by michelle mcdowell smith - originally written in 05/2020 with an update in 04/2024.
Honestly, I didn’t originally consider my art to be for children.
However, I do recognize that the subject matter I use and the aesthetic that I create, is dreamy, whimsical, and often reminiscent of a scene from a storybook. My intention has always been to elevate the sense of wonder and optimism which we felt as children – and then which we lose as adults. I’ve done it to try and show how the innocence of youth is astonishingly powerful and breathtaking even, and how it shouldn’t be dismissed or devalued.
And I’ve felt that this is different than creating art that is specifically for children.
Yet there were plenty of times, years ago, when someone would approach me and say, “Your work should be in a children’s book!”. And although I always understood why they were saying it, I also disagreed. Because for me there was a level of seriousness, and at times a fair amount of sadness in my work which I always felt could be out of place in a children’s book.
I also didn’t want to put my artwork in a box.
I didn’t want it to be seen solely as children’s book illustrations. Since the beginning of this body of work, I’ve loved how the art could exist so effortlessly in varying spaces in someone’s home, office, or even a public space. I worried that putting them in a children’s book would somehow mess that up. And so, I held off on the idea.
But then time happened. Time just kept moving forward, like it always does. I began to broaden my view of the work. I began to see that each piece could stay true to all of my original intentions, while simultaneously being more simple and carefree. Now, I am no longer afraid of the art being bound to one interpretation. The art is simultaneously for children and for adults. It is happy and innocent - full of hope and promise. It also weeps for the fleeting nature of life. And at the same time, it stands as a rejection to the rise of cynicism in a world where we desperately need more love and compassion. It’s all of this at once.
With all that said, there is also my wonderful husband Toby, who first started writing poems for me when we were dating in high school. I can remember being in college in Savannah and receiving homemade postcards from him with poems on them. Maybe we’ll share some one day. And then beginning in 2015 he began writing poems for every completed piece I create. These poems are not the ones in our children’s books. These came first and were meant for the audience of adults who were interested in my art. The response was wonderful. We’ve had so many people fall in love with those poems. There have been tears and tears. So many messages of gratitude and joy. Experiencing this, literally seeing people look at my artwork, turn to read his poem, and then back to the art, and then tears fall. This moved me. This changed me. And I shouldn’t even write that in the past tense. It still happens. All the time.
I think it was first towards the end of 2016 that Toby suggested we should put together a children’s book of poetry. As you can imagine from what you just read above, I wasn’t enthusiastic. But I knew I should trust him. So, despite my apprehension I asked him to show me what he was thinking. He took one weekend (seriously just one weekend) and wrote an entire initial draft. I was mesmerized. I loved the simplicity. I loved the optimism. I found myself wishing that there had been a book like that when our kids were little. Yes, he convinced me, and I could see it working.
And yet, it took 3 or 4 years from that moment until we eventually published Of Land and Sky. And then another 4 years until With Each Breath. We had no idea how to design a book and get it printed. It took some time, I guess. But now, with two finished books, I couldn’t be happier.
