Animals

Knowing When It’s Time

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There’s a saying, “All good things must come to an end.” Well, maybe not all good things, but surely, some. Coming to an end this month is the better part of my French Bulldog art business.

Inspired by so much appreciation of all the illustration I contributed to Just Frenchies magazine, I embarked on a small business on my website, selling French Bulldog cards. As time went on, I expanded to a shop on Etsy, where I’ve sold everyday blank note cards, holiday/Christmas cards, and a journal.

Little by little, I introduced new designs, and gained a small but loyal band of followers who loved and purchased my art. But then … I couldn’t seem to muster the excitement I once had for drawing these adorable dogs. I wanted to, but it wasn’t happening.

There came a point when I realized that I couldn’t see new additions being a reality, and then further on, a kind of guilt every time I’d be in my studio, looking at all the boxes of these lovely cards I’d created. It was time.

For a while now, ideas of something new have been twinkling in my brain. I realize how far I’ve come from the opening of my Etsy shop, and I need something now that sparks my excitement, that will utilize my talents in art, photography, and writing. I don’t have a clear idea of what they will be yet, but it will excite me. And I want it to touch, inspire, and excite others.

But the first step? Let go of what no longer resonates with my heart and make room for what’s to come. THIS is what is exciting me right now – making room for the unknown.

I’m doing that with a 60% off and final sale of all my Frenchie cards (journals, above, will stay). If interested, please stop by in my shop and share in my last hurrah with me.

A Very Best Friend

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Growing up in a house with a very anxious mother wasn’t easy. It affected everything and everybody. While I understand as an adult why things were the way they were, it was difficult as a child living with someone who needed to control just about everything. I didn’t consciously know it then, but I longed for someone in the house I could just `be’ with … without intrusion, always accepting, always comforting, and who’d never give up a secret. And my dog became that someone.

When I was 5, my brother 9, our parents decided we were old enough to have a dog, so at Christmas they gave us a beautiful Boxer puppy. I don’t think either of us quite `got’ the concept of having a dog at Christmas when there were still so many other exciting presents to open and play with. But Tinkerbell, as she was named, was not to stay with us very long. Within a few months she developed epilepsy. I don’t remember seeing the seizures my mother described Tink having on the kitchen floor, with blood and foam spewed all over the room. Perhaps I willed myself to forget. There were no cures for epilepsy back then, and Tinkerbell’s only option was to be returned to spirit. I was so young, and hadn’t become very attached to her yet, I don’t think I completely understood what had happened.

Then our parents got another dog. She was sold to them as a Boxer, 6 months old. I recall my mother being so happy that she didn’t drool like other Boxers whose faces were pushed in. There was a reason for that … she wasn’t really a Boxer. At best, she was a Boxer/pit bull terrier mix. My obedience trainer, when he looked at my childhood photos of her, told me that she was pure, and that was how they bred American Pit Bull Terriers back then. It didn’t matter … she quickly became the best friend and confidante I longed for. Her name was Dutchess. My mom had `officially’ named her Dutchess Von Wiggles because she had a butt that was constantly in happy motion.

Dutch couldn’t sleep with me as she wasn’t allowed on the second floor, so I slept with her whenever I could downstairs. We watched TV together, me resting my head gently on her side; and we curled up in sleep on the living room floor. Dutchess learned all the tricks a dog learns, and loved to go for walks or play outside in the yard. I can honestly say, in a way that only a dog or animal lover would understand, she was everything to me … she was my best friend. I did have a human best friend – happily, I always had friends — and I had my big brother to play with and taunt, but Dutchess was different. She was just what I needed – another soul in the house that simply loved me straight out, no matter what. And I adored her for that.

When I was little, my parents would cover her eyes and ears and I would hide. Then they’d let her go … “Find Jeanne!!” And Dutchess would search every nook and cranny downstairs to see where I was hiding, just bursting into wiggling, wagging joy when she found me. What child doesn’t live for those moments? She made me feel safe in a childhood where feeling emotionally safe wasn’t easy. Dutch was the heart, soul, and embodiment of unconditional love. She was both my rock and my wings, my compass and stars; she was my comfort and confidante. She was one little girl’s very best friend.

* This story was originally posted in 2007, and has been edited and updated.

Tinicum – the Difference of A Year

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I am very grateful to be invited to be at the Tinicum Arts Festival Author’s Table again this year. I was first invited to participate in July 2022, a month before my book was even released. I had a lighted canvas made up, bookmarks, and handouts to encourage book sales the following month. My wings, of course. And one lone sample book marked “Please do not remove”. It was all I would have for a while.

I loved chatting about my book with all who stopped by, as I did again in 2023. But 2024, invited once more, was a bit of a different story.

Last year’s event was preceded by four months of Jazzy’s slow fall into increasing neurological issues that could not be identified through endless amounts of tests. This culminated in my needing to say my last goodbye to her on the Friday right before my Sunday appearance at the arts festival.

I didn’t want to go. Didn’t know how I could possibly face discussing anything, even my book, with strangers considering the loss of this small, steadfast companion I’d adopted at three, and known and loved for eleven years.

But I went. It was a wonderful distraction. For an hour or so, I lost myself in talking about my book with so many lovely people. When my time was up, I wandered among the vendors, and found these:

No sooner had I paid, than the sky blackened and thunder rumbled in the west. I gathered my book-ish things and made a run for the car, sitting there for 15 minutes in a torrential downpour.

Jazzy was a very opinionated girl. Perhaps she left me with a small token of her love and a farewell to remember.

But the Tinicum Arts Festival … I am completely looking forward to greeting folks, signing books, and talking about writing, butterflies, art, and more on Saturday, July 12th. Please stop by if you’re in the area.

Making It Worth It

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I feel like I’m pretty safe in saying that anyone reading this post is at a point in life that if it’s worth doing at all, we want to make it worth it.

Please use your imagination and forgive the “sketch-like” appearance of the above image I created. I had a great school visit last week, and in all the excitement with the kids, we forgot to take any photos.

A school visit will always include a reading of one’s book, Q and A at the end, and some information for the children related to the book. In my case, I have discussed identifying butterflies, facts about them, plus information on the importance of pollinators, to which butterflies belong.

But it all wasn’t exciting ME. What would make ME excited about doing this book visit with “Butterflies”? What did I need to share that would have more value?

What could the story and the butterflies themselves teach? Now I had it!

Three takeaways: Use your imagination, based on our discussing Stella’s amazing interpretation of a butterfly’s appearance; always be kind to animals, based on advising kids never to touch a butterfly’s wings, lest it lose scales and be unable to fly; and embrace change, because life is full of changes, and we can be like the butterfly fighting its way out of the chrysalis, saying, “I can do this”, and “this change will make me stronger.”

Above are the 8.5″ x 11″ placards I made. The takeaways had the attention of these 6-8 year olds. And me.

Life isn’t getting any longer here. I feel a greater need to make whatever I do matter. Especially now. More than ever, we need our compassion and humanity not only intact, but strengthened. I hope I did that for a couple of those kids.

Meandering in A Confused World

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One of my small daily pleasures each morning once I’ve fed Charlie and made my coffee is to sit by the living room window and do two things – a perusal of Instagram, a gathering if you will, of positive words, thoughts and images (occasionally my own work), and then sharing them in my Stories. Then I journal to clear out the cobwebs, sort out my challenges, put to paper my joys and angst … whatever the day calls for.

While on IG, I always hope that whoever stops by gains some benefit from what I post. We know, vaguely, how the algorithms work; you get more of what you like (almost a corollary of karma, right?), and therefore, I find vast amounts of insight, positivity, and beauty. Some mornings, when I open the app, I am greeted with exactly what I need to know for that day. Because I do believe the Universe works that way.

Sometimes I share things like this, courtesy of @spiritualgoal –

Sometimes I post things I’ve been doing, like the gecko drawing above, or how I’ve redesigned my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition. (You can read that in detail here.)

But mostly, I’m sharing insights, inspiration, and the beauty of life.

Inevitably, while I scroll, I come across other things, often in Threads, about our current political circumstances. And sometimes, I drop in and read, because most of what’s really happening is on social nowadays, not the mainstream media. I find life – mental and emotional life – is a balancing act of trying to remain informed and at the same time, keeping my sanity.

It’s why the positivity is so important. Knowing, remembering, how important we are in the larger scheme of things. Even just being centered and loving in this world is a huge contribution. Holding the place of love.

And sometimes I create my own memes. This one’s for you. Just keep holding that light up high.