Christmas, in a nutshell.

No Christmas is complete without a last minute helping of work and on Sunday I had a few illustrations printed in the San Francisco Chronicle. It was for their 2009 Geography Quiz, and never have I learned so much from a project. Did you know that duelling is legal in Paraguay? You must be a blood donor however. That is a fact. It was a wonderfully pleasant assignment, if a little hectic with the many many family members whose arrival for the holidays coincided with the deadline!

It certainly has been a whirlwind. This Christmas has been a whole new experience indeed, and as if to confirm that conclusion the weather has put it's own uncommon twist on things. Day upon day of ice and hail and sleet and whistling winds turned the usually mild village of Saundersfoot into a giant ice rink. The hills were like glaciers and we've all been shuffling around like penguins in a bid not to hit the deck every few steps. 

There was also sunshine- fleeting but magnificent. We enjoyed it while it lasted.

Now 2010 is peeking across the last stretch of day, and I can't even believe it. Happy New Year everybody- I hope yours is a fun-filled and happy one!

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree....

Fully aware that this could be my last Christmas in England for a little while, I embarked on the task of decorating this year with extra enthusiasm. Anybody who is familiar with my usual levels of Christmas-time exuberance would realise this is no small achievement.

The tree is a fragrant individual with much character. I am nothing if not infatuated with it. My goodness, it smells like heaven.

There have also been frosty walks and paper bags of roasted chestnuts and songs of the season creeping merrily into my consciousness. Looking around at the lights and the shops and the general abundance of gingerbread...it seems everybody is fully submerged in the magic of Christmas. Penelope Dullaghan says it better than I do, right here.

The German ornaments are out in force, complete with the customary tug of nostalgia for all of my Christmases past. Next year I should be back in the States, starting new traditions of my own with the Boy Pickle, but for now it's hard not to revel in the familiar traditions of my own family Christmas. 

In my little corner of the world (things are rather exciting).

A big new illustration job has compelled me to rearrange my work space/ sleeping quarters. Now everything is backwards and I've tried to climb out of the wrong side of the bed twice in a row. But finally my desk is under the window, and that's worth walking into the wall and stubbing my toes for. 

I write this with a smile on my face as I think about sensible things like hand lettering, and characters and layouts and pacing and deadlines. The smile transforms into a look of terror when I think about the deadline, actually.

So armed with a brand new teacup (thanks Kate) and a pen collection that seems to be breeding, it's time for action stations. I'm ready. Infact, I've already begun....

the Middle Lands.

Firstly, a thank you to those of you who left such generous comments on my previous post. What a treat it was!

Now, I've been away a little while, spending the last two weeks in't North, like.

It was a fortnight of firsts, up there in middle England.

The first frost of the season.

The first firework display (followed by many millions more).

The first flu of about a decade (and hopefully the last for the next decade...)

The first inclination felt in a while to learn a foreign language. Oui. Le sigh.

So, on the scent of work, I moseyed on up to the place where my Auntie Mary calls home. My Auntie is one of those clever people who knows lots of long words and amusing anecdotes and lives at a leisurely pace. 

She resides in the heart of the 'black country'- named for the coal mining (etc) of yore. Apparently it's imported from Poland these days. Oh well, I'm sure it does favours for the air quality...

The houses are visions from rural fairytales- cobbled bricks and smoking chimneys, squeezed between fields full of horses. In my head I can hear Forrest saying 'Orses', in his 'English' accent inadvisably based on Black Adder and Monty Python. 'Ooorses!'. Yes dear.

By the end of my stay, it was hard to bid farewell to all the good wine, open fires, paint pots and Bella the pigmy goat. Still, with my lonely desk a-calling, and Ellie the dog was wondering where her mid-morning cups of tea had gone....it was time to come on home. Hello again! 

When work feels more like play (it's a good day!).

In a bit of a departure from my usual marker-pen adventures, most of my week has been spent painting the adorable 'Smudge'. Talk about therapy. How relaxing it has been to do away with my usually fidgety self, and surrender to the organic nature of creating a painting that comes to life only after stage upon stage and multiple layers of paint. Who knew I had so much patience?

I've spent so many hours in it's company that I've reached the point of zero objectivity, with equal levels of love and dissatisfaction. Give me a year and I might have developed a useful opinion on it. Until then as with all commissions, I just have to cross my fingers and hope it is well received!

Eye of newt, and toe of frog. (Happy Halloween!)

The pumpkin is a splendid one this year. After being elbow-deep in acrylic paints all week, I couldn't resist being reunited with the marker pens for a quick drawing before the carving began. Toasted pumpkin seeds are a welcome bonus. Yes please.

Time is dissolving at an unimaginable rate. It's November in just a day? mmm I've always liked November. I suppose everybody harbours a fondness for their birthday month, until the passing of another year seems more horrifying than a thing to celebrate. Oh well, 25 isn't something to feel too worried about I spose. I just regard it with a similar level of distaste as I would, say.. the spongy part of a jaffa cake, that is; viewed with mild concern...

I'm currently preoccupied with pumpkins and chestnuts and the treasures of Autumn. Beach walks with Ellie, papery leaves fluttering through the forest and rediscovering a long lost fondness for honest-to-God painting. Brushes and everything...

More on the painting shortly though. First things first, Ellie is giving me a meaningful look suggesting I'd better find some boots that are made for walking (Wales = wellies). Alrighty then.

Brain Pain.

My head is somewhere beyond overload with putting together promo booklets. I've printed a million little pages, and layed them out in 5000 permutations and combinations. I've rearranged them 500 more times. I've stuck them on my wall, I've arranged them on the floor, Ellie the dog has walked on them (twice) and I've even dreamt about them. The unfortunate thing is- I'm more confused than I was when I started. I'm going for a 12-page mini-booklet- which seemed like such an easy task when I first thunk it. Not so.

As if I didn't have more than enough pictures already I keep thinking of better, cleverer, irresistible (and totally unnecessary) ideas. Illustrations that would help so much (not in the least). Perfectionism is such a saboteur...

Plus, I need a more objective critic than the biased and uncooperative duo that is my left and right brain. Always arguing, y'know? 

I've also drawn a Chinese dragon for a little side project I'm working on. At this point it can go right ahead and swallow me up....