Saturday, November 1, 2025

small bits of paper






Okay, here are some illustrations. Farmhouse by Sophie Blackall. Planting the Trees of Kenya by Claire A. Nivola. Make Meatball Sings by Matthew Burgess, pictures by Kara Kramer. Interesting--the first two were written and illustrated by the same person. Like Miss Rumphius, by Barbara Cooney. I wonder if I am drawn to stories that are illustrated by the same person who wrote them.

I am going to try to name some things about illustration in general that I notice in these images. They are colorful. They are detailed--they do not forsake the detail! To the edges, they are detailed. They must have taken more than 1 sitting to create. They involve patterns --in fabric. They have the capacity to show landscapes (show the long view).

What distinguishes an illustration from a painting? The people are flattened. Things are kind of like a caricature of what they really are. People are doing things--in interesting positions, in activity. In real life, maybe they are not doing all these things at once. But maybe they are? Illustration allows for stylization.

What else? in the book about Cortita Kent, it talks about her asking her students to make a small window into a piece of cardboard to make a FINDER. "She wanted her students to look at ordinary things until the little details came alive." I think this is what some good illustrations do.

It reminds me of Anne LaMott, in Bird by Bird: who also writes about Index cards. She can jot down inspiration wherever she is, she can capture the specifics she wants to remember. She's also into small bits of paper. She's into short assignments. She keeps on her desk (p. 16) a one-inch picture frame to remind her of short assignments. That's kind of the concept of Bird by Bird. step by step. You don't have to see it all. "All I am going to do right now, for example, is write that one paragraph that sets the story in my hometown, in the late fifties, when the trains were still running. I am going to paint a picture of it, in words, on my word processor." The chapter where she talks about the 1-inch picture frame is the same one where she references what becomes the book title. So, she must think it's important.

Brian Doyle is into small bits of paper. He also writes notes to remember something flashing before him or through him.

These illustrations - in their details, kind of honor that 1-inch picture frame. If you looked at any particular corner, you could still be charmed.

Sometimes (maybe for years) I've thought I'd like to be an illustrator. I think I still do. Something feels daunting about it. Because when I look at illustrators' work, I think, that must have taken such a long time. I'd have to do it all perfectly (if it's painting). I've felt daunted by painting humans. But maybe I can keep looking. Noticing what appeals to me. Have fun with the patterns, designs, fabrics (that's the part I've leaned into--the inanimate objects). I also am interested to notice the differences between illustration--and the possibilities for imagination (like in editorial illustration) versus painting/representation. I wonder how starting to illustrate may change my ability to paint/represent. I guess I don't really know without trying it. 

I also like to sit down and complete an art project in 1 morning! The type of illustration I like (and for a storybook!) requires coming back to. I am a patient person but am I that kind of a patient person? 
Is some of the difficulty having the drive/motivation/exact whim/exact flavor/headspace of returning to something. When I'm in it, it feel good. But leaving it alone and coming back to it another day makes it feel like a chore. Maybe it can feel less like a chore if I can look at it with 1 inch picture frames--take a certain feature of it and try to see that FEATURE anew. I might still need to start with faces because I feel less confident about that.

Okay! Thoughts. thanks.