussion symptoms still. So yes, the next few weeks still hold a bunch of laying-off-it for me.

Can I just say…Ugh. I don’t like laying-off it.

But then again, there’s another side to this silly attitude of angst. When I’m normally doing all that other stuff that I’m currently laying off of, I normally wish I were being better about honoring my drawing time. And drawing requires a lot of butt-in-chair. Which means…

Yay bike crash! You gave me an excuse to blow-off everything other than drawing.

 (Just as an aside this is also one of the many reasons I love deadlines. I love love love telling the to-do list to go to heck over a drawing deadline! Give me a deadline and I’ll love love love you!).

So ya, anyway drawing is what I normally wish I were doing but often set aside more than I wish to because well mommy and glacial speed of my industry, and well. Excuses pile up. I hope I remember this time as the time I crashed my bike so bad I could do little other than what I most wanted to do anyway.

So. Sorry husband! I still can’t change diapers. Sorry dirty dishes! My second hand is still too inflexible. Sorry millions of mommy tasks and house tasks and life tasks everyone is annoyed I’m neglecting! For most every purpose the next few weeks, I still only have one hand.

And meanwhile, if drawing is the balm, I’ll take it.

(But next time I think I’ll just blow off the other stuff on the to-do list if I want to get a drawing project finished and save myself a lot of trouble.)

After the bike crash

So I got home from vacation two weeks ago, got on my bike for a little ride before getting to work on Monday and...

 CRASHED!

Ouch.

So last week I practiced a new sport called concussion healing (I was wearing a helmet but took it hard in the chin). Concussion healing involves doing this: Nothing.

And by nothing I mean resting not only your body but your brain. No reading. No listening. No puzzles. No drawing. Nothing.

I am type A. Nothing suuuuuuuucks! I might have cheated a bit. But I did rest mostly.

And what's important is that I'm mostly okay. People do this awesome and amazing thing: we heal. We take crappy painful spills and even though we sometimes don't recover, we sometimes do. The healing process makes me marvel.

I'll spare my old blog the details of my crash but add a note of gratitude for the good Samaritans who picked me up in their pick-up when I was bleeding and wrecked on the side of the road (I can't even remember what you look like!) and for the firemen who ultimately got me to the hospital and for all the friends and family who've helped me heal.

And also to fate: I'm so happy that my drawing hand was the one spared. Which leads me to this week.

 This week has been quiet and full to the brim with drawing. 

I've had months of setbacks with my work and after all of it it is so nice to be able to just draw. And draw. And draw.

Because this is part of healing too.

I'm finishing up drawings for a revision I could/should/would have finished ages ago if I hadn't moved. It's delightful and fun to draw this much despite being self-conscious of not getting everything done long ago and right away and perfectly-timed and without any hitches involving mommy life and moving, and multi-tasking. Despite the perfectionist on my shoulder nagging me that I'm not perfect it does feel pretty nice to just pick up the pen and do it anyway.

 

So here's the imperfect me (still bandaged, pirate scar to come). Feeling lively despite the scars.

 

 

A Mother's Day Treat

Yesterday when I picked my son up from school he had a belated Mother's day surprise for me.

 He had painted a flower planter yellow (my favorite color) and planted yellow flowers in it for me. 

 He also gave me a special drawing/card that made me melt.

That picture is of us in my studio making art together. He said: "There aren't faces on us Mommy because those are the backs of our heads." 

So sweet!

I think I'll read him an extra story today to celebrate children's book week!

Delicious Spring

I love journaling.

Often I think the act of keeping a journal helps me look out for things worthy of journaling about.

Blogging is no different.

Increasingly though, I find that this often takes a non-written form. I look for color or light that's just so. And that's somehow what I feel like recording.

 And so sometimes my camera is my journal.

And so I share some snippets here on my blog of moments I've spent recently, relishing spring.

This is my nephew, Richard.

I'll catch up with posting some drawings or process pieces for recent illustrations and current illustrations I'm working on soon.

 

But, as hopefully most out there know, sometimes life is too rich to spend too much time plugged in or online.

But it is nice to stop in now and then and share/record the richness.

:) 

Juggling act

As May is winding down, I realize I have been a bit neglectful of my happy little blog. Well, that's not exactly the truth. The truth is, I've been getting my life back in order after our move across the ocean! It's exciting and fun and busy. Things are starting to come together a bit around here (soon I'll have pictures of my new library dining room! And colorful staircase!). Basically, I've been unpacking; both my literal baggage from living abroad and also my experiences of the last two years.

Well there's all that and I've been on extra Mom duty. We had a little calamity here...

Oscar's fine. It's nothing much. It will heal good and fast and strong. But this is all just to say, I've been busy being a mom too. It's not only the repatriation issues and broken bones that I've been wrestling with. There's also kindergarten (Oscar will start this fall). I've been trying to figure out our options for kindergarten and I've been visiting schools and calling other parents to ask questions, on and on.

Wait, what was that?

I hear a inner voice.

Is it a critic?
Perhaps...

Or maybe it's just myself acknowledging myself.
Hi self.
"Kjersten, this blog is for your art. For your passion, vocation, and calling. This blog is not a mommy blog. What the heck are you writing right now?"

Well, I've had to set myself aside a bit this past month.

*She waves her head at herself in disgust and stares herself in the mirror and wags a finger at her own face: "I thought you were committed to your dream too! You have to take care of yourself, too!"*

But... Doesn't it suck to be hard on yourself either way? To feel guilty to work...

 (There isn't a current pressing deadline with my work after all — I've often been wishing there was — and meanwhile there IS a lot of pressing personal deadlines with getting things in order outside of my art right now)

...and at the same time to feel guilty about not working more?

(How are you ever going to be a real artist if you don't make time to work, even when other things are pressing?)

And now I might feel guilty that I'm being hard on myself.
And now I might feel guilty that I feel guilty.
Ugh. Now I'm just annoying myself.

Does this struggle back and forth sound familiar to anyone else?
If this sort of struggle never happens to you, bless you. I admire your ability to shake off the guilt and always know how to prioritize.

It is a well known fact that mommas sometimes have to juggle. We do. It happens. It's a clear suspect in why sometimes our careers lag behind those of our male counterparts.

No, no, no, you may say. It doesn't have to be that way. But.

Isn't it often the truth?
We can even see it ourselves.
It makes us mad.
Normally at ourselves.

And yet,
would I have it another way?
I'm not sure.
I don't think so.
I love being a mom.
But I'm an artist too.

Just saying...
That's what's on my plate right now.

All that and...
I've set aside June to finish my studio and get back to work!
It's haunting me that I completed two black and white pieces of art right in the thick of the worst of the chaos (because I wanted to make a deadline) and I liked them.  That means I was capable of meeting a deadline even if I had all that other stuff on my plate. I'm wishing I had more of those sorts of deadlines! Someone throw a curve-ball deadline at me, will you? I'm anxious for another challenge of that sort. I can't believe I'm writing that!

I read a line in a newspaper the other day that seems related just now somehow. The woman in the article was telling a story and one line of it stuck out to me. She said: "I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I was up for the job."
I feel that way about my art. About my commitment.
My muse is chomping at the bit.

And so the juggling act goes on.