Frustrations

I made this while dealing with some Adobe Illustrator frustrations. You'll note that no part of this wallpaper was made in Adobe Illustrator.

Because I Can

Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes

Even when I was a kid, people - sometimes strangers - would tell me that I ought to draw children's book illustrations. And I wholeheartedly agreed.

When I was 8 I wrote and illustrated a book for my youngest sister. My mom helped me make a hard cover for it out of cardboard and cloth and she stitched in the binding.
Encouraged, I illustrated a bunch more, but those had less impressive staple binding and copy-paper covers.

At the age of 12 I wrote and illustrated another book and submitted it as a 4-H art project at the county fair. I got a blue ribbon and went to the state fair where the judges looked at me as if I had gotten lost.

It's been a long time coming, but I'm proud to present my first ever, full color children's book. It's not technically mine - it's the Amish couple's who published it. I'm just sort of the in-house illustrator. But it's all public domain nursery rhymes and my illustrations, so it feels like mine.

It's 43 pages long, hardcover and is printed on glossy paper with gorgeous, full-bleed color.

You can pick it up in Amish shops in Northern Indiana and you want to order it drop me a line on etsy or facebook  or twitter and I'll get you the contact info for ordering your own copy.

I've got little previews of the illustrations inside here, here and here.

Silent Songbird

I have a condition called Fibyomyalgia. Or Myofascial Pain Syndrome. Or both. My doctors didn't agree and now I don't have health insurance so it's a little unclear.

The main thing is, my muscles hurt.

I'm not a person that this is a big deal for.
Some people have such severe pain that they can't work, it's hard to sleep, and even small household chores can wipe them out for the day. I hold down a full time job, keep my apartment respectable, sell my personal art on the side, volunteer weekly, and have a decent social life.

But every now and again it becomes problematic.

It isn't the biggest problem I've had, but this past week I've had a bit of a pain in my jaw. At first I thought my teeth hurt and I had cavities again and, I won't lie, I was pretty upset. But as I considered it more I realized that my teeth were not bothered by crunching up hard foods, drinking ice-water, or eating sweets - all cavity related issues that popped up last time.

I came to realize that actually my jaw didn't hurt at all in the early morning (like it might if I were grinding my teeth at night) or in the late evening (when, this week, I've been home alone).

Kids, my mouth has been hurting whenever I've been singing! I tend to sing when I'm in the car or the tv is off in my apartment (though I try to not, because I figure my neighbors have never done anything to deserve that)
So I decided to quit.  It's not like I sing well, so what's the big deal?

Oh. Apparently I love to sing. I catch myself trying to sing all the time. I hear the chorus of a song I love and I just want to belt it out. It's been all of two days since I had this revelation and I'm going nuts!

Butterfly Princess

Apparently I've never listed this to my shop before, even though it's a print I designed quite some time ago and presented at other venues. I have several friends who get excited about princesses and formal wear so I drew this especially for them.

Because

Because this site sometimes still gets views, I thought I'd let it be known that I'm shutting it down and starting a new blog over at www.everybodyillustrated.blogspot.com with cartoons and random snippets.

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I know no one reads this any more. I'm ok with that. I just need to write.

It seems like a lot of death is happening lately.

A kid I used to know killed himself this week. It's been years since his family moved away. In my head he's six. His family never even saw it coming.

When I was in high school my friends talked a lot about killing themselves, but most of them never even attempted it. This kid, just out of the blue is gone. No warning signs. No note. Just gone.

I don't usually cry when people die. Maybe because no one I know well died young. Maybe because I don't cry over much anyway. Suicides always make me cry though. Even if I don't know the person at all. It's not so much for them, but the people left behind, trying to figure out why their love wasn't enough.

You know when someone dies of disease or in an accident, even if it's a kid people always say to remember the good times. And you know that at least you had that and that at least you loved each other. But suicide's so cruel, all you can do is wonder what went wrong. When did things start going bad? Last month? Last year? Were they ever good?

I get why people contemplate suicide. Life's hard. Death's easy. I get it.
I always wonder though about suicides. Did they imagine how it would be for their family? For their friends? Could they see how it would play out? Did they care? Do they think about the hole they're leaving?

Whenever I hear teenagers talking about doing something unhealthy. Suicide. Illegal activities. Running away. I always want to ask them if they love their family. I know they'll say yes. They'd stop a bullet for their family. Maybe they would. I don't know. I just think if you love people you do what's best for them. Sometimes what's best for people is for you to live a good life. Graduate. Get a job. Pay your bills. Visit at Christmas. Be polite. Stay alive.
It doesn't take a whole lot to love the people who love you back.