Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Attic History

Everytime I visit my mom, the trip ends the same way. 
At the last minute, she says,
"Wait, I have something for you."
Boxes of nostalgia have made their way into my library.  Filling the gaps between all of the amazing books I have spent reading with my daughter. 

Fast forward a year later, I was dusting the shelves of my library, I found myself drawn to Volume 2 of Childcraft, Stories and Fables.  I was transported back to the 1970's.   I would curl up, reading, in my white, pleather bean bag chair.  I not only remember this book, I know it backwards and forwards.  The same stories I've read to my daughter from her updated versions.  But, these stories are mine.  These illustrations are embedded in my head and will always be my point of reference when I hear these stories.


Beautiful Artwork, from the Boy who Cried Wolf




Not from Stinky Cheese Man

I love books.

 
My Little House on the Prairie books have been read and re-read.  Memories of grocery night at Meijer's, picking up dinner at McDonalds and then home to watch my favorite series brought to life.  Little House on the Praire was a weekly ritutal.  Oh, how I wanted an adopted brother like Albert.  (I settled for the new boy down the street- (Not from Mankato, MN, imagining how great it would be if my parents would adopt him.)
How many times have you read your favorite series?


I rode horses everyday. 
Nice shag hairstyle.



I loved drawing.  Drawing horses was natural.  This book found its way back to me via another delivery from mom.



My reading list was filled with Black Beauty, Flicka, Black Stallion and Misty of Chincoteague. Golden Prize was a favorite equine anthology. 



Around ten years old my interests expanded to:

Humor + Horses + Reading + Cartooning = Love


My experiences have brought me full circle to a life as an author/illustrator for children. Created and nourished by my family filling my days with love and surrounding me with books.

Packing up and saving 40+ years of my history and then handing this gift back to me = priceless

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