See Nancy.

See Nancy teach.

Nancy is big.

Nancy is way, way bigger than her students.

Nancy's students are kids.

Kids- not so big.

Nancy then remembers to think small.

So, you'd think I'd be the boss this week, teaching 2nd through 8th graders. Well, you'd be thinking wrong. Nope, I'm being schooled right and left. They chirp, squeal, complain, tattle, text, observe, cry and guffaw. Guffaw - what an awesome word.

I've guffawed many times this week - good for the abs - much more fun than crunches.

So I wander through the classroom, oh so ever thankful that I can demonstrate how to draw monkeys, pandas, flying princess unicorns, and UPS guys. Think about it - are UPS guys fairly represented in children's literature? I think not.

And here's the deal. Each day, I feel smaller. But not in some shrinking way. I feel smaller in that let's see the world not from a middle aged, adult way but from, I don't know - maybe a kid way?

These kids are producing incredible work. It's fresh, inventive and full of that somethin', somethin'. I'm totally jealous - and inspired.

The explorer, Ponce De Leon set out to find the fountain of youth a gazillion something years ago. What a waste of time. He just should have hung out with a bunch of small writing and drawing geniuses. That would have been a lot shorter and much cheaper trip.

Hey, Ponce! Got a tip for you. Want to stay young , and in your on way - small? Chirp, squeal, complain, tattle, text, observe, cry and guffaw. You'll be amazed at what you create.

Today started out pretty good. The terrible little dogs let me sleep past stupid o'clock and it actually wasn't raining this morning. No blue sky, but with the wettest May and June I can remember, I'll take light gray. Anyway, here in Portland we don't really expect sunny days. Our weather here is divided into two categories - raining, and not raining.

It was also the first day of summer tennis where sixteen of us invade the local courts and battle it out. It's way more relaxed than season play and there's nothing like a bunch of middle-aged gals out there goofing off like a bunch of middle schoolers. Good times.

So I'd already set a high bar for the rest of my day. Nothing could get better, right? But my most excellent agent, Edward Necarsulmer galloped into the picture with most marvelous news. Sorry ladies, sorry, not-raining day - Edward comes in for the win. I promised myself way back at the beginning of my career that I would always be as thrilled with selling a book project as I was that very first time. I've kept that promise.

And that means I'm doing my very best happy dance.

And I'll spill as far as the news soon...

The title of this piece is Don't Fence Me In. I've been successfully unemployed since 1984 so this slogan is pretty much my battle cry.

But since 1984, I've been a fraud. I HAVE fenced myself into a career mindset.

I hate feeling trapped. I don't like small spaces and I'm a reluctant hugger.

So why fence myself in? Because it helps me stay successfully unemployed, or more accurately, self employed. And how have I done that?

1. I've studied the market.
Even if I haven't exactly liked where the market's heading, I still try to understand WHY it's heading that way.

2. I've looked beyond my own expertise. I've researched what other artists are working on. I read books outside the genres I'm working on.

3. I've adapted. I've tried mediums I never thought I could tackle. I used to think I was shy and dove into public speaking, and even scarier - teaching middle school.

4. I haven't quit. I'll never quit unless forced to.

5. I love what I do. I'm the luckiest person in the world to be able to work hard enough to make myself see double a good amount of the time.

I don't mind at all being fenced in. You might not mind it either. Just remember, if you make sure you're fenced in area is big enough - the universe is the limit, baby.

Moo.

And they're all for sale! Just contact me for prices.

Come on. You know you want to.

It's been a looooong rainy May here. And June looks like it's shaping up to be just as dreary. Rain, rain in the extended forecast as far as the eye can see.

But not today. Today we get a break.

Today there was this unfamiliar thing rising in the east. Instead of the thick muffling of gray lightening a tad, the morning sky turned more pinks and purples than I'd seen since I went to that one bar that serves all those wild cocktails. Yay, cocktails! Er, I mean yay, sunrise!

Suddenly, everything looks new and shiny. The birds sound not so much like annoying, nit ridden alarm clocks determined to get you out of bed which you don't really want to do (because then you have to take the ungrateful little dogs out for their morning downpour walk), the birds sound like nit ridden harbingers of all things wonderful.

Sunshine is a good source of vitamin D and vitamin D is one of those things you want. One of it's benefits is to help your brain process information. It can even increase its capacity to learn. So maybe then my brain can spend less time trying to figure out where I left my car keys and more time on thinking up stories to write and pictures to paint.

The ungrateful little dogs and I went out for a morning sunny walk rather than a puddle stomp and now they're crashed out in a sun-patch on the rug. The light steams through my studio window along with the robins' and the towees' conversations. You'd think I'd be resentful at needing to stay inside and work in the midst of such weather, but I'm not. My fingers are jumping over the keyboard faster than they have in weeks. The artwork on my drawing table now looks more like an invitation to come and play rather than a chore to complete.

Here comes the sun.

Here comes a fresh blast of creativity.