It’s a Tea Bag!
It was probably inevitable: I had this vision for my novel that characters would interact/argue with illustrations. I say inevitable because I can only draw stick figures. And chubby sharks.
Being a terrible artist is a lifelong thing, kind of like dancing. In fact, when it came to dancing, I decided to gauge my mother’s reaction once over lunch. We sat at opposite ends of the table, jukebox music warbling (It was one of those classic American diners). “Mom,” I said.
“Yes?”
“What would you say if I told you I wanted to become a dancer?”
Instantly: A look of horror took over her face. Being a vindictive person sometimes, I held her gaze. Finally, I decided to stop being vindictive and tell her that I was joking.
“Oh good.” She breathed out.
The thing is, when I was in middle school and had to do a visual project on the Boston Tea Party, I struggled. I was trying to draw tea. Inexplicably, I was trying to draw a Lipton tea bag. Because that is what they were throwing in the harbor. Mom looked over my shoulder at my cheap tea masterpiece. “Is that a Santa Claus hat?”
“It’s a tea bag!” I wailed.
“Go get your sister.”
Kailee and Lanie are exceptional artists. My friend, Daisy, is phenomenal, too. Daisy did the artwork of Erwilian on the homepage of this website. I know, I know: All three of them have worked so hard and so diligently on their work, and I cannot expect a Lipton tea bag to spring forth from my brow. Just as I work as a writer, they work as artists. I feel nothing but awe and love for their talent.
Before Kailee explained it to me, I never knew that tattoo artists practiced on peaches. Kailee has curated a large portfolio of art pieces on all parts of her arms and legs and back. She is a walking piece of art. Lanie, too, has been collecting tattoos. Oh, to be able to commit to a tattoo! I don’t have that level of commitment, so I give tattoos to my characters.
This also goes to the question of how to illustrate your own work. How can I achieve those character arguments with illustrations when I struggle to win at Pictionary? I find this more amusing than sad. Maybe my stick figures are charming. Maybe they are the ones chunking tea into Boston Harbor.
I’ve always dreamt of doing a visual poetry collection. I’ll need art for that. And that is okay — like science, the world of art is a collaboration, a poem strung together by images. When I was a teenager, I took a costuming class for theater. That was my form of the visual arts (I still love costuming), something that was lovely and, looking back, probably had loose stitches. And I crochet.
We all find meaning in the little things, whether they are paintings or quilts. And perhaps someday, I will have a tiny stick figure on the cover of my very own book. Dare to dream, and, yes, I do dare.
