Showing posts from July, 2019

Update on The Sea

I posted a piece titled The Sea on June 20.  That morning the first item in my inbox was a message from WWF,  the World Wildlife Fund announcing that there are 150 metric tons of plastic in the oceans.  Every minute a dump truck’s worth of plastics pours in on top of that. This is more than I can pick up in a walk on the beach.  We mustn’t let this go on but what can we do? You know how Mr. Rogers said when something terrible happens you should look for the helpers? I've been looking for them and I'll share a few with you.   I'm sure you've been looking too, and I'd love to hear what you know. I've been on the WWF mailing list since I  adopted a Siberian Tiger in Teddy’s name.   He was so beside himself with joy we were sorry to explain that the  Tiger would not actually be coming to live  in Brooklyn.  Teddy got a nice citation and a stuffed tiger a nd Mr. Tiger got a little help in maintaining his habitat.  I checked out WWF on Charit

Christmas in July

Merry Christmas, six months from now.  I thought I'd show you a page from my current project; I'm illustrating some of my favorite Christmas Carols and putting them in a book. I'm going to show you "Angels we Have Heard on High" because one, it's a beautiful song and I love it and two, Sam told me when he was little he thought "In Excelsis Deo" meant "Jesus lives in Chelsea." Well, Emannuel means "Lord with Us' and I kind of like the thought of Jesus living just a few blocks away. Here's is how this drawing has evolved. The first pencil marks.  I have a vague sense of what I want and I feel pretty tentative. I think about the composition for a long time before even making a pencil mark.  I look at my collection of pictures of angels and try   some really vague sketches on cheap paper that I throw away. Then I move onto my Arches watercolor block, 140 pound, cold press paper.  It ha

Happy Birthday, Jessie

Happy Birthday, Jessie! 7/9/79 One of My Best Days  The original due date for our first child was late in June, but July came and still no baby.  I got on a Fifth Avenue bus after a Doctor’s appointment where I was told, once again, to be patient.  A woman saw me and leapt up to give me her seat.  When I thanked her she said, pointing at my belly, “Well, I’m a nurse and, Honey, I’m not delivering a baby on this bus.” I said, “I wouldn’t mind, I’m way past my due date.” The old lady sitting next to me said, “Your baby’s late? It’ll be wrinkled." "Really?" "Like staying in the bathtub too long--You get all wrinkled." When you’re pregnant everybody has something to say. So we waited.  My mother woke up on July 3rd and said, “It’ll be a girl on the ninth.”  Mom was always right, but I didn’t think I had another week in me. On Sunday, July 8th, Arthur put me on a forced march from our home on Horatio Street to Chinatown, a dim sum lunch a