As if leading a life as an artist wasn't challenging enough, I decided to become an author. What was I thinking?
I was fortunate to be at-home while raising my children. However, when the evenings came, I was eager to get a break and wear lipstick for the first time in weeks. Signing up for a local drawing class 2 hours once a week was a start. When hubby came through the door, I was gone! Watercolour, acrylic, and oil classes were to follow. For the last 15 years, I've worked with water-miscible oils and have never looked back. I'd like to say I was born to be a painter. I was not. It's hours of dedication to the canvas. But in this self discovery, art became my sanctuary. And it was a lot more fun and cheaper than therapy! It continues to nourish and feed my soul. I love what I do. But as rewarding and fulfilling being an artist is, it often challenges the delicate ego. So why wander into the labyrinth of the book business?
My father, Harold L. Lake, was a writer. Not a professional one, but he did it on the side at the dinning room table, and more so in his retirement. He was a great communicator. An engaging one. He commanded his audience. For every special occasion, he wrote lengthy humorous poems for his family members. His poems were prefaced with 'Specially made card. Not available in drug stores'. There was a warm familiarity about this phrase that herald the laughs to follow. Posthumously, my mother edited his memoirs of him as a WWII soldier, of the 166 Newfoundland Field Regiment, Army Artillery. Perhaps they left us up There is his legacy. He wrote like he spoke. The hand written rough copy had run on sentences, misspellings, and lacked punctuation. With the objection to maintain my dad's intended tone, the editing was a labour of love. Despite the lack of having formal writing skills, his words were honest. My point is, he wrote down his thoughts and his story, and shared them with the world. The rest took care of itself.
Why the birds? again my childhood is fondly remembered. My father would sit on his bed with his legs crossed, creating a space fondly referred to as 'The Bird's Nest'. I'd sit in this 'birds nest' while watching the birds outside the bedroom's picture pane window and feel safe, loved and secure. This is my story.
Publishing my paintings into a book is my way of telling my story and sharing my art. Authors tend to write what they know to be true. Nesting Grounds is a book of birds and bird's nest, but it is also a book of nostalgia and nurturing. And as I navigate the book business, blogs, websites, and social media marketing...the rest will take care of itself.
'Nesting Grounds' will be available June, 2019.
I was fortunate to be at-home while raising my children. However, when the evenings came, I was eager to get a break and wear lipstick for the first time in weeks. Signing up for a local drawing class 2 hours once a week was a start. When hubby came through the door, I was gone! Watercolour, acrylic, and oil classes were to follow. For the last 15 years, I've worked with water-miscible oils and have never looked back. I'd like to say I was born to be a painter. I was not. It's hours of dedication to the canvas. But in this self discovery, art became my sanctuary. And it was a lot more fun and cheaper than therapy! It continues to nourish and feed my soul. I love what I do. But as rewarding and fulfilling being an artist is, it often challenges the delicate ego. So why wander into the labyrinth of the book business?
My father, Harold L. Lake, was a writer. Not a professional one, but he did it on the side at the dinning room table, and more so in his retirement. He was a great communicator. An engaging one. He commanded his audience. For every special occasion, he wrote lengthy humorous poems for his family members. His poems were prefaced with 'Specially made card. Not available in drug stores'. There was a warm familiarity about this phrase that herald the laughs to follow. Posthumously, my mother edited his memoirs of him as a WWII soldier, of the 166 Newfoundland Field Regiment, Army Artillery. Perhaps they left us up There is his legacy. He wrote like he spoke. The hand written rough copy had run on sentences, misspellings, and lacked punctuation. With the objection to maintain my dad's intended tone, the editing was a labour of love. Despite the lack of having formal writing skills, his words were honest. My point is, he wrote down his thoughts and his story, and shared them with the world. The rest took care of itself.
Why the birds? again my childhood is fondly remembered. My father would sit on his bed with his legs crossed, creating a space fondly referred to as 'The Bird's Nest'. I'd sit in this 'birds nest' while watching the birds outside the bedroom's picture pane window and feel safe, loved and secure. This is my story.
Publishing my paintings into a book is my way of telling my story and sharing my art. Authors tend to write what they know to be true. Nesting Grounds is a book of birds and bird's nest, but it is also a book of nostalgia and nurturing. And as I navigate the book business, blogs, websites, and social media marketing...the rest will take care of itself.
'Nesting Grounds' will be available June, 2019.
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