illustration Archives - Page 4 of 19

May 10, 2014 In appreciation, art, drawing, illustration By Patricia Saxton

The Sweetest Word

Mommy. Mummy. Mama. Mutti. However it’s said, it’s one of the loveliest words in the human language.

Before, of course, it becomes M-oooooom. And yes, in between the sleep deprivation and scream-stifling and hair-graying moments ~ it’s been the sweetest sound I’ve known; a sound full of love and trust. Love and trust that my mother earned before me, and that I hope I’ve earned during my own Mommy years.

Which, come to think of it, are years that really never end, dear children… because whether you know it or not, whether you want us to or not ~ while we won’t continue to make your bed or pack your sandwiches or read you nighttime stories, and (promise) we won’t hassle you about how late you get home when you’re 35 ~ we will worry and praise and feel your hurts and thrill with your joys and wish for your happiness with all our hearts even as you grow old, too; such is a mother’s love.

Celebrating mother’s everywhere ~ have a beautiful Mother’s Day!

April 25, 2014 In appreciation, art, color, communication, creativity, design, drawing, fine art, illustration, imagination, inspiration, life and the universe, philosophy, skill, words and language, work and play By Patricia Saxton

A Plethora of P’s / #70: Pen (and Ink)

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

“The pen is mightier than the sword.”

I’ve always liked this quote. It assumes the great power of words, language and intention, which are just a few of my favorite things, along with pens themselves, of course.

[Side note: I’d always assumed this was a line from Shakespeare. Sounds like it ought to be, right? But I was wrong. This is what learned: This line was quoted in 1839 from a play written by Britain’s Edward Bulwer-Lytton, both an Author and Politician of his day. No one remembers the play (Richelieu: or, the Conspiracy) but we’ve all heard the line. Apparently he’s also famous for the opening “It was a dark and stormy night”. I just love learning new things. 🙂 ]

In any event – back to P for pen. This is actually a guest P, created by a friend of mine and presented as a surprise, which truly delighted me. She’d taken a Zendangle course, and this was something she produced. Isn’t it great?! I adore it.

It’s also great because pens have always been an important positive in my own world. I am, in fact, most comfortable with a pen in hand ~ I just think better with a pen in hand. I’m also able to doodle if things are dull on the other side of the table or the other end of the phone, or in meetings, or just as an unconscious release of nervous energy. They’re great for making lists, and of course, for jotting down flashes of brilliance (that may or may not be brilliant on second look). My thoughts flow most easily when writing. As if the connection between mind and hand takes just enough longer than the one from mind to mouth, allowing for a richer expression, rather than a quick one.

Pens and I go way back. As a child I was always drawing and writing. My mother, a poet, was always writing. My parents had fallen in love through letter-writing. Pens were the natural order of things.

Then as my drawing skills developed, I got more and more courageous and soon stepped out of my comfort zone with pencils (which can be erased) to pen and ink (which cannot be erased). This is when I learned, sometimes the hard way, that mistakes a.) happen and b.) are not always remedied, but c.) can sometimes be made into something better. A life lesson from an unlikely source, but a good one I’ve carried with me.

So I, yes, am grateful for pens. And I do believe they are mighty. <3

Here are a few pen and inks from my archives.

(see our ongoing Plethora of P’s here)

April 6, 2014 In art, black and white, creativity, drawing, illustration, imagination, life and the universe, work and play By Patricia Saxton

Here But Not Here

I escaped today. Courtesy of three little pigs, a pencil and, I suppose, either my inner child or a light-hearted muse. It’s part of a project I’m working on, but, as sometimes happens, it took a turn of its own accord, and I was amused. It’s good to be able to entertain oneself, after all. : ) To escape life’s more serious avenues and put your own smile on it.

So the turn made me smile, and also reminded me how the making of art is both an immersion and escape. It’s like plunging into the world, while fleeing from it at the same time. Engaged with the world, but not part of it. Maybe it’s the same for the art viewer ~ depending on the piece, a feeling of being somehow here but not here. The connection happens with the senses. Of course thought is involved at different points along the way, but if you start to think about it too much, some of the magic thins.

That said, there wasn’t too much thought involved in this one. The idea had lodged in my mind well before I picked up a pencil, and my job was to simply enjoy the drawing-it-up part, and within that process be transported, for a little while, to that familiar place that is here but not here.

March 27, 2014 In appreciation, art, color, communication, creativity, design, illustration, imagination, inspiration, life and the universe, philosophy, words and language, work and play By Patricia Saxton

A Plethora of P’s / #69: Palette

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

Palette is defined as a range of colors, especially those typically used by an artist. But we all have what I think of as a personal palette. Our palette can reflect how we feel ~ or project how we wish to be perceived. What we wear, the colors in our home, foods arranged on a plate.

And surely our personalities have color too ~ the sunny, the brooding, the comic, the serious ~ the whole wide range. And within that, are the shades of our moods. And around all that, there are the colors in our aura. (Imagine, what a kaleidoscope of brilliance we all must make together!)

And beyond all that ~ beyond what they may represent, beyond their gift of making the world more, well, colorful ~ colors, in my opinion, in all their tones and hues and flavors, are essentially magical. They can calm and soothe, they can excite and energize. They can heal, and they can disrupt. They’re emotional. They tell stories. They’re loud or soft, subtle and sensitive, harsh, tender, generous; they’re unyielding, protective, submissive, lighthearted, stormy, hot, warm, cool. They are infinite and inexhaustibly interchangeable. There are worlds within worlds of just the color red alone. The whole spectrum of expression is unfathomable.

So, with all that possibility, you can mix your palette to your heart’s content ~ a dash here, a broad stroke there, a sprinkling of this, a spot of that. (Note: mixing with love and a generous pinch of harmony produces the best results.) However you please, there’s magic for the making, if not only a lift for the spirit.

(see our ongoing Plethora of P’s here)

December 30, 2013 In art, craftsmanship, creativity, design, illustration, imagination By Patricia Saxton

Black with Milk, Please

It’s true, I love my tea. Not just any tea, mind you. Black, strong with robust flavor, a dollop of milk, no sugar, thank you. Herbal tea is nice, too, but doesn’t satisfy in quite the same way. So there you have it.

I didn’t always drink so much tea. I wasn’t raised among tea-drinkers, but early on I opted away from coffee, primarily because in order for it to taste good I needed to feed it lots of milk and sugar, and for all that trouble, why not just have coffee ice cream instead (with hot fudge on top, of course)? (What, you don’t see my logic?)

In any event, I was a natural for tea. British/Scottish blood, all that, and I’m rather fond of it, and that’s that. It’s marvelously friendly, it’s calming and uplifting at the same time, and it’s got this great reputation for solving just about anything (have some tea, dear…!), with sometimes that “anything” including all the ills of the world. It’s good stuff, tea.

My love of tea also lead me to create daily “morning tea” posts on my Patricia Saxton / Saxton Studio facebook page. By now you’ve probably realized I have a thing for working with themes, and I’ve found it’s generally easiest (and more fun) to use subjects one likes a lot. So tea it was, and it turns out those posts have been nicely received. Sometimes I grab nifty teacup or teapot photos from various sources, sometimes I create original designs, and a selection of the latter are included below (all but the vintage photos, which I tossed in for added flavor) …. seemed like a good compilation to end the year, with all the tea that’s seen me through innumerable hours of illustrating, writing, designing and pesky deadlines, not to mention long, wonderful chats around the kitchen table.

Here’s to tea, and all the lovely things it represents.

December 7, 2013 In art, books, children's books, creativity, design, drawing, illustration, imagination, inspiration, peace By Patricia Saxton

Holiday Goodies from Saxton Studio

It’s that magical, hectic, gift-giving time of year! And again I add my voice to the chorus of choices, with gifts about reading and imagination.

I’m truly grateful – and pleased as punch – that my books are enjoyed and continue to sell year after year, and I extend a heartfelt Thank You to all of you who’ve supported my efforts!

If you know anyone else who might like to give or receive these books and products, please feel free to share the love and pass this post along. To purchase, a click on the image above will take you to my Amazon Author page. Links to individual books and related gifts are listed on my blog’s Shop page!

Wishing you every blessing this holiday season.
Don’t forget to feel the magic!

November 30, 2013 In appreciation, art, fine art, illustration, inspiration, painting, poetry By Patricia Saxton

Day is Done

Dark Sky / © Patricia Saxton

The Day is Done
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

November 24, 2013 In art, books, books & stuff, children's books, craftsmanship, creativity, design, drawing, illustration, imagination, intelligence, words and language By Patricia Saxton

The Conjuring of Beasts and Things

I feel like I should be handing out cigars. Well, not quite yet ~ but maybe I oughta stock up in anticipation, as I’ve reached the final stretch of my long walk into the magical world of dragons.

It’s a good feeling when months of creating ~ revising, adding on, taking away, nurturing and bonding with creatures that somehow feel alive in your mind, made real through your hands, with paper, pen, pencil, brush and keyboard ~ finally comes together. Like carrying a child for nine months, you find you’re anxious to give birth. Like rehearsing a play, the hour comes, the curtain rises, it’s showtime. There’s relief, trepidation and confidence, all mixed in. Cigars and (more likely) flowers are shared. And we’re almost there.

Once it’s edited and packed off to press, once it’s printed and bound and shipped out to the Amazon’s and Barne’s & Noble’s of the world, it’s all very tidy looking. For any illustrated book like this, the pages show a certain level of thought and detail and complexity, but not the background steps ~ not the conjuring, the sketches, the fine-tunings, the first, second third, fourth drafts, the hundreds of decisions along the way. The “fitting in time” when there really isn’t any, which means a pretty grueling schedule. It’s quite the process… satisfying in many ways, invigorating in others, tiring in others, and always hope that at the end of the line it will be well-received.

This will probably be my last book of this”trilogy”: mermaids, fairies, now dragons. And that’s a good place to stop. But there are other works that’ve been waiting backstage ~ stories, poetry, paintings ~ so it certainly won’t be the last of me.

For right now though, I’m off to dot those final i’s and cross the last t’s. Then my publisher will have a whack at it, and I’ll start ordering those cigars in honor of birthing more beasts and things. (Due dates to come … stay tuned!)

November 21, 2013 In appreciation, art, color, craftsmanship, creativity, design, drawing, fine art, illustration, inspiration, painting, skill By Patricia Saxton

Twelve Months of Flowers

If only it were true. Unless you count holly berries, there’s really not much in the way of floral color in northeast winter months.

But “Twelve Months of Flowers” can be had via art prints, from the series published 1n 1730 by renowned British horticulturist and author Robert Furber. Mr. Furber’s name is highly attributed to these exquisite prints, and while I’m grateful that he had the insight, substantial research and knowledge (and, no doubt, the funds) to produce the collection, I’m mostly interested in the artistry.

We had two of these prints hanging in our dining room during my growing-up years – one May, one November, the months of my parent’s birthdays. Admired by all, they adorned a modest space with a rich, subtle elegance, (and now that I think of it, may have had an influence on my own interest in drawing things botanical) ~ but in all those years, while we probably did, I don’t remember talking about the artist. Regardless, for some reason they lodged in my mind’s eye today ~ perhaps an unconscious nod to my parent’s wedding anniversary? ~ so I went looking.

First of all, they are hand-colored engravings, produced by English engraver Henry Fletcher from paintings of Flemish-born artist Pieter Casteels . (They also produced an equally stunning second series, Twelve Months of Fruits.) Each work is a glorious detail of plants in seasonal bloom, with each plant numbered, and, at the time, a list of the corresponding names. More than 400 plant species were featured. This was no small project.

And so a few centuries later, I thank them ~ all three of them: Furber, Fletcher and Casteels ~ for their fine, luscious collaboration of study, talent and skill. They are so beautiful, I might even venture to call them a labor of love. But that’s what art is.

October 8, 2013 In appreciation, art, communication, creativity, design, drawing, illustration, inspiration By Patricia Saxton

A Plethora of P’s / #47: Perfection

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

A grand old oak. Moonlight on a tranquil sea. The timed-just-right one-liner. A child’s first alphabet. These are perfection.

And you (yes ~ you) are perfection. In all your realness, your uniquely you-ness, just the way nature made you, flaws and all. It’s not measured by the length of your legs, the width of your belly, or whether you might not be so good at baseball or science.

Unless you’re a jet engine, perfection is as nature made you. And nothing is more perfect, nothing so magnificently intricate and complex that runs more efficiently nor encompasses more bounty, grace, grandeur and passion than nature.

An exquisite rose reminds us of the world’s beauty; its thorns remind us that there is always a purpose beyond what meets the eye. An ugly plant may not elicit oohs and ahhs, but it might perhaps hold a cure for cancer.

We’re all part of nature’s fabric. We all have beauty, we all have thorns. We all have gifts, and reason to be here. Each and every one of us. Flawed, and marvelously, perfectly ourselves.