Friday, August 31, 2012

Get in the Game

September is so close.

I've been keeping up my training over the Summer.

I'm ready to start the new season.*

*as long as I get to go swimming in the ocean just a few more times.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


A few years back, before I got interested in illustration as a career choice I was a painter.
I still am a painter, only now I use pixels instead of pigment.

This is one of my paintings.
Ready 18x24 acrylic on canvas
Thinking About It  24x36 acrylic
Here is another one of my paintings from that time period.

This one was donated to the Friends of the Library for a fundraiser that took place earlier this Summer.

One day when I was on my lunch break, I checked my email on my phone. I noticed that I had a message from Cape Cod Magazine asking to use a photo of my painting in the next edition
(I didn't scroll to the bottom of the email). What I did was quickly reply, "Sure, let me know what you need." and went back to work.

When I got home I re-read the email and scrolled to the bottom to discover that they weren't talking about the library fundraiser. They were talking about using the a photo of the painting, "Ready" to be paired with an excerpt from Sara Pennypacker's new book, "The Summer of the Gypsy Moths".


I knew about the new book because I had seen the beautiful cover by Julia Denos on her blog.

I remember my own "Summer of the Gypsy Moths "and I am excited to read it, along with my daughter.

Umm, OK.

I asked that the editors mention that I was represented by the W.H.Lutz Gallery in Harwichport and sent them the file with a photo of the painting.

This week (at a family party, no less) my parents had gotten a hold of the magazine.

When I painted this I had no idea that I would be interested in pursuing a career in illustration and children's literature.

But now, I am, "Ready".

Wednesday, August 22, 2012


It was early enough in the morning that I still had my robe on. I was downstairs packing the backpacks when my daughter walked into the kitchen.

She had a concerned look on her face.

She said I had to come with her. She put her little hand in mine and led me upstairs to her bedroom, to the fish bowl.

Crowny the fish had swum his last swim.

I gave my little girl a hug. She had tears in her eyes. She knew.

I had about forty-five minutes to get my daughter, my son and myself fed, dressed, teeth brushed, bags packed and out the door for daycare and work. 

Now I had to squeeze in grief counseling and a funeral.

I'm not sure how but we all made it out to the garden less than an hour later with the jewelry store coffin in hand and only a few minutes over schedule.

I dug a shallow grave next to Fred the fish's resting place. I gently put the box in under the topsoil and mulch. I placed a good size granite rock over the patted down grave. 

Dressed in office clothes with shovel in hand I said a prayer.

"Thank you, God for letting us have Crowny in our lives.
He was a strong, brave fish that made us happy to look at.
Thank you for Crowny's beautiful colors.

This is the kind of thing that is not in the books on parenting that you get at your baby shower.

These are the kind of things that parenting is all about.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Endless Summer

I've heard a lot of complaints about our record hot Summer here in the U.S.

I'm not ready to give up Summer.

I'm not done swimming in the ocean.

I haven't gone out for ice cream enough.

I haven't been to P'town yet.

I haven't had enough company or cookouts.

I wish those who are suffering the drought and high temperatures a break.  How about temps in the low eighties with occasional rain?

Doesn't that sound good?

Please, for just a while longer.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012


My husband and I love the Olympics.

We like to monopolize the one television.

"Mom, can I watch TV?"

"Sure, I think Dad is in there watching the women's soccer semi-finals. Why don't you join him?"

"Ugh, I guess I'll go read instead."

Win, Win

I find the whole thing very inspiring.
Cheesy moments and all.

I know there is still poverty and war.

But if that teenager or double-amputee or forty-year-old can achieve what we didn't think was humanly possible then I can surely get to work pursuing my own dreams.

Cue iinspiring music as I jog up the stairs to the art studio.