Whales and Ships and Swallows and Eyes

New things in the Etsy shop! Click on any picture to take you there...

Big Red Lollipop

I've just finished a picture book for Viking, called Big Red Lollipop, written by Rukhsana Khan. I guess it will be out next Spring? I never know these things. I'm waiting to hear from the people with the magnifying glasses whether everything is good to go, (incidentally today I found out that in the wombat book there's a sad little faceless fellow, without eyes or nose, just a sort of wombatty blob. I have to go and fix him with a number three pen for the second print run. If you want the special face-less wombat edition ACT NOW), and then I'll wrap it up and take it in on the subway on my lap, like a child to its first day of kindergarten.

Poor Swine

Wombat Walkabout

Wombat Walkabout is out today I believe.
The Common Wombat was described by William T. Hornaday, Sc. D.(I promise that was his name), in the 1925 companion guide to the newly opened Bronx zoo, as "the most nearly shapeless of all mammals". He went on to say, "Having few thoughts, and seldom using one, it is content to lie around all day and is aroused only with difficulty. We are tempted to ask. "Why is a Wombat?". I mention this not because it is hilarious, but to illustrate why I didn't put many clothes on the wombats, settling for fetching accessories. (Any tailor would agree with Hornaday, the wombat's form presents a challenge.) You might wonder why wombats need either clothes or accessories. Yes, you might.
Anyway, as I was saying the book comes out today. To celebrate this with the author, (Carol Diggory Shields) and editors at Dutton, I made little bundles of accessories as you can see above. The keen observer will note the colors (colours) of the beads match the original, and that I had to hand print the fabric for the shorts. Hmm.

Missed Connections

I have started a new blog here, of drawings based on Missed Connections. I'm staying local for now, and in typical, overly ambitious fashion, am going to try to post one a day.
I'm fascinated by these snippets of interaction, the way people remember and describe one another from their fleeting encounters, and the butterfly lifespan of hope. Or perhaps it's more enduring? Maybe I'll find out.

I Need New Glasses

The Drawing Game Part Eight

So if you are just tuning in, this drawing game has been an unfolding visual conversation with the singer-songwriter Mika. We began with his note, which read, How about we start with a drawing of a girl?, and we are now deep in a surreal land of jungle sets and dapper millipedes. (By way of a burning house of words, an irresponsible baby, a smoky elephant and a dubious contraption.)
Put into words, I think we started out with Yes!, then went through Oh? and Hmm... and Whoa! and then we got to the contraption which was me going Mumble, mumble, mumble, blah, blah, blah, and Mika snuck away, tiptoed around behind and jumped out with HA! on the other side. I think my response is !AH; a face-to-face staring match.
Then again, it's just a drawing.

Making Fun

Sometimes, on a day filled with fires and plane crashes and lost jobs and suicide bombs, not to mention loathsome Valentine's motifs, the only recourse is to amuse oneself at the expense of a long dead stranger. Some might argue Forrest Gump would do the trick. To each, his own.

Inky Forests

As Mika was painting his vibrant jungle, I've been fixating on inky rainforests. The initial inspiration was an early 19th century botanist's drawing of the Australian bush. These drawings above were done over the last few weeks, and evoke, for me at least, the damp smell of moss and fungi, the rustle of millipedes in leaf litter, the snuffle of a bandicoot, the call and response of a whipbird. (Some people find rainforests a bit overwhelming and need to sit with a hanky over their head.)
As wildfires rage in Australia I now can't help seeing a correlation between these damp inky drawings and the charcoal swathe of the ravaged bush.

The Drawing Game Part Seven

So here is the latest addition from Mika. I'll just give you a moment to collect yourselves.

...

I'll admit that it was a surprise. I had to sit down for a while. Make a cup of tea and sit with my back to the drawing, turning now and then to see if there really was a menacing, indigenous gentleman making scary hands at our girl. And then of course I remembered that she's just made of paper, as is he. Paper which can be folded and torn, cut and stained and punctured, embellished and decorated.
I told Mika that he'd painted me into a corner, literally and metaphorically, and he very kindly offered to come up with some ideas and I very politely said, "HANDS OFF, this one's mine!" Because, after all, this is where the fun lies...

Guilty Quilts

Every now and then somebody sends me a calico square and a polite request to draw something on it for a storybook quilt; a quilt of squares illustrated by children's book artists to be auctioned for charity or circulated around regional libraries or thrown over the backs of retired donkeys to keep them warm in winter. Despite my best intentions, (honestly!), the calico squares often get separated from the polite requests in the piles on my desk and before I know it, it's Summer, the donkeys have given up hope, and I'm wracked with guilt. Which is why, when I opened the envelope today with the nicely ironed square of calico, I taped it straight down on my desk and painted an owl on it. Now if I can just track down the letter, and find the envelope, there's a good chance I might even make it to the post office.

Playing Shop

I have been playing shop at Etsy.com. It's been very good fun, making things and arranging them on the shelves and sweeping and dusting, and clearing my throat decisively, but I keep forgetting to actually tell people it's open for business. So here it is. I'll be putting lots more things up this month. Come back often! Tell your friends!

Creepy Christmas

My friends Mary Harron and John Walsh made a short film for the online film festival, Creepy Christmas, for which I contributed a few props. I know it's well past the season and there's nothing bleaker than tinsel in January, but this was never meant to be jolly. Click on the image above to go to the site, and our film is December 24, The Night Before Christmas. Ho.

Christmas Greetings

I'm in Australia, where it's already Christmas Eve. The snow is polystyrene, but the waves are rolling and the kookaburras are laughing and the mangoes are ripe. Wishing you all a happy Christmas, wherever you are in the world...
x Sophie

Drawing Game part 6

Here we go... with a nod to Heath Robinson. A few discerning viewers have questioned the inclusion of sausages in this drawing. I can only refer them to chapter four of George Bracegirdle's Great Art by Great Artists (sadly no longer in print) in which he suggests any composition is improved with sausages.

Drawing Game part 5

Mika has added a smoky elephant to the fray. It's a rather spooky pastiche, leaving me no other option but to... well, you'll see.

Happy Thanksgiving

Please click on the picture above for a comical seasonal amusement.
(Thanks to my clever friend Catherine for the fiddly bits.)

Googily Balloons

Thank you to everyone who came to the Brooklyn Museum on Saturday for the Children's Book Fair. There was an insatiable crowd of balloon hungry children, and in spite of rubbery lips and wheezy lungs and blistery fingers, I made all but three of them happy. As Dan Quayle once said, "Where there are balloons, there will be tears".

Brooklyn Museum Children's Book Fair

I'll be at The Brooklyn Museum on Saturday, November 15, from 1-5pm signing books, backs of hands, foreheads...
I have also planned an elaborate craft project involving balloons, which is guaranteed to make children cry.
Hope to see someone, anyone, there...

Soles of Shoes and Backs of Heads

There's something poetic about the soles of shoes, and something oddly expressive, and vulnerable, about the backs of heads. Incidentally, in China you can buy slips of paper printed with a generic drawing of a man or woman, upon which you write the name of your nemesis, stick it with spit to the sole of your shoe and spend the day happily stomping on them. I may have made up the bit about the spit.