Thursday, 7 June 2012

A Childish Perspective?

The problem with authoring is that one can never be completely objective about what one writes. Or draws.

Each new book, communication card or picture I create I throw myself into the unknown. Each one a leap of faith.

I draw what is real for me. If I look at my picture and can immediately 'feel' it, I take that as it being 'right'.

And I just hope that others feel the same.

It was like that with Welly Walks. I didn't start out to write a book to teach acceptance. I wasn't drawing a picture to show equality. I was re-living the joyous puddle related memories of my able bodied childhood and my wheelie-using adulthood - competing for 'the best splash', being fascinated by how ripples moved, and seeing my own tyre tracks in cool shapes behind me (Sorry, carpet-shop-manager, for leaving wheelie track 'donuts' all over your shop. I know I'm 'grown up' but it was too tempting.)

As I sat and drew I would pause, watching in my mind the movement and expressions of the children as they played. The curve of the spine as one accelerates on wheels, the tip-toe stance of excited expectation.

And still, when I read it, those pictures become alive and I promise myself that even if I live to 100, I will keep my childish joy in life's experiences. Because it adds a beauty that money cannot buy.

And while I have no idea whether my creations will sell, I won't stop creating until my body gives me no choice.

Because...

...I have never seen them have a negative effect and...

...well...
...it's fun.

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