It's always fun to get copies of a new book with a map I've worked on inside.
This is from THE TURN OF THE TIDE, by Rosanne Parry (Random House BYR, 2016).
Yay!
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
New Map ~ The Turn of the Tide
It's always fun to get copies of a new book with a map I've worked on inside.
This is from THE TURN OF THE TIDE, by Rosanne Parry (Random House BYR, 2016).
Yay!
Monday, October 19, 2015
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Random Quotes
"Just like children, anyone who regularly engages in the work of art develops a life filled with wonder, yearning, flow, and serious play all over the place. Is that childish? To me, it is the definition of being mature."
– Eric Booth, The Everyday Work of Art
I've dipped in and out of this book for a few years now-- time to sit down and read it straight through.
– Eric Booth, The Everyday Work of Art
I've dipped in and out of this book for a few years now-- time to sit down and read it straight through.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Boot + Shoe + Luck = Story
Last week I promised that I'd share the inspiration behind my second book, Sam Bennett's New Shoes. Here's my rambling tale...
As I mentioned in my Door Day post, my family lives in an old colonial farmhouse that was built around the year 1720. Did I mention that it was a total disaster when we bought it, and that the realtors thought we were nuts? (In fact, we heard that a builder had wanted to buy it as a tear-down... don't get me started on that rant.) The house had sat vacant for over a year and our kids were very, very young. In hindsight, we were nuts! But the house had so much history. And we loved it.
So-- one day, my handy husband was hanging a chandelier in the dining room. He cut a hole through the plaster and put his hand inside and came out with... this boot. No kidding! Of course we wondered-- whose was it and what on earth was it doing there? 18th century hide-and-go-seek champion, perhaps? We filled it with dried flowers, put it on the mantel and pondered.
A few months later it was wintertime. And having nothing better to do, hubby was rummaging around in the basement. Mind you, when I say basement I don't mean the wall-to-wall carpeting, finished basement/rec room kind. I mean old house basement-- bulging stone walls, dirt floor and spider factory. But it is one of his favorite spots in the house because, seriously, an old house basement has tons of information about the age of a house and how it was constructed. So it really is pretty cool.
He was in a crawlspace section that had once been an outside porch, but was enclosed not long after the house was built, judging from the beams. As he was rummaging through old rocks and spoons and shards of pottery (since in the olden days people usually buried their trash outside) he found... this shoe. No kidding! It's hard to see in the photos, but there were still pegs holding it together. The leather was almost petrified. Now we were really curious!
As serendipity would have it, around that time Early American Life magazine ran an article about finding just these sorts of shoes hidden in old houses. They were called "concealment" shoes-- well-worn shoes that were past their useful life hidden on purpose, probably to protect the houses from malevolent spirits.
This set us off on a lot of research and, of course, sparked my imagination. Who wore the boot and the shoe? What was life like for them? Living in an old house naturally leads you to wonder these kinds of things anyway, but somehow the boot and shoe made it so much more immediate. They had taken on the shape of their owner's feet. They seemed so personal.
I thought about this for a few years, and eventually Sam Bennett came about-- a young boy growing up on a farm in colonial times gets his first pair of new shoes, and learns about the tradition of hiding old shoes from his papa.
In case you're wondering, through the years we've hidden our own children's shoes, too. After all, who couldn't use a little more luck?
Here's some more information about concealment shoes.
As I mentioned in my Door Day post, my family lives in an old colonial farmhouse that was built around the year 1720. Did I mention that it was a total disaster when we bought it, and that the realtors thought we were nuts? (In fact, we heard that a builder had wanted to buy it as a tear-down... don't get me started on that rant.) The house had sat vacant for over a year and our kids were very, very young. In hindsight, we were nuts! But the house had so much history. And we loved it.
So-- one day, my handy husband was hanging a chandelier in the dining room. He cut a hole through the plaster and put his hand inside and came out with... this boot. No kidding! Of course we wondered-- whose was it and what on earth was it doing there? 18th century hide-and-go-seek champion, perhaps? We filled it with dried flowers, put it on the mantel and pondered.
A few months later it was wintertime. And having nothing better to do, hubby was rummaging around in the basement. Mind you, when I say basement I don't mean the wall-to-wall carpeting, finished basement/rec room kind. I mean old house basement-- bulging stone walls, dirt floor and spider factory. But it is one of his favorite spots in the house because, seriously, an old house basement has tons of information about the age of a house and how it was constructed. So it really is pretty cool.
He was in a crawlspace section that had once been an outside porch, but was enclosed not long after the house was built, judging from the beams. As he was rummaging through old rocks and spoons and shards of pottery (since in the olden days people usually buried their trash outside) he found... this shoe. No kidding! It's hard to see in the photos, but there were still pegs holding it together. The leather was almost petrified. Now we were really curious!
As serendipity would have it, around that time Early American Life magazine ran an article about finding just these sorts of shoes hidden in old houses. They were called "concealment" shoes-- well-worn shoes that were past their useful life hidden on purpose, probably to protect the houses from malevolent spirits.
This set us off on a lot of research and, of course, sparked my imagination. Who wore the boot and the shoe? What was life like for them? Living in an old house naturally leads you to wonder these kinds of things anyway, but somehow the boot and shoe made it so much more immediate. They had taken on the shape of their owner's feet. They seemed so personal.
I thought about this for a few years, and eventually Sam Bennett came about-- a young boy growing up on a farm in colonial times gets his first pair of new shoes, and learns about the tradition of hiding old shoes from his papa.
In case you're wondering, through the years we've hidden our own children's shoes, too. After all, who couldn't use a little more luck?
Here's some more information about concealment shoes.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Books for the Long Haul
One of my favorite books ever is Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland. It's one that I re-read at least once a year, and dip in to as needed. I always find something new. I'd give it to any kind of artist-- painter, writer, sculptor-- the ideas apply to all. Here are a few that struck me this time:
"The function of the overwhelming majority of your artwork is simply to teach you how to make the small fraction of your artwork that soars."
"If you think good work is somehow synonymous with perfect work, you are headed for big trouble. Art is human; error is human; ergo, art is error. Inevitably your work... will be flawed. Why? Because you're a human being, and only human beings, warts and all, make art."
"To make art is to sing with the human voice. To do this you must first learn that the only voice you need is the voice you already have."
"The function of the overwhelming majority of your artwork is simply to teach you how to make the small fraction of your artwork that soars."
"If you think good work is somehow synonymous with perfect work, you are headed for big trouble. Art is human; error is human; ergo, art is error. Inevitably your work... will be flawed. Why? Because you're a human being, and only human beings, warts and all, make art."
"To make art is to sing with the human voice. To do this you must first learn that the only voice you need is the voice you already have."
Thursday, November 29, 2007
So Many, Many Books
Every nook and cranny of my house is piled with books. (Actually, I'm kind of suspicious of a house without any.) I usually read three at a time (sometimes more)-- a fiction book for pleasure; non-fiction for story research (right now I'm hooked on the Middle Ages); a book in Spanish or French to keep up my language skills; and then there's the perpetual stack of picture books from the library. (Let's not even get started on magazines...) It's not that I get bored easily-- I think it's rather that there is so much I want to read and not enough time. (Yes, I'm impatient... so many books... so many possibilities...) Obviously this is not exactly the fastest way to read. In fact, I've been wondering lately whether it is normal or even healthy! I'd love to hear what other people's reading habits are, if you'd like to share.
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