A(Notes on Illustration and storyboarding for picture books.)
I feel like there are misconceptions about what it means to be an illustrator. Such as... (a) picture books are only for children, and (b) there is no market for visual storytelling in print versions.
I would like to point out to anyone who doubts that visual storytelling has, on the contrary, continued to enrich and feed our culture. Just look at The New Yorker magazine (who only use drawn illustrations for their many images) the success of children's book illustrators like Jan Brett, ( who deserves it) and the rise in popularity of graphic novels as ways of pushing the envelope in storytelling (Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman" series, "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" by Brian Selzner among many.) There are also cartoon blogs that have taken on a life of their own online, such as The Oatmeal (http://theoatmeal.com/comics/running.)
I would argue that we are voracious and never satisfied consumers of the visual, and that the real challenge for any would-be illustrator will be standing out from the crowd.
As long as there are parents reading to their children at bedtime, as long as we love magazines filled with beautiful full color spreads, as long as we continue to use visual media, there will always be a market.
Inspiration: “Make Good Art” commencement speech by Neil Gaiman (author)
Illustrators to check out…http://www.illustrationweb.us/styles/children
Art by Rebecca Dautremer, Quentin Blake, Jan Brett, Barbara Coomey, Luke Scriven
Totally digging John Muir Law's Guidebook to Nature Drawing and Journaling. It's deepening my observations of my environment. See Dying Queen Annes' Lace below.
What are we?
Where is the human body ranked
among life forms?
Darwin's miracle or God's,
A sentient apex predator
Our strength, our glory,
beauty of our varied topographies
So much pleasure
in touching skin smooth as desert dunes
in climbing Mount Everest
in oyster beds between swaying limbs
the daily revolutions of our orbits
and the devouring of matter
But this homo sapien holds a deeper universe
in the unfolding of mandalas between the ears
in the uncharted, unseen cerebral frontier
a destination worthy of Star Trek wanderings.
I am a planetary body.
I am made of astral dust, extruding clay.
I am this tectonic shifting of a woman's pelvis
feminine tides becoming other
the restless ocean under the navel
the microscopic orgies of digestion
tributaries of iron.
I am an ecosystem.
Gentle forests have been planted by someone
in the sedimentary layers of my skin.
There is singing in the branches of my lungs.
My vegetable stem roots down,
I grow like a tree.
Dear brave explorer with you scalpel, your microscope,
before you brave these dark interior jungles,
You have not yet unearthed the last of my wonders,
or caught my lightning thoughts in a bottle,
or unraveled the terrible reverberations of love
from within my thundering heart.
Someone snapped this photo of me in high school, painting the cafeteria windows. If you look closely you can see that it was Egyptian themed- don't know why.
While doing research for page composition, I found these great illustrations. (I believe they are mostly watercolor and oil paint.)
- People of Twelve Hundred Winters?
-Wizard of Oz
-Desmond and the Very Mean Word
Deep thinker, Problem solver, Illustrator, Photographer, Cyclist, Literature buff, Anthropology nerd, and Science fiction geek.