Transition Drawings

The other day I took all of my completed drawings out of the accordion folder in which they live, and lined them up on the floor.

My God.   Staring at them all staring back at me.   Whammy– I’m hardly breathing.  I’m so happy, and absolutely in anguish because they are like tiny children to me, their perfections filling me with pride, and their imperfections driving nails into my brain.

I am not finished.  But I feel like something substantial is happening in bits and pieces.   But all of my characters and events are floating around, and the tide is coming in, and I’m having to hop haphazardly from one to the next.

It has occurred to me that I am needing some transitional drawings.  Drawings that tie the story together.  Little knots in the string.  Little stepping stones.

It’s gritty and slow getting these done.  It’s like I’m eating dinner as a kid, and I can’t get down and I can’t have dessert because I’ve eaten all of the fruit and spaghetti, but there is this huge pile of peas staring at me, and I just have to eat them.

The weird thing is, I feel like transition drawings should be some of the most exciting drawings.  It’s the action.  It’s the movement.  It’s what makes the story go go go!  So I’m trying to focus my mind on the movement.  The pictures coming to life with the roaming words.

Feeling a bit like my snail himself.  I’m trying so hard to get to where I want to go, but it’s taking so long and there are all of these voices in my head just telling me to keep going.

Dig.  Dig farther.  Dig an entire tunnel.  Dig until you get to the next page.   There’s a big blue butterfly waiting.  There’s a cherry blossom tree, and a summer picnic.  But you’ve got to dig the tunnel first.  You’ll get there eventually.   Just dig.