Aurinka

This blog is usually about children’s books.

Today instead of talking about children’s books I’m sharing other work: this post previews a show I will be having in August.

This other work feeds my writing and illustrating of books, in direct and indirect ways.

A few years ago I started painting a character I named Aurinka – a sun headed person. Aurinko is the Finnish word for sun. I have continued to paint her.

Aurinka’s Tale, 2023, Gouache on Paper 24″ x 48″

Aurinka’s most recent adventure has been in the world of Tarot.

I love old playing cards of all kinds. Tarot cards in particular draw on a rich history of symbols and imagery.

A year ago I painted this Fool – Aurinka setting forth.

Over the year I painted the rest of the major arcana: the Aurinka Arcana, Parrot Tarot.

Here is the whole deck.

I’ll be showing these paintings at the i.e. gallery in Edison WA from August 4-27. They are all 10″x 15″, painted with a dip pen and ink, and gouache on Arches Watercolor paper.

I also printed a limited edition of the paintings as cards so that they can be used for fortune telling. The cards are 6″ x 4″, wrapped in a cotton scarf. I’ll be selling 20 sets of the deck at the show.

Asking the cards a question and looking at the images that come up can be the beginning of an interesting conversation with yourself or others. There are many ways to look at or read the images – none of them are wrong. These are fine for amateur soothsayers and fortune-tellling flaneurs.

I’ve also always loved packaging. I like the decorative aspects and the wild claims.

So I painted a series of labels for imaginary tonics and elixirs.

Elixir of Time

Floribunda Fleeting Beauty Drops

Fortified Decision Juice

Ambiguity Tonic: One Sip Clarifies Nothing

Bulldog Brand: Distillation of Fortitude

Mrs. Macbeth’s Erasing Balm (removes damn spots)

Empathy Switchel ( Switchel is a punch, often flavored with ginger)

Crow’s Seeking Syrup

Please come up to the opening at i.e. gallery on August 5 from 3-5, or to my talk on August 19th from 2-3. There will be additional paintings at the show, and some surprises. If you can’t make it, please visit on line. Have a sip of mystery!

Thank you.

Elixir of Friendship. Drink Daily

For “Space Fans and Poetry Lovers”

Jupiter – Twice as massive as all other planets put together.

How exciting is this?!! A poem inscribed on the spaceship Europa Clipper, is being sent by NASA this October 2024 to Europa, the second moon of Jupiter. Ada Limon, currently the Poet Laureate of the United States, is the author of the poem, titled “In Praise of Mystery: A Poem to Europa.” Admittedly, it’s not the kind of poem I would normally file among my favorites, because it names large abstractions – beauty, grief, pleasure. love – and abstractions seldom evoke the senses, a requirement which defines poetry. But reading the poem over several times in the last few weeks, I’ve warmed to it. I’ve come to the conclusion that if a poem ever deserves to be big – I mean Big – it is one that’s going to represent human beings across 500 miles of space, and one that is going to look out on the largest planet in our solar system in order to make a connection. That connection is made most effectively, I think, by the way Limon shares a small moment or two of life here on Earth – moments like a songbird “singing / its call in the bough of a wind-shaken tree.” Here is the poem:

In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa

Arching under the night sky inky
with black expansiveness, we point
to the planets we know, we

pin quick wishes on stars. From earth,
we read the sky as if it is an unerring book
of the universe, expert and evident.

Still, there are mysteries below our sky:
the whale song, the songbird singing
its call in the bough of a wind-shaken tree.

We are creatures of constant awe,
curious at beauty, at leaf and blossom,
at grief and pleasure, sun and shadow.

And it is not darkness that unites us,
not the cold distance of space, but
the offering of water, each drop of rain,

each rivulet, each pulse, each vein.
O second moon, we, too, are made
of water, of vast and beckoning seas.

We, too, are made of wonders, of great
and ordinary loves, of small invisible worlds,
of a need to call out through the dark.

Europa, Jupiter’s 2nd Moon

If you’re a teacher or a writer hoping to encourage a love of poetry, you can hear Limon read it aloud at this link. And take time to notice on the same web page a link to a project called “Join the Message in a Bottle Campaign.” Consider having students sign their name to the poem before it’s sent “to call out through the dark.” I imagine that would thrill many students, to know their name would be carried into space. If you’re working with older children, a bit of time spent trying to understand the poem – its belief in wonder, its belief in mystery – would set those children up for what I think is the most intriguing and wonderful thing about poetry: the fact that it doesn’t necessarily answer questions, it indirectly asks them. Even a science unit, linking poetry to science, would help students understand how closely aligned science and poetry are – both of them ask questions and try to understand our world. The mission to Europa aims to answer questions about its inhabitability, and about the ocean that scientists strongly believe lies below it’s icy crust. This wonderful link allows you to see scientists working on the spacecraft and to hear their explanation for why they want to know more about Europa. It’s all about “the offering of water.”

Another link to introduce yourself to Ada Limon’s work in general can be found at this site, sponsored by the Library of Congress. Ron Charles, book critic for the Washington Post, interviews her, and she reads several of her poems. I often think her work sounds like lovely prose rather than poetry, but the words are open and honest and from the heart, and they’re sprinkled with evocative small moments, just like the poem she created for the spacecraft.

Hope you enjoy my little Rave for poetry this week. And for mysteries, moons, planets, scientists, the dark, etc. One last thought: Just look how tiny we are.

Julie Larios

Relative Size and Distance from the Sun

Creating a Character? Keep it Simple.*

Picture books writers, generally, aren’t doing elaborate character sketches and questionnaires about what secret object their character keeps in the sock drawer, his favorite breakfast food or what her grandfather did for a living. There isn’t going to be time to develop or to even hint at much nuance.

But like most characters, your main character needs to start in one place and end in a different place emotionally. And that not only comes from a change in situation but a change in their character.

So how do you set up a character quickly? I tell my students to think in terms of a core trait. One clear thing you can say about this character after just a few lines.

How would you describe these picture book characters?

“No one ever came to Bear’s house. It had always been that way, and Bear was quite sure he didn’t like visitors. He even had a sign: No Visitors Allowed”   (A Visitor for Bear, Bonny Becker)

Even if I didn’t know this character (but of course I do since I wrote it!) I’d say grouchy and reclusive. There’s a lot I didn’t know about Bear until Kady MacDonald Denton did her illustrations. For example, I didn’t know that Bear was such a fastidious homebody with his ever-present apron, big fat bottom and delicate paws. Although a lot of character is suggested in the text–Bear is very deliberate about fixing his breakfast, he’s the sort to make tea and he has cozy fires- think the reader has a strong sense of his most important trait from the first few lines.

What about this puppy? What’s his core trait.

“I was the last of Momma’s nine puppies.

The last to eat from Momma, the last to open my eyes.

The last to learn to drink milk from a saucer,

The last one into the dog house at night.”       (The Last Puppy, Frank Asch)

Well, Asch makes it clear across 8 story pages that if this puppy is anything—it’s last! And he has good reason for beating that point home. I won’t give it away, but it sets up one of the best final twists ever in a picture book.

What can you say about Corduroy from the opening lines?

“Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store. Day after day he waited with all the other animals and dolls for somebody to come along and take him home.

The store was always filled with shoppers buying all sorts of things but no one ever seemed to want a small bear in green overalls.”    (Corduroy, Don Freeman)

Easily overlooked, like so many children? I know that we quickly care for this little bear and want him to get picked. Later in the story, Corduroy is made even more pitiful because his overall strap has broken making him even less desirable and neglected, but that’s just icing on the cake. Right from the start Freeman has tapped into a universal quality. Who hasn’t felt left on the shelf at one time or another.

The thing about a truly outstanding trait is that it carries the story direction and resolution within it. You just know that the last puppy isn’t always going to be last and Corduroy isn’t always going to be overlooked.

What do you know about Lilly from these opening lines?

“Lilly loved school! She loved the pointy pencils. She loved the squeaky chalk. And she loved the way her boots went clickety-clickety-click down the long, shiny hallways.”      (Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse, Kevin Henkes)

One word fits Lilly perfectly: exuberant. And, as with all good stories, it’s this very trait that causes her problems. She gets over-exuberant about her purple plastic purse and this causes problems with her teacher. Henke’s book has the longest set-up I’ve ever seen in a picture book. A whopping 500 or so words of what looks to be about a 1,300 to 1,400 word book. It really heightens the emotional trauma of her turning on her beloved teacher. But, really, we get Lilly after just a few words, especially the “clickety-clickety-click” of her boots.

And then there’s Daisy.

“You must stay close, Daisy,” said Mama Duck.

“I’ll try,” said Daisy.

But Daisy didn’t. “Come along Daisy!” called Mama Duck.

But Daisy was watching the fish.”       (Come Along Daisy, Jane Simmons)

Everyone knows a Daisy. She’s an easily distracted child. But notice how much those few words “I’ll try” do for this story. It makes Daisy a likable character. She’s not willfully disobedient, but she’s not able to promise for sure, either. And she won’t lie about it. Take out the “I’ll try.” And you have a different Daisy.

How about this classic opening? In some ways it doesn’t look like much:

“In the great forest a little elephant is born. His name is Babar. His mother loves him very much. She rocks him to sleep with her trunk while singing softly to him.

Babar has grown bigger. He now plays with the other little elephants. He is a very good little elephant. See him digging in the sand with his shell.”   (The Story of Babar, Jean de Brunhoff)

Well, here’s an opening that would probably land this book in the editor’s trash today. Look at that clumsy jump in time. “Babar has grown bigger.” Boom! That’s it? And where the heck is this story going anyway. But it doesn’t matter because in the next two lines Babar’s mother is shot dead and he’s launched into a completely different story. De Brunhoff spends little time getting Babar on his way, but even so we learn several critical things about Babar. He’s happy and he’s good but the key trait is that he is loved. This is why the reader feels for him as he goes away from his home and then comes back.

So, do your characters have a key trait? It’s not that you can’t get some nuance and depth in, but that beginning trait will help enormously as you plunge into the rest of the story. Just for fun, try this. Take a few rather bland lines. For example:

Cat went to the forest. It was dark. Cat walked into the forest.

Now add a trait:

Scaredy Cat went to the forest. It was dark. Scaredy Cat walked into the forest.

Or a different one:

Brave Cat went to the forest. It was dark. Brave Cat walked into the forest.

Hungry Cat went to the forest. It was dark. Hungry Cat walked into the forest.

Just one word  suggests a different character and a different story line. And, if I’m really doing my job, that trait starts to drive all my word choices.

Scaredy Cat went to the forest. It was so dark. Scaredy Cat shivered and slunk into the forest.

Brave Cat went to the forest. It was dark. So what? Brave Cat sauntered into the forest.

Hungry Cat went to the forest. It was dark. Just right for catching juicy mousies. Hungry Cat crept forward.

And you’re off!

* This is a reprint (with a few small changes) of a post originally published February 19, 2016