T-day 2020

Well, it wouldn’t be Zoomsgiving 2020 if things had gone off without a hitch. Soooo, when Zoom time finally arrived, we were, of course, still in in the thick of cooking our simple meal for four, and we couldn’t get the kids video to work, though we tried two different computers. 

As I was swapping out cords and getting my hands swatted away from the keyboard by my 7 year old, I heard the family singing Happy Birthday in the background from my iPad in the kitchen. My birthday is tomorrow, but somehow, amidst the confusion of two nephews birthdays, an anniversary and a pandemic, my mom forgot or lost track of days and her only daughters birthday IS somewhere around Thanksgiving... a day early is better than a day late though, of course. 

I gave up on my kids being a part of the family Zoom event, and made it back to the cooking and the screen in the kitchen in time for the first two musical performance attempts that my brother and his daughter made, both on mute while the rest of us helplessly pointed to our ears and waved enthusiastically; trying to get their attention. Third time was the charm, and even with the poor sound quality and sketchy noise blips and cut outs, you could assume their skill and the joyful music they shared. It was almost like we were all together in person. 

Zoom ended just as pie bubbled over and started burning on the bottom of the oven. We scraped it off and fanned the smoke and finally our meal was ready. 

The butternut squash lasagna and candied nuts on the salad turned out perfectly and were delicious. As my husband and I took our first bites and mmmmmm mmmmed, and expounded on the many things we are grateful for, our children wailed at the disgusting looking meal, which was all they were going to get for Thanksgiving dinner.

I am so very grateful for my family. They support me and believe in everything I do. They fill my heart to the brim!!

Broken Angel

 

I must have heard it a million times, but somehow I am still learning just now, that it is not my ability or skills that make me an artist, but the practice of doing it every day. It doesn’t matter how skilled I am or ever will be. What is important is the emotions that my drawings bring. We care about the stories being told. 

My brother shared a story with me today. It was a tale from our childhood together. 

He was little, and he had saved all of the money he had earned doing chores to buy Christmas gifts for his siblings. Only sadly, he broke a porcelain angel in the first shop we went into on the day we went shopping. He had to spend almost every penny he had to pay for it. He brought the broken angel home, and with help from my mom, glued it back together. 

His story ends with him giving me the angel on Christmas, and how I loved it all the more because it had once been broken. 

I am like that angel these days. A broken human being, but my cracks give me the will to keep going, and the understanding to be a vessel to illustrate stories with care and emotion. 

2020 VOTE!

I began October, participating in Inktober, which is an annual challenge to create an image every day for a month, and post it online. I had a vague story line that I was going try to follow, in addition to the word prompts. Somewhere around day 11 or 12, I began to stall out; troubled by the news and the stress of the upcoming election. I couldn’t wait to cast my own ballot, and was anxiously awaiting its arrival in my mailbox.  

While scrolling to distract myself, I came across the work of Mary Englebreit. Her work is as familiar and as present in my life, and probably yours, as Earl Gray tea. I had seen plenty of her adorable, comfortable, kitschy and grandmotherly illustrations on cards and calendars, but I had never taken a close look at Mary Englebreit herself. I found her feed on Instagram, and right away had new respect. Her quotes are witty and direct, and she does not shy away from speaking her mind, even if her opinions might differ greatly from those of her fans. 

Especially intriguing to me, were these words she used in several of her pieces, “Vote. The constitution isn’t going to uphold itself.” 

I have spent far too many days and years in this life, wringing my hands and feeling insignificant and powerless to change what I often see as a sad future course of humanity, especially in my home country. Yet there it was. One thing I could do. I could vote! I could spread that simple message. I made a drawing of myself with Englebreit’s words. 

I posted my drawing on social media with the message that I would make an illustration for anyone who would like one, with the word VOTE, to share with their friends and family. 50-something (apparently I can’t count right now), illustrations and one (still undecided) election later I feel like something positive actually did happen. 

Each person who trusted me to make a drawing for them brought me joy, and gave me the chance to feel connected to them during this strange and isolating time. I know that I also lifted spirits and eased stress for my friends and collaborators and others. 

My Inktober was derailed, but my October was saved. These will not be the last vote illustrations you see from me, because I know that there will be many more important elections in our future. 

VOTE my friends, and thank you for doing your part to uphold our constitution.

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