To live as an artist may be the most selfish thing a person can do; but I have never understood how to do anything else. Perhaps, after all the words and colors have dried, they can bring some beauty to others.
I have spent much of my time illustrating and writing books for children. There’s enchantment in the slow waltz of words and pictures across the page. In truth, I write for myself, to create a world that I want or that I remember. My best work comes when I allow the process to remain just beyond my control, for as long as I can bear it. Setting the ego aside for a spell allows me to drink from a well that my ancestors dug a long time ago.
I’ve spent my entire life here in these hills; I’ve worked and played, raised my children and fallen in love here in the Hudson Valley. The beauty around us is unavoidable. The mountains are haunted with lovely old ghosts. I wonder if there could be a place, better charmed than what we have here?