"Today the greatest challenge in publishing is distribution and discoverability. As a result, sites like [PictureBooksReview] are more important than ever to discerning readers, new authors and independent publishers."
-Steve Floyd, chief executive officer of August House books

"The interview is so amazing! I appreciate you picking up on all these aspects of what I've been doing. It's always great to talk with someone who understands what goes into these things."

- Jose Lucio, self-published author of Heave Ho!
Showing posts with label Other Favorites. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Other Favorites. Show all posts


Atomics for the Millions (1947)

Atomics for the Millions
Written by Maxwell Leigh Eidinoff and Hyman Ruchlis

Illustrated by Maurice Sendak

McGraw Hill Book Company

If there's one thing I learned from The Phantom Menace teaser trailer, it's that every generation has a legend, every journey has a first step, and every saga has a beginning. Or something like that. In this case, that legend was a teenager named Maurice Bernard Sendak, attending Lafayette High in Brooklyn, and getting his first big break when his science teacher, Hyman Ruchlis, asked him if he would be interested in illustrating a book he was co-writing with Maxwell Leigh Eidinoff, who was a part of the Atomic Bomb Project at Columbia University and the University of Chicago.

He was 18 years old at the time, and was paid $100 in exchange for his efforts. Prior to this, Maurice's claim to fame had been comic strips in his high school literary magazine.

Copies of this book now go for up to $1,500, so I wasn't able to acquire one to review it, but trying to glean as much as I can about it online, I read that it was intended to be an “amazingly clear and non-technical book [that] actually enables the reader to understand the basic principles behind the development of atomic energy, without any previous scientific or mathematical training.”

I like the cover very much. People of all colors - white, yellow... very dark blue... all walking toward a brighter tomorrow, a tomorrow brought to you by atomic energy! Who wouldn't want to get behind that? 1947 was the same year that the Truman Doctrine was created to stem the spread of communism, the Cold War ha begun in earnest, and the Doomsday Clock was introduced. So it goes.

Maurice Sendak

If anyone was marching off toward a brighter tomorrow, it was certainly Sendak himself. Eighteen of his original drawings for Atomics for the Millions have been acquired by The Rosenbach here in Philadelphia, along with the original contract he signed with the authors.

Atomics for the Millions

Atomics for the Millions

Atomics for the Millions

Atomics for the Millions

Thanks to Collecting Children's Books for the scans!


Journey to Jazzland (2013)

Written by Gia Volterra De Saulnier

Illustrated by Emily Zieroth

Flying Turtle Publishing

In this story, a group of instruments must journey to the mythic Jazzland, and there to get in touch with their true nature. It begins with Windy Flute getting out of line during a classical music performance, to the consternation of the stern conductor.

"Where do you think you are - Jazzland?"

What was clearly initially meant as a slur, becomes a siren call. On her journey, she comes across a variety of lethargic instruments, more than willing to accompany her on her quest.

In a way, the story mirrors Gia's own discovery of jazz:

Many years ago, I went to the University of Lowell and heard jazz playing in the lobby. At that time, the head of Woodwinds did not like the idea of me wanting to learn jazz, and so he forced me to have classical lessons and jazz lessons, but before I could start even taking jazz lessons, I needed to audition for the "Jazz Studies" program.

She's now been playing jazz for over 20 years, and has coupled that love with her first picture book.

There is a long bridge which separates the real world from Jazzland.

"Is that the bridge we have to cross?" Spitz's voice quivered.

Noticing the lake beneath the bridge, Windy asked, "What is that lake called?

"It's called Improv Lake. Crazy things happen to anyone who falls in there."

And so they play their music, and the bridge becomes more corporeal and firm beneath their feet, and soon the world they left becomes the shadow, and Jazzland the reality.


Lesky Lee, Monster of Monsters (2015)

Written by Matt Bergin

Illustrated by Zach Wideman

October has just begun, and the cool days of autumn are here in earnest. I was very happy to receive a copy of Matt Bergin and Zach Wideman's Lesky Lee, Monster of Monsters. They had previously collaborated oBlank Slater, The Boy With The Dry-Erase Face, which definitely had a grim, slightly unsettling feel to it. This book is more classically Halloween, filled with Universal Movie monsters and other classic creatures - I saw Cthulu and a flying monkey - all haunting the dreams of the young heroine: Lesky Lee.

The nightmares take their toll on the girl, as nightmares must. She begins to become a bit of a monster herself, behaving beastly to her parents and classmates.

During Free Play, she trampled her schoolmates' toys like a rampaging dragon.
At Lunch, she devoured her schoolmate's snack like a greedy ogre.
When she wasn't grumpy like a goblin...
...she was zonked like a zombie!

Clearly, something must be done!

This is a rather long picture book, as picture books go. 39 pages... but fully illustrated throughout. We're treated to lots of images of Lesky fighting her way through the nightmare land, ripping the limbs from Frankenstein's monster, shaving the wolfman,..

...all in the service of allowing Lesky to return to normalcy. Normalcy, in this case, is a happy dream world filled with ponies and princesses and gumball gardens, apparently. No monsters in sight.

I enjoyed the wit of the story and the illustrations - and the character of Lesky - but I was a bit disappointed by the blandness of the seeming resolution. Then:

Only being moderately hip myself, I was later informed that this is a nod to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Regardless, what follows - and what, it turns out, is the true arc of the tale - is Lesky realizing that she actually misses her nightmares. She liked  all the monsters haunting her dreams! They drove her crazy, but at least they were interesting! Who wouldn't want Cthulu hanging out in their subconscious?

"This boring dream is a nightmare! I want my monsters back!"

And so she seeks them out, seeking a compromise for all parties. So it wasn't a trite tale of a girl battling her nightmares after all! You were worried, I could tell. All ends well, for young girls and monsters alike. And really, isn't that what Halloween is all about?

This has been a sponsored post.


A Blue Fairy-Tale (2015)

Written by Verginia Genova

Illustrated by Veselka Velinova


The Fairy of Colors

This is a simple, sweet story about a giant blue whale - so giant and so enormous, in fact, that he succeeds in frightening off everyone and everything around him. Fish flee in terror at his approach, and soon it is clear that he is destined to never have friends.

Every day was the same, as monotonous and blue as the sea. He was as sad and lonely as an enormous deserted ship.

No one loved him, and he loved no one.

Despite our protagonist's melancholy, this is a beautifully painted picture book. Painted! So refreshing to see in an age where everything is rendered purely digitally. The underwater sequences are vibrant and colorful, but it is the storm sequences which really wowed me. I love all the debris strewn through the air, the violence of the harsh winds come across with great urgency.

It is a family of titmice who are in the midst of the storm, and it is they that must flea across the sea, finally finding their refuge - you guessed it - on the back of our friend, the blue whale.

A Blue Fairy-Tale is part of a series of ten picture books by the same author/illustrator team, both Bulgarian, under the general heading, The Fairy of Colors, and each centered on a different color. You can find out more about them here. I'm curious to see how this one will relate to the others!

When the sky is dark and stormy
When the sea is sour with tears,
When your heart can cry no more,
You should dive into your dreams.

Please visit their kickstarter campaign, now in full swing!


Elsie Zahara Can Do it Herself (2015)

Written by Eileen Kiernan-Johnson

Illustrated by Katrina Revenaugh

Cut Paper

Huntly Rahara Press

I can't believe it's been over two years since I reviewed Eileen and Katrina's first book, Roland Humphrey is Wearing a WHAT?, and I was very pleased to see that the two of them had now released a second book.

I was at first a bit surprised by the differences between the two, however... Roland Humphrey - about a boy wanting to dress as a girl - was a very hot-button issue, whereas Elsie Zahara is about a girl who is growing up and yearning for independence, as all kids do, seems much more conventional.... Well, maybe not so thematically different after all, upon reflection, they're very much connected: bravely being oneself in a world in which we are told to conform.

"Family, gather round," she managed in a wobbly voice.
Her serious expression conveyed this wasn't a choice.

"I know I'm just little and there is still lots I can't do
but how am I ever going to learn if you won't let me try something new?"

As with Roland Humphrey, the story is told through rhyming verse, not something I'm always a huge fan of, but Eileen really infuses the writing with great dialogue and rhymes which aren't at all too obvious, like this couplet from later in the story:

Breakfast became a more pleasurable affair,
and with wider berth to practice pouring, spillage became rare.

Now that I've become friends with Eileen and have seen pictures of her and her family, I'm able to appreciate how well Katrina is able to capture their likeness through her artwork. Using different textures for the walls and the floors, and filling the pages with crumpled clothes and cluttered tables, all of the pages looked very lived-in, and lent the story a greater reality and urgency.

Elsie is able to successfully convince her family that she is old enough to begin doing things herself and to take on responsibility in small measures. She is on her way toward being a mature grown up... while still wearing tu-tus and snorkeling masks.

Dressing herself became more fun too
when she had freedom to pair orange plaid with florals in blue

Mommy had come to realize that it was more important to give Elsie a chance
"Does it really matter," she laughed, "if you wear matching pants?"

Really great to see both Eileen and Katrina continuing their partnership with something that is more nuanced and well-plotted, their growth is apparent!


The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains (2014)

Written by Neil Gaiman

Illustrated by Eddie Campbell

William Morrow and Company

Hard to believe I've gone this long without reviewing a picture book by Neil Gaiman.

I remember way back when The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish was first published, it was a huge deal. Neil Gaiman wrote a children's picture book! And it's illustrated by Dave McKean! I remember not finding the story to be especially compelling, but the artwork more than made up for it. It was beautiful, so artfully assembled. And it was Neil Gaiman!

Unfortunately, I do remember noticing that I could never find it in the actual children's picture book section of any bookstore. Not initially. It was always in with the general Science Fiction and Fantasy section, which I found annoying. Kind of in the same way that Harlan Ellison's collection Troublemakers - which was ostensibly for young adults - never graced the young adult section of any bookstore or library that I ever happened upon. Science Fiction and Fantasy. Kind of a catch-all, I suppose. Strange how it's a genre which collects a wide spectrum, yet for some reason Stephen King, Kurt Vonnegut and the macabre supernatural works of Joyce Carol Oates among many others were always firmly planted in the Fiction/Literature section. So it goes.

I can see now why it made sense. The demographic who would be most interested in buying a Neil Gaiman book would not necessarily be the same one that would be browsing through the picture book section. Put it where it will sell! And sell it did.

Now I am happy to see that The Day I Swapped my Dad for Two Goldfish does appear in with the children's picture book department of the bookstores I peruse. And Neil has got quite a few picture books under his belt and even won the Newbery award. Doesn't get much more respectable than that. For me, though, he'll always be the writer of the "Cereal Killers" issue of The Sandman (Sandman #14) and of the most horrific 24 hours you would ever want to spend locked in a diner with a group of strangers (Sandman #6). I loved The Sandman, read it as it was still being initially serialized, and it was one of the seminal works which really opened me up - way up - to the possibilities of making sense of the world from a non-Judeo-Christian mythological worldview.

For me, Neil Gaiman is the kind of author who needs to be illustrated. I don't exactly mean that as a compliment.

I was generally non-plussed by his novels American Gods and Neverwhere, didn't really care for The Graveyard Book. I'm sorry to say it. I think it's great that they're all so widely well-received and have turned on so many to him and his writing. For me, his strengths lie in his stories, his characters, and his dialogue. So I find him perfectly suited to comic book and picture book writing. His weaknesses - as I see it - is his prose. I never got any real atmosphere out of The Graveyard Book. I didn't feel like I was in a graveyard, cavorting with ghosts and gravestones. Same with American Gods. There were pacing issues which I felt threw the story off, and I never really got the sense of two people - gods or otherwise - traveling across the highways of America. It was a lot of wonderful dialogue and colorful characters, but little atmosphere.

I love atmosphere. It's one of my favorite aspects of any story. And when a writer is able to perfectly convey an atmosphere and a tone using nothing expects words on a page, it's a magical thing.

All that is to say, I miss Neil Gaiman the comic book writer. (If anyone is wondering, Sandman Overture has been wonderful, but it's being released at a glacial pace.)

I think it's the artists who are able to convey the atmosphere. It's the artists who are able to find the proper pacing. A good artist can take Neil's stories and characters and dialogue and take them to the next level. They can make them something horrific, something fantastical, something filled with terror and beauty and absurdity. I think mostly of Michael Zulli's pencils in The Wake which just elevated that final storyline into something of profound and intense emotion and beauty and P. Craig Russel's evocation of Baghdad in the Ramadan issue. When you take away their images, you're not just removing the pictures, you're taking away the pace and the atmosphere.

When I found The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains, I was excited. "A Tale of Travel and Darkness with Pictures of All Kinds," reads the subtitle. It is a beautiful volume, with a painted cover by Eddie Campbell who I know best as the illustrator of Alan Moore's magnum opus From Hell. I couldn't wait to read it.

It was initially published as a prose piece in an anthology called Stories. I wonder what I would have made of it if I had read it there, if that had been my first encounter with it. It's hard to imagine the story now, without Eddie Campbell's illustrations. They seem like such an integral part of it.

It delivered on all counts. I felt like I was finding Neil Gaiman again for the first time. I hate to even talk about the story at all, as reading through it and watching it unfold was just so pleasurable. It's wonderful. And it's not a children's book. It is one of a growing number of picture books for adults, full of murder and madness and other lovely sundries. I hope there are more books like this to come. I pray to the gods.


Heave Ho! (2015)

Written and Illustrated by José Lucio

Heave Ho! is the first picture book by Savannah,GA-based graphic artist, José Lucio. I found it to be a deceptively simple tale. Bright and colorful, flipping through it feels like flipping through frames of an animated film.

The story is about the proverbial early bird in its quest to get the worm, but the worm doesn't go without a fight. Soon others join the fray on both sides, a dog, a cat... more worms... pulling and tugging, tugging and pulling. Heave Ho!

Teamwork becomes a theme... but in the end, it's not teamwork that wins the day, but rather the cleverness of one individual worm thinking outside the box. That was the deceptiveness of the simplicity of it... in just a few pages, the tone and the theme shift, surprising the reader, and surprising the animals involved.

The question mark below is one of the things I only noticed in my re-read, as are the individual expressions on the worms' faces and the texture of their bodies, the eye carries along the dark worm hole, finding narrative clues for what's coming next.

The backgrounds are basically static, with characters moving in and out of frame. Jose has a clear vision of the design of the book. His use of space and movement comes across with every image, building from the last until it finally reaches a crescendo.

I'll be posting an interview with Jose in the coming days to learn more about his creative process. In the meanwhile, you can visit his website and read the book in its entirety!

This has been a sponsored post.


The Strange Library (2014)

Written by Haruki Murakami

Designed by Suzanne Dean

Harvill Secker

Well, this is a first for the blog, but in keeping with my overall aesthetic.

I had decided a while ago that I wanted to expand the site from purely children's picture books, and more towards plain old picture books. Obviously, children's picture books represent the lion's share, but I am seeing more and more examples of the medium being used in the larger literary arena, and I would like to chronicle that as best I can. To me, I think it is akin to comic books being thought of mostly as funny picture stories for kids, to more serious and sophisticated adult fare. Picture books are constantly pushing the boundaries, it is an exciting medium to follow.

I found this little tome in my local library last week and I knew I had to check it out, even though I was still finishing And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini and had already begun Weaveworld by Clive Barker. I have a bad habit of checking out more books than I'll ever get to - a conundrum shared by patrons of all-you-can-eat buffets.

You can't tell from the cover image I've reproduced here, but that's an actual card catalog envelope affixed to the cover. You could put a card in it, if you so desired. The version I got was small and hardcover, and clocked in at 77 pages. It feels great, a real tactile pleasure to hold and to flip through. Flipping through it reveals strange designs and illustrations - leafs from a bug identification book, large crows, astronomical symbols, tea cups, pages of pure blackness, with the words, "But it's pitch black."

"Most of the illustrations in this book including marbled papers and old pages come from old books found in The London Library, and we gratefully thank them for the rich treasury they provide," reads the note at the end. This version was designed by Suzanne Dean, though I've since come to understand that there is another version floating around out there designed by Chip Kidd. This blog post goes into greater detail about the different versions.

I'd never read Murakami before, though I've often been told I should - especially The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles and Kafka on the Shore - so there was the added bonus of being able to say, "Why, yes, of course I've read Murakami!" the next time I'm at a soirée with literary snobs and his name comes up. I was able to read it in one sitting over coffee the next morning. The design in so extensive, there really isn't much room left over for text.

Here's the story: A young man stops at his local library looking for some books. He is sent to the basement - which is odd, he thinks, because he never knew there was a basement before. He discovers a vast underground labyrinth of books, kept by an old man who at first seems quite helpful, quite insistently helpful, and then quite sinister.

"Don't trifle with me! We possess a number of volumes that deal with tax collection in the Ottoman Empire. Did you come here with the intention of having sport with this library? Was that your aim?"

Before long, the narrator is taken to the Reading Room, which is a dungeon, where he must memorize the books he wished to check out in their entirety and be able to recite them word-for-word. If not, then the librarian will eat his brains. Furthermore - the narrative informs us - this isn't something horrible that's happening in this library. No. This is happening in all libraries everywhere. All librarians wish to eat our brains and lock us up and make us memorize books. It's why libraries exist. Librarians are like vampires, dolling out knowledge which makes us smarter, and then feeding on our brains in exchange.

Several of the reviews I've read of this book are people complaining about why they should have to pay $10 for a book they could read in about twenty minutes. If you think that's bad, wait til they have kids and realize they have to pay upwards of $20 for picture books they can read in about twenty seconds. In some ways, here in this digital age of downloading books for only one or two dollars, I think that this is the future of books. You have to have this actual book - this physical object that is book - in order to get the full experience. Holding it and flipping its pages is what it is. You're not paying $10 for a story, you're paying $10 for a book.


The Gobblings (2015)

Written by Matthue Roth

Illustrated by Rohan Daniel Eason

Considering this is the same creative team as last year's My First Kafka, they couldn't be more different. Well, I don't want to get too carried away with hyperbole. Of course there are myriad ways in which they could have been more different. Nonetheless, they might have followed with My First Proust or My First Sartre, instead they've flung us into a retro-future in which clean-cut spaceship crew members  wear Fantastic-Four style jumpsuits and contemplate large panels of blinking lights.

We're not told the year, or what galaxy we're in. Matthue's story doesn't initially seem much concerned with the science-fiction-ness of it all. It fact, he treats it with the same banality as he would being stuck inside on a rainy day.


Kai and the Magic Jacket (2012)

Written and Illustrated by Tricia Chinn Campbell

Blissfull Thinking Publishing

The illustrations are so clean and crisp, they look like cells from an animated film. There stands Kai, standing proud, sparks of lightning flaring from his magic jacket.

"You must take care of this jacket, Kai. It's a gift that has been passed down through many generations. Your mother wore it, and spoke to her Great Grandparents. It's given to every firstborn child as a way to hear the wisdom of your ancestors. When you wear the jacket, it's our sign to visit you and help you make wise choices."

This read to me as an origin story, the young hero, unsuspecting, as the floating spirits of his ancestors appear about him, imparting wisdom.


A New Friend for Sally (2014)

Written by David Tang

Illustrated by Lora Lee

Tiny Robot Books

This is the story of a young girl, Sally, growing up on a farm with only her dear old dad to keep her company. Day after day, she asks for a pet... anything to dull the ennui of the farmer's daughter! And then, one day... pulling up in his bright, blue pick-up, out comes her father with nothing less than a chicken!

A chicken is decidedly not her notion of a pet. In fact, we discover that she's been afraid of chickens her entire life, since she was a little girl! Way to go, dad!

Why does she fear the chicken so much? Is it the strange dietary customs?


The Book of Complements (2013)

Written and Illustrated by David Rowinski

Inknbeans Press

David Rowinski is 51 years old and splits his time between Kenya, Tanzania and Massachusetts.

"I was not planning on doing another picture book," he told me. "But was in a friend's bookstore, looking at books of opposites-a confining way of thinking, so I thought: I am going to write a book of complements."


My First Kafka (2013)

Retold by Matthue Roth

Illustrated by Rohan Daniel Eason

One Peace Books

This slender volume contains retellings of three Kafka pieces. "The Metamorphosis," of course, along with "Excursion in the Mountains" and "Josefine the Singer or, The Mouse People." The latter two I am ashamed to admit I was completely unfamiliar with, so this book was my first experience with them.

This is a beautiful book which stands alone as a piece of art. That's my appraisal. The artwork is just extraordinary. Edward Gorey is, I think, the first reference-point many will make, but the line-work is much more detailed than anything Gorey ever did. Look at the full rolls of thick beards of the "three strange men with long beards" who have moved in with the Samsas, the way their beards roll and tumble like tiny strands of insane pasta, each individually realized.

"Come in here, where it's warm and happy!"

There's a whole world of illustration to get lost in. The Nobodies from "Excursion..." might frustrate, as there are so many of them, each illustrated nearly identical to the other, standing so close that one is nearly indistinguishable from the other. It's hard to get a grasp on what the eye is seeing, movable wallpaper with claws and reptilian-eyes, bulbous schnozes. It fits the tone of the prose perfectly.

How these nobodies jostle each other, their arms linked together, these numberless feet treading so close!

I was a bit taken aback by the title, "My First Kafka," I have to admit, as it seems designed to merely elicit a chortle. "What? Franz Kafka stories for children! How zany!" one might imagine one exclaiming. But I didn't find it zany at all. I think there's a lot here that children and adolescents can definitely relate to. These adaptations don't just merely simplify the prose to be more readily relatable, they distill the essence of the tales so that their emotions are more readily relatable.

"Gregor!" his mother called. "Are you sick?"

But don't take my word for it. This book has a real money-quote on the back, from a PhD, Dr. Mayim Bialik. "Matthue Roth continues to astound with his brilliance and novelty," she writes. "Everything he touches turns to mystical and delightful artistic gold. Fearless, funny, and fantastically fantastical."

Mayim Bialik... that name sounded familiar...

Trying to figure out the connection between TV's Blossom and Matthue Roth led me to this entry on his blog, in which he has a really interesting conversation with her about her work in neuroscience and her relationship with Orthodox Judaism.


Kafka seems so well-suited to the world of children's literature, I can't believe I never thought about it before. I remember when I was a kid, I felt so cool reading The Trial, and watching the amazing Orson Wells adaptation with Anthony Perkins (I was a strange kid), feeling that I was really entering the world of grown-ups, grown-up novels, grown-up films, but I missed out on a lot by having that attitude, I think. I was always trying to read up. I didn't want to read anything which was intentionally relatable to my own life at that time, because why would I? The Metamorphosis can certainly be seen as teenage/pre-teenage angst, filled with surreal and fantastic imagery. This is not just a clever retelling of stories, it is done sincerely and with great earnestness.


Life on Earth: The Story of Evolution (2002)

Written and Illustrated by Steve Jenkins

Houghton Mifflin

I watched with great interest the recent debate between Bill Nye the Science Guy and Ken Hamm of Answers in Genesis, and it got me interested in learning more about evolution. I read a lot of contentious reviews of the debate, lots of passionate diatribes, so I thought it would be refreshing to visit the issue with the simplicity of a picture book.

I love Steve Jenkins' cut paper illustrations in all of his books, and this one is no exception. interestingI would instead read a picture book. He fashions more than one hundred different animals, including a spread of beetles, and offfers a cohesive narrative for their development on earth. It's a beautiful book, and nice to see - even on an Amazon review page - people can have civil discourse about a picture book made for children.


My Yellow Umbrella (2013)

Written and Illustrated by Chris Robertson

Xist Publishing

The story concerns a young girl and her yellow umbrella careening through San Francisco without a care in the world. It's an amalgam of images of the rosy-cheeked mistress, minimalistic illustrations which reminded me of those "I Can Read" books from my youth, but much more artful and self-aware. But the real star is the palette. I could tell Chris had a good time envisioning color contrasts, mostly yellow-on-blue. Really fun, and I could almost imagine a whole Singing In the Rain dance number on the verge of breaking out as she swings around the Fisherman's Wharf post.

The text also has a bit of Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds about it. For example:

"It is the color of a crayon so bright, it fills my mind with daffodils and canaries."

Yeah man, canaries. Totally.

At the end, Chris acknowledges inspiration from the french filmmaker Albert Lamorrise, who did the great film The Red Balloon, and the artist Christo, who once festooned the landscape with blue and yellow umbrellas of his own.

Hm. Blue and yellow. I think I'm on to something here.

He also mentions the artist Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and her Beckoning of Lovely project, neither of which I was familiar with, but now I'm glad I am. Here's a video:

And how will the crowds know her? Of course, she will be the one with the yellow umbrella.

We live in an amazing time, artistically. I think there is so much exciting stuff going on. Don't let anyone lie to you and tell you technology has hampered us. Pfft.

Picture books are exciting mediums for art, and they're still expanding and finding out new things to do. I really appreciate Chris acknowledging his sources of inspiration and turning me on to Christo and Amy Rosenthal. It all connected.

Anyways, back to the book, here's another picture:

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