Tuesdays...

I have a friend who says 'Things will be different next Tuesday'. It's her maxim for life and I remember it when things are tough on Thursday.

Last week was my weekus horribilis creatively; New Zealand Post Children's Book Award shortlistings do your head in, no matter how resilient you think you are. So I'm very pleased to say that on Saturday, The Red Poppy made the Storylines Notable Book list; we have not been forgotten.  I didn't really think about how great that was until today, because Sunday was spent in a state of anxiety with our son's impending surgery. He is 22 and needed a rib removed- not for any aesthetic reason as Marilyn Manson was rumoured to have done, but because he had an interesting condition called Paget- Schroetter disease or Thoracic Outlet Syndrome that caused some worrying blood clots last year. There is always a risk with surgery, but I'm happy to say that he had it yesterday and has come through it beautifully. Tuesday has arrived and here we are, looking forward to next week.

Whilst waiting for him to come out of the operating theatre I finished the book I was reading. Melinda Syzmanik's 'A Winter's Day in 1939' (Scholastic). It is a superb and haunting tale based on her father's own history. It's the story of Adam, a 12 year old Polish boy whose family are transported to work in Soviet labour camps during WW2. There is a particular scene in the book that stayed with me. It was a metaphor for me for the way I was feeling on Monday; small and helpless whilst danger sniffed all around; praying that death would leave and hope would be restored.

I find drawing a calming thing in times of stress, and drew what was there in my head from Melinda's words. The pencil was in my hand before I had a chance to refuse it. I can draw anywhere and a hospital waiting room is no exception.  I'm not often compelled to draw scenes from a novel, but the images she evokes are so vivid I couldn't help myself. A Winter's Day in 1939 is being launched in Wellington on Saturday at The Children's Bookshop in Kilbirnie at 3pm. I don't think anyone will mind if you pop along and buy a copy. Least of all you. 

Rewarding Illustration

Disappointed about not being on the short list for the New Zealand Post Children's Book Awards? Of course I am. I would be a filthy liar if I said otherwise. I poured my heart and soul into the illustrations for David Hill's The Red Poppy. I started the project by declaring to myself that if this was the last book I did for any reason (death or disenchantment) that it would be one I'd be super proud of- that I could RIP on it. But it seems that this year trenches are not in vogue for picture books- although I am absolutely stoked that ' My Brother's War' a novel by David DID make the list- it's a superb read and at this point I extend my heartfelt (yes really) congrats to the shortlisted ones. It's a fantastic day for you and I HAVE been a judge before so I know the angsting that goes into the process and the certain knowledge that you will break the hearts of anyone who didn't make the cut. There are some really great books there and the judges have made really thoughtful choices. I also knew some weeks ago that I hadn't made the list (having been a judge I know how the notification goes) so it isn't a surprise to me today. 

So back to me and my obsession to be on the list- why? Well, the carrot on the award stick is sales. You get shortlisted, the book gets more publicity, people buy it, you get to fill the car with petrol/buy groceries for another day (you don't get to buy a Porsche because our sales figures in NZ are small because the population is small). It also makes you feel immensely validated  for your hard work I'm told (I have not been shortlisted for the Post Awards to date). You get metaphorically showered with petals on a sparkly podium. It's on the bucket list of people in this game. I guess I'll have to live another year- that's gotta be a good thing right? It's all put in to perspective for me by the blog of the lovely daughter of a friend  of mine who doesn't get to live another year. 

She has cancer and has 6 months to live. She is 19. Harriet is the bravest person I know and one of the most talented writers. She has a bucket list too. In 3 weeks she is going overseas with her family to visit the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, to see the place of another girl who didn't make it her 20's but none the less left a remarkable impact on the world. I'm painting her portrait this weekend. I'm hoping it will be the best illustration I ever do. It doesn't need any award. I'm honoured enough.

Nautilus Showcase!

The studio where I do my 'messy' stuff is having a collective exhibition. Here are all the details. I will be putting in some of my velvet art and also manning the space next on Saturday 23rd. Come and have a look- we are a very diverse range of artists so there will be everything from painting and sculptures to recycled wood furniture, braiding and natural balms.

Golden Scarab- velvet beetle

What Lies Beneath

I interrupt my visual diary posting for this important announcement! See the poster below and book yourself a date :) I'm looking forward to sharing The Red Poppy's making in a public exhibition and be flanked on all sides by such esteemed author and illustrator company!

Diary of an Adventure

As an artist I keep creative diaries. Often they are full of lists of things to do, plus little sketches of things I like or works in progress. I have a whole stack of them and one day my children or grandchildren (if our progeny want to go down that path) will have them to pour over or biff in the skip. I hope it's not the latter. Nearly 12 years ago I started a new one at the beginning of our great adventure. We decided throw our cards in the air and see where they landed and go off to my birthplace and live and work. Our O.E. But with kids in tow. So no Oktoberfest and combie vans for us, but we did hope to see something of Europe. Our parents were slightly horrified that we'd go with no jobs and subject our children to British schools (both sets are Poms). After all, THEY escaped to New Zealand. But they didn't try and talk us out of it, only hoped we'd get sufficiently homesick to come back on our NZ not UK passports.

I kept an almost daily, then weekly visual diary which I am going to share with you all on a weekly basis. I will not apologise for illegible handwriting- you'll just have to squint. Sometimes there will be long tracts of self pity and whingeing, but that's life. Warts, drawings and all, this is not a travel log of a family on an expensive holiday. I learned much about myself and my family over the 22 months we were away. And it starts here on our last day in Wellington...

Careering

Reg the Gnome- my  faithful companion

I sometimes get asked by people," What advice would you give my teen about wanting to be an artist; should they apply for a place in a college of Art and Design, is a degree necessary? What did you find useful and what are the requirements for being in a creative industry?"

Here is my opinion:

Before you go and do an art degree, study typing. In my youth, secretarial school was somewhere you could learn to bash those keys accurately really fast. You also learned how to answer the phone, write letters and do office administration. This will be important for your career as an artist because at some point you'll decide to write a novel or two, using words instead of paint to express your story. You'll also need to apply for residencies, grants, galleries and internships. Writing a succinct application is crucial to your success, and if you become successful, you'll also need to know how to do your accounts. So learn Excel and accounting software. Do a Business degree, that will be useful.

Before you go and do an art degree, study history and the classics. Art is not merely painting pictures of pohutukawa and harakeke flowers, although they might sell at an art show. Art is about making a personal statement, challenging points of view and influencing the world; forming a manifesto. Artists have recorded social history and helped unseat destructive manipulators by exposing truths in a quiet, intelligent and well observed manner. Do a Political Science degree, that will be useful.

Before you go and do an art degree, study acting. Expressing yourself publicly and articulately is vital when you give talks about your work and sometimes you need to be able to put on another persona when you are lacking courage. The ability to project your voice is a gift that can be learned. Understanding how a production is put together is like understanding the structure of a skeleton. If the plot is the bones of a play, then the painting of a set is just the hairdo. Nice but not necessary if the underlying framework is sound. Under every piece of great art and design is wonderful bone structure. Do a Drama degree, that will be useful.

Before you go and do an art degree, look into some teacher training. You will at some point in your career both rely on teaching art methods to supplement your income and then just because you enjoy sharing your world with those students who want to be in it with you. When tutoring children, you need to know how to keep control without squashing youthful excitement when faced with paint and glue. With adults you need to know how to help open long shut doors on suppressed creativity. You need to know when to have it be about them and not about you. Do an Education degree, that will be useful.

Before you go and do an art degree, make sure someone in your life knows how to cook and administer first aid. You will eat distractedly when absorbed in a body of work and your posture will suffer, as will your lungs from inhalation of paint and sculpting materials and fingertips from crafts knives, files and heat guns. Find someone to love you for or despite your obsession with your work and refusal to take a 'real job' because that would destroy your will to live. If they can't love you anyway, then ditch them.

I hope that's useful :)

Tied up in knots

I wondered this new 2013 year what I should blog about. I have spent New Year's Eve and the following days with a head cold which has made coherent thought exhausting. It hasn't stopped me over thinking though; wondering how the year will pan out, how to be more successful than last year which disappointed me in all kinds of ways. Then whilst coughing and hanging out the washing I thought about why 2012 didn't stack up for me the way I wanted it to and over coffee with my husband and adult daughter in a relaxed kind of way, feet up on the scruffy old coffee table and undies flapping in the breeze outside, articulated my thoughts thus:

When you are a kid, your achievements are kind of huge; doing up your shoelaces, going to school, learning to read, writing a story...all of those things. They are BIG things. But when you are a teenager they seem like small stuff compared to struggling with relationships, your changing body, exams and school pressures. And so it goes on through life- each major milestone made to seem insignificant the minute it is passed because of the expectation for the next achievement. By nobody except yourself.

The first time I had a book published I was over the moon. I'd 'made it'! That was soon replaced by crushing disappointment that it wasn't shortlisted for an award. Same for television work- one minute you are on the box looking glam and the next, yesterday's news. And then it goes on; you produce more and you expect that certain things will follow as a matter of course; money, fame, awards, residencies, grants, magazine spreads, adoration, adulation, a bach on the beach, designer clothes, travel and all the things society puts up as marker of success. And very nice they are too, if you can get them. And if you don't, you go down a hole. I went down one last year in a work starved period. In this vacuum one might expect that you could embrace the free time and get on with that project you always wanted time to finish. But what happens is that you get so depressed thinking no-one will ever want to give you work again that you sit in quiet desperation and bat off all your previous successes as nothing more than being able to tie your shoelaces. Forgetting of course that when you were 5 that was a very major accomplishment.

I have beaten myself up for not being entrepreneurial enough; not taking risks, not sinking a big financial investment into my work to see if it will come off. Then (whilst hanging out the washing) I realised that every time I write or illustrate for the publishing industry I do just that. If I were to cost out my time it would run into the tens of thousands of dollars. So in effect, each project I take on, I sink a huge amount of money into with no assurance that I will get a return on investment. There are not many in the salaried sector who would be so brave. I am not the only one. There are many of us out there, being entrepreneurs, creating new startups each time we sit at that drawing or key board. We are courageous beyond belief.

And this is why I am unreservedly thrilled that Gavin Bishop, a writer and illustrator our children's book community adores for his talent, wit and generosity has received an ONZM for services to Children'sLiterature. Gavin has been tying up his shoelaces with great dexterity for some years now and they look superb; I hope he never swaps them for cheap elastic.What Gavin does reassures me, he has forged ahead because he loves what he does and is good at it and in the end isn't that what we are best doing? 

So in 2013, I'm hoping to rid myself of expectations that unachieved leave me feeling like I can't even do up my shoes anymore. I'm going to carry on doing what I love and am good at and that alone will be enough. With my laces confidently tied, I can walk forward and take new paths without falling over. Here's to an upright year!

Secret Santa

Here is a silly fun thing to make with the kids. 

Enjoy the break if you are having one and see you in the New Year :)

How to make a Secret Snowman:

You will need:

• Cardboard tube
• Dacron or cotton wool
• Glue
• Scissors
• Card
• Small twigs
• Things to decorate it with: buttons, coloured paper
• Lollies or dried fruit (depending on your Xmas diet!)

1)      Cut 3cm off a cardboard tube

2)      To make the body: cover the tube in Dacron or cotton wool – and glue it into place.

3)      Make a head from a circle of Dacron/cotton wool pulled into make a ball. I found it easiest to sew this; hand stitch around the outside edge and pull it tight- stuffing the middle first. Tie it off tight.

4)      Glue the body to a piece of card. I used green, cut into an uneven shape. Glue another strip of Dacron/cotton wool around the base of the body so that it looks nice and rounded.

5)      Decorate the face: black beads or card for eyes, a bit of orange chenille stick for a nose, a red mouth from card or craft foam, buttons from beads (or tiny buttons) and two small twigs for arms. If you are feeling adventurous you can make a little top hat from card.

6)      Fill the body with sweet treats and put the head on. 

The Hobbit and me

photo stolen  from the internet and photoshopped with apologies...

Yesterday I got to go to a cast and crew screening of The Hobbit. This is because I worked on the movie for a few months as a costume illustrator. I'd have loved to work for a few more but I had a book to illustrate, deadlines were calling and to be honest, the work that I was doing there was concept stuff and I was a tail-end-charlie, taking over from Ruth Paul (who also had another book to illustrate) and that part of the job was almost at an end. At some point the pencils are put down and the fabrication of costumes begins.

So I couldn't wait to see what had been done with Bilbo's dressing gown and jacket (over which we laboured many long hours getting the look and feel right on paper and computer before anything was machined up). Before I left 3Foot7 (Peter Jackson's production company) the first full dwarf costume was unveiled and it was simply amazing, so I was looking forward to seeing more.

I also looked forward to being critical, because by nature we are. We look to find fault more than we look for the good- especially when others are in the limelight casting shadows over ourselves. A nasty little Golumish part of me wanted to pick apart the final costuming efforts, the script and the film quality. When I was handed 3D glasses at the door I sighed because I hate 3D films for their unnecessary 'Coming at ya' effects and because they play hell with my progressive lenses. So I sat there among all the other crew with a glass of wine in hand, ready to disparage the film for all the things I hadn't done on it (but would have loved to). I put on my glasses, which actually were quite groovy slightly retro 50's sort of style and prepared to be bored by lengthy battle scenes , overdone FX and not nearly enough women in the movie (I'd read the book- there are precious few).

So, my verdict at the end of nearly 3 hours?

Gobsmackingly fabulous! I could go on and on about how brilliant Martin Freeman is as Bilbo, how disgustingly wonderful Barry Humphries is as the Goblin King and how everlastingly lovely Cate Blanchett is as Galadriel. But I won't, because I just want to say how enthralled, how delighted, how awed I was. The film was crystal clear and I forgot I had glasses on or that it was 3D. I was just there in the movie. The costumes were excellent, as I knew they would be, the digital work mind blowing the script and score thoughtfully and intelligently created...well you can see I'm a fan. The film lives up to the hype.

I can't wait to see it again. And I am very proud that in some infinitesimally small way I contributed to the process and in doing so Peter Jackson nurtured and grew my skills. He'll never know that but I thank him anyway :)

Spiralling

Almost 2 years ago I gave up my glorious space at the Production Village in Mt Cook and moved my studio home. Our son had left to go flatting (leaving a spare room) and having finished my work on The Hobbit movie, I was about to start work on illustrating a book which would earn me no income for a year. So, it seemed like a sensible move. I hate being sensible, but I was.

In that time I got not one but two books illustrated; The Red Poppy and Far Far From Home. I made a piece of wearable art; Vena Immaculata and made Wotwot puppets for Pukeko Pictures. Our son moved back home and we renovated the kitchen. I ran out of spaces to work and it's been almost two years of frustration keeping a dwindling work space tidy and the house free of art clutter. Despite loving creating things, I hate detritus around me when I'm not working. And...it's lonely.

My next big project won't keep me socialised either- it's another publishing project- a book on making Wearable Art; aimed at school students and for that I need space to fabricate things out of a variety of materials and photograph the process. That means lots of stuff lying around the place in various states of finish and that's something I don't want to live around 24/7. So, never one to dither when I make up my mind... I just have taken a space at Nautilus Creative Space in Owhiro Bay, a stone's throw from the beach on the wild South Coast of Wellington. I move in this weekend. It's a collective, a not for profit space and I can make as much mess in my studio as I like and meet a few new people. There is even a climbing wall if I want to do that. Better than climbing the walls at home.

Here are a few photos of the place, only 15 mins drive from home and plenty of parking. And given that I'm in training for walking a half marathon in May, plenty of scope for exercising along the coastline. The room is upstairs, a real garret of a place and in an earthquake or tsunami I will be toast (soggy toast) but I'll die happy :)