The Laploo Bear by Estil A. Vance III

Now, this is something special :)

I am not sure I will be able to convey how exciting this commission was! I was handed a treasure trove of unpublished poetry that is up there with Shel Silverstein and Lewis Carroll's work. A collection of 26 poems called, "Extinctuary, a Compendium of Doomed Species."  These very odd poems told the rather macabre story of 26 animals that drove themselves to extinction through any number of bad habits. Not only were these poems fuel for a strange imagination, they were funny! I especially enjoyed the occasional absurd word balanced by historical reference, giving the stories an almost true feel.

I have permission to share "The Laploo Bear" and then I will share the illustration process.

The Laploo Bear

The Laploo Bear was furry brown
and soft to see and feel
As gentle as the youngest lamb,
with jaws like sharpened steel.

It dined on leafy foliage,
an herbivore by choice.
It's shyness made it hard to find
as did it's dulcet voice.

The Laploo slumbered most the year
as bears are prone to do
and loathed the waking hour
which would begin each year anew.

In early fall their sleep would start
when leaves were on the ground
as weather would begin to change
and food was seldom found.

Why waken for the wintertime
with bitter winter frost?
To wander barren forest land
perhaps at mortal cost.

Soon spring would come with floral birth
but why awaken then?
When rains come unexpectedly
and nuptial chores begin.

And summer's quite intemperate
with soporific heat:
which brought them back to fall again
so their rest might repeat.

With their desire to hibernate
and lengthy slumber deep
they never did awake again
and perished in their sleep.

By: Estil A. Vance III


I wish I could suggest you all order the book and read all 26 poems! Maybe someday :) Currently the author and his family are working on commissioning different artists to paint each poem to create an amazing gallery on their wall! I enjoyed being part of such a fun project!

The first thing I did was get to know the Laploo bear. "Furry brown, soft to see and feel, sharp jaws, though a herbivore." I thought he should also have a long neck and a full collar and stripe to set him apart from today's bears, and big clumsy feet that might make him dislike things like "wandering barren forests" or "nuptial chores." I wanted him to have a cuddly, slow look to him.

After I understood what sort of animal I was working with, I created the scene, nestling a sleuth of bears into fall leaves. These poor bears though..... they never woke up, and became skeletons caked in the ground, sleeping into eternity.

I wanted some sort of "floral birth" to contrast the extinction of the species. In the sketch I used strawberries, but in the final piece they became orchids.

This is the final drawing on hot press watercolor paper. After drawing the forest and leaves, I wanted to give it more of a prehistoric feel and added some ancient looking palms, orchids and succulent type plants. I also gave the tree to the far left an interesting growth habit.

Ok, now things get tricky. I always love the drawing part, but I really struggle with color theory and often feel restricted by my strong lines. At this point I thought I was done with the fossils, dirt and rocks. But as time went on I found that I had to keep adding color to create contrast.

I had a lot of browns going on. The bears were getting lost is the leaves, the underground needed a sturdier look to balance the top of the illustration, and I REALLY wanted the sky to be yellow and pink against blue trees, for a warm, crisp autumn feel. I'm not sure if that was the right decision, but I tried to make it work. I spent a good amount of time pacing, wishing I had gone to art school to learn color composition, and spent time seeking guidance from my 2 illustrator friends. Finally, I ended up with this:

I love the way these bears are cozied into the leaves, and the one guy looking up into the sky... he's about to go back to sleep.
I can't help but imagine the "Crangli Bird" or "Hufari" and "Abso." So many amazing creatures, that we no longer see, and that only a small hand full of us have ever imagined :)

Close ups on Neil Gaiman's "Instructions"

 Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
saw before.
Say "please" before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path.
A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted
front door,
as a knocker,
do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat
nothing.
However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,
feed it.
If it tells you that it is dirty,
clean it.
If it cries to you that it hurts,
if you can,
ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the
wild wood.
The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's
realm;
there is another land at the bottom of it.
If you turn around here,
you can walk back, safely;
you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

There was a moment when I realized the giant looks like he is sucking his thumb. At first I was horrified, then I came to like it. How else could you sleep so deeply?

Here we have hydrangea, iris, tulips, hosta, allium, delphinium, hollyhocks, russian sage, echinasea, yarrow and peonies all blooming in magical harmony :) An artist gets to be a gardener, architect, fashion designer all in one! Gardening comes naturally, I didn't need references for these flowers becasue they all grow in our garden, but boy do I struggle designing dresses!
I enjoyed designing my own dragon! Partially inspired by our current favorite book The Storybook Knight. She has a soft spot for kitty cats. 

Once through the garden you will be in the
wood.
The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-
growth.
Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She
may ask for something;
give it to her. She
will point the way to the castle.

 These ghosts were by far the most challenging part. My first instinct was to make them white, but then they just blarred from the center of the painting and you couldn't look away. It was bad, and scary! I was incredibly nervous to try anything else because I was afraid I would make it worse. But after a little work researching how others painted ghosts, and a couple peer reviews from artist friends, I learned that I neened to paint green into the ghosts so that we would be seeing through them. The result was wonderful! From across the room you really don't see them, but up close, they don't take up all your attention and let your eyes wonder.

Here is a photo of the ghosts when they were in process. Once you see the solution, it makes sense and seems easy, but at this point I was super anxious! Its hard to see the difference on the screen, but in real life it was a big difference.

 I really wanted to have the 12 months, sitting by the fire in the middle of the illustration. The months being represented by larger than life animal type creatures, and the 4 seasons spreading out to the 4 corners of the illustration in there respective positions. But I was never able to fully work it out. Hmmm.... Instead I banished them to the farthest point of the illustration. But I see them all back there. They are really awesome creatures and she is small but brave talking to them.

During the entire illustration process I never let myself look at any other illustrations of this poem. Once I did, I was surprised to see that the original illustrator portrayed the 12 months in a way similar to what I was trying. So in hinds sight, I am glad I didn't focus on them because my illustration might not have felt as original to me.

In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve
months sit about a fire,
warming their feet, exchanging tales.
They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
You may pick strawberries in December's frost.
Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where
you are going.
The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-
man will take you.
(The answer to his question is this:
If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to
leave the boat.
Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

Water is something I would like to get better at. I really like the way it glows in the top part of the lake, but the larger part with the silver fish was hard and took a lot of careful thought and holding back. 

 

Here she is :) A noble girl who has traversed a great journey! I only wish that I been more prepared for her skin tone. After a couple frustrating and grainy layers I reached out to my freind who is incredible with the figure and skin and she said that brown pigments are ALWAYS grainy, and that she mixes her brown skin tones. I tried to lift off as much as I could. Then I really struggled to mix brown, which should be easy, right?!?!?!? wrong. I don't even have a good method to write down and remember. I just need to start at ground zero. brown skin tones 101.

The winter realm is a reflection of the world above. The worm at the center of the tower has caused it to crumble. Diamonds and flowers have fallen on the grass and the frog is sitting in a crown. He has a story of his own to tell. The maiden is holding the raven she mended and the eagles feather is safe around her waist.

I tried to pack every single line into this illustration. I see it in so many different forms. It could have been painted so many different ways! This commission was incredibly challenging and enjoyable.

Do not be jealous of your sister.
Know that diamonds and roses
are as uncomfortable when they tumble from
one's lips as toads and frogs:
colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.
Remember your name.
Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
When you come back, return the way you came.
Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.
Do not forget your manners.
Do not look back.
Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).
Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).
Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is
why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your
journey started,
you will recognize it, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden gate
you never saw before but once.
And then go home. Or make a home.
And rest.
  
Words by Neil Gaiman

"Instructions" continuted

This year (2017) I graduated from sizing paper in the sink to the tub!

Here the illustration begins to come to life! My commissioner was so good at giving me free reign in the conception and completion of this piece. The only part that she really looked forward to seeing was the "red imp hanging on the green door." Having never drawn an imp, elf, sprite, or fairy, this was intimidating! I was quite pleased with how he turned out.

Here is more progress, and another picture for perspective, both on size and challenge! HA!

At this point in time Navine was really into "happy trees." No, not from Bob Ross, those are "happy little trees." She loves pictures of Tree Beard from The Lord of the Rings and the "tree ents" around my parent's property in Oregon. She loves looking at my drawings and is even good at identifying my work in other people's homes! While she was pouring over this drawing, she said, "Is there a happy tree?" There wasn't one! So I had to draw one in just for her!

You can see the Tree Ent in this section. This is my favorite section color-wise. I like the shadows and light. I also love the little owl that appeared under my hand when I was drawing the twisted oak.

Another close up of the "Ferryman."

Here is the finished piece! I am going to do another post with close ups and a couple notes!
Can you find:

4 cats
1 owl
6 little birds
1 snail
1 fawn
3 imps
1 tree ent
1 fairy
1 crown

"Instructions" painted 2017

In the spring of 2017 I received and incredibly exciting commission from an individual through Minted.com. The commission was to illustrate Neil Gaiman's poem, "Instructions." Its long, magical and packed with imagery:

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
saw before.
Say "please" before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path.
A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted
front door,
as a knocker,
do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat
nothing.
However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,
feed it.
If it tells you that it is dirty,
clean it.
If it cries to you that it hurts,
if you can,
ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the
wild wood.
The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's
realm;
there is another land at the bottom of it.
If you turn around here,
you can walk back, safely;
you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the
wood.
The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-
growth.
Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She
may ask for something;
give it to her. She
will point the way to the castle.
Inside it are three princesses.
Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.
In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve
months sit about a fire,
warming their feet, exchanging tales.
They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
You may pick strawberries in December's frost.
Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where
you are going.
The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-
man will take you.
(The answer to his question is this:
If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to
leave the boat.
Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that
witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of your sister.
Know that diamonds and roses
are as uncomfortable when they tumble from
one's lips as toads and frogs:
colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.
Remember your name.
Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
When you come back, return the way you came.
Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.
Do not forget your manners.
Do not look back.
Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).
Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).
Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is
why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your
journey started,
you will recognize it, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden gate
you never saw before but once.
And then go home. Or make a home.
And rest.

I accepted the commission, then put it out of my mind for a couple months, so my imagination wouldn't work before I could get it on paper. When the time came to begin, I studied the poem like I do the Bible. It almost seemed like the poem could be folded back on itself, and I found that to be true when I read "return the way you came." Originally I had thought of the journey as a circle, now I saw that it was a going forward and back. 

These phrases mirrored each other:
Ride the grey wolf = trust the wolves, but do not tell them where you are going
Ride the silver fish = rather than returning via ferry 
Ride the wise eagle = if an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
 
I also noticed that winter's realm is not entered, just mentioned, as the explorer heads into the wild wood.   

Where is a dragon's soft spot? 
Is the old woman under the twisted oak a witch?
Where would a giant be sleeping? 
Could winter's realm mirror the real world?
Is the worm at the center of the tower a dragon?
How can these different seasons mentioned, all meld together?
12 months sitting by a fire? Lets make them far away...

After a couple word sketches and a final (very loose) sketch, I got the ok to start on watercolor paper. My commissioner was so flexible and trusting. She let me do a lot of my sketching straight on the final paper so it wouldn't loose its life in the redraw. 

I remember driving my large, blank 29x22 piece of watercolor paper to the library, to begin drawing. It was completely unmarked, but would hold a small masterpiece in a couple months! I was excited! It also made me ponder the great difference between digital illustration and fine art illustration. Seriously, with this medium, no room for mistakes.

My original sketch had a rather boxy cottage. My eyes got stuck there. I completely changed the design to include a high pitched roof that lead the eye up into the garden.

I LOVED drawing the wild wood. I was sitting at a card table in one of our upstairs rooms, over looking our yard with its mighty oaks and "wilderness" area. It was the perfect setting!

With this piece I was experimenting with a different style. I did cross-hatch shading with my pen, hoping to lighten the water coloring load with its many layers.

See how the roof points you right up into the wild wood? I enjoyed drawing the garden and had to heed Casey's advice when I was worrying about flowers blooming together that normally wouldn't "Its a magical land. They can all bloom at the same time." The well also evolved as I was drawing. I really like that its edge meets the grass and that you can see the steps descending into winter's realm. Do you see the giant sleeping? I originally was going to have his back to us, but ended up being very happy that I turned him around.

Right in the middle of the piece I had an empty space. I hadn't included the line "trust ghosts" so I decided to draw a horse and nobleman ghost smack in the middle of the painting. That ended up being a huge challenge near the end, but art is problem solving. There is always a solution!