Tuesday, January 23, 2018

"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!




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