For me, it all starts with accepting the sad truth that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve published a handful of books over an armload of years and I still haven’t a clue how to write or draw anything approximating a viable picture book. None. When you’re as lost as me, a step in any direction is a total stab in the dark.
The second thing I try to remember after accepting being completely lost is that, much to my eternal chagrin, I will never write or draw like William Steig or Arnold Lobel or Esphyr Slobodkina or Rosemary Wells or Leo Lionni or Tove Jansson or Roger Duvoisin or Lane Smith or Ellen Raskin or you or my six-year-old daughter or anyone. Trying to write or draw like someone else makes me feel not only lost, but hopelessly lost. Hopelessly lost is the worst kind of lost.
When I’ve dispensed with the formalities of pretending to know what I’m doing or that I will ever successfully pull off being anyone other than me, I take out my pencils and a current favorite pad and let the only brain I will ever have tell me what it’s thinking. It has been chewing over bottles for years. And people in bottles. And mulling over hairdos of late. And mustaches. And mermaids with mustaches and hairdos. And seaweed. And tubeworms. And coral. And deep-sea hydrothermal vents. I have no idea how to draw deep-sea hydrothermal vents. And sunken treasure chests. And gumball machines. And balloon vendors. And people with no arms who don’t seem to care that they have no arms because they are stuck in bottles. And that we never have enough cookies in the house. Or enough batteries. Cookies and batteries and toilet paper should just regenerate themselves before you’ve had the misfortune to realize you’re out of them….but they never do, do they?
It’s generally easier to see when someone else is lost. Or when someone else is trying to write or draw like someone other than themselves. Or when someone else is having fun. It is harder to see yourself having fun because the very act of seeing yourself do so takes you out of the experience of having the fun you were having before you went ahead and ruined it by having a meta moment about what you were doing. Which is no longer having fun. It is thinking about having fun. Which is not as fun…no matter what you think. It just isn’t.
For me, the key to embracing my lostness, in the not-hopeless fun-having way I try to embrace being lost, is by trying to be present. What does that mean? I’m not entirely sure. It think it feels like not worrying about which direction I’m going because there is nowhere else but here. Where the skin ends and the scales start or a tail now curves or shells start gathering on the sea floor. It feels like not worrying about being as funny or wise or poetic or brave or dexterous as anyone else. It means not realizing that the last Oreo disappearing in my greedy maw at this very moment is the very last delicious thing in the ENTIRE HOUSE.
It doesn’t matter. I’m drawing scalloped-shell mermaid brassieres. Or merrily tracing chest hair. Or bottling the moon. Or realizing I can also draw with the green fountain pen I’ve previously been afraid to use. Even the red one. Yes…THE RED ONE! There is no one telling me I can’t use the green or red pens other than me, is there? They’re my pens for god’s sake. When was a “Pencils Only Rule” ever voted in as a Constitutional Amendment? There is no federal mandate forcing me to draw my characters in profile either (wait…there isn’t?). And congress has yet to make me learn foreshortening. Or write about things I don’t want to draw in profile…or foreshorten.
Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Front-View Happiness! Woo hoo. Look at me. No hands. No clue where I’m going. I’ve got all of later today and tomorrow and the rest of my life to work up a healthy froth over not knowing how the heck I’m going to turn anyof this flotsam into a book or that the flashlight in the “emergency drawer” doesn’t work. Right now not even Theodore Geisel could be having more fun than me.
Fun…and regenerative toilet paper…and C batteries… and fresh Oreos… and mermaid bras… and chest hair… that’s just what the doctor ordered!
There are much more potent prescriptions out there. I’ve read them here on PiBoIdMo. It’s sick how smart and generous and talented you people are. And by sick I mean inspiring. I may be incurably lost, but I know enough to leave the dispensing of real medical advice to those of you who actually know what you’re doing. I’m a fruit-flavored chewable guy. If it tastes too bitter going down, I can’t ask you to swallow it either.
Learn more about the inexplicably incomparable (Tara’s description) Robert Weinstock and his books (like I’M NOT and FOOD HATES YOU, TOO!) at his website, CallMeBob.com.
218 comments
Comments feed for this article
November 2, 2012 at 12:12 am
Hannah Holt
Lost is a wonderful place to be. As long as it’s not the Denver airport when you are ten years old. But lost in picture books sounds like a lovely kind of wandering. Thanks for the trip!
November 2, 2012 at 11:12 am
robert
sorry to hear you were lost at the denver airport at any age. glad you wound up somewhere all these years later, hannah
November 2, 2012 at 12:31 am
Jen
I keep thinking how incredibly lucky your six year-old daughter is to grow up with that beautiful book in the house. I loved this post. Sensible and brilliant. Talented and humble.
November 2, 2012 at 12:53 pm
Robert Weinstock
Thanks, Jen. But I’m the lucky one b/c my daughter teaches me so much about what it means to be a creative, curious, engaged person. That’s just the way it is with kids, no?
November 2, 2012 at 8:58 pm
Jen
No indeed 🙂 I mean, yes!
November 2, 2012 at 1:01 am
patientdreamer
Oh my!
Funny but I kept quietly nodding as I read this post and looked at these beautiful illustrations, and still I nodded slowly…. I have no idea why…lol.
Maybe I’m lost…lol.
November 2, 2012 at 1:17 pm
Robert Weinstock
sounds like maybe you are. sorry….or do I mean congratulations?
November 2, 2012 at 1:01 am
cravevsworld
Beautifully put. I’ve never been so spiritually charmed by such rambling.
Thank you for reminding us how it’s not the “destination” but rather the “journey” that counts.
November 2, 2012 at 1:20 pm
Robert Weinstock
it’s all about the journey. or so I’ve heard.
November 2, 2012 at 1:28 am
juliebehm
Another lost one here and I simply love this. Oh, how this makes me want to draw. Thank you for this wonderful post and the fabulous illustrations.
November 2, 2012 at 1:21 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, julie. draw! what’s stopping you? paper? pencil? you’re in business!
November 4, 2012 at 12:47 am
juliebehm
I did! For the first time in a while, I just put pencil to the paper and drew with no pressure or preconceived notion of what I should draw. It was fun and freeing, loosened me up. I’m looking forward to seeing what will appear on the pages tonight. 🙂 Thank you, I needed this!
November 5, 2012 at 10:03 pm
Robert Weinstock
siss! boom! bah!
go julie go!
that’s great news.
November 2, 2012 at 1:28 am
Loni Edwards (@LoniEdwards)
Your post put me in the present and inspired me. It was brilliant. Thank you!
November 2, 2012 at 1:23 pm
Robert Weinstock
Very nice of you to say so, Loni. Good luck! It’s both easier and harder than it seems. Being present. All you can do is try again when you realize you’re somewhere else.
November 2, 2012 at 2:29 am
Larissa Marks
Wonderful post. I am terrible at losing myself, and getting settled into the present. But I do hope that I grow into that as a writer.
November 2, 2012 at 1:24 pm
Robert Weinstock
i think it gets easier to get lost as you get older and start caring less about being what you think you’re supposed to be. at least that’s what I keep telling myself. so let’s go with that. good luck, larissa!
November 2, 2012 at 2:33 am
tinamcho
I’ll try not to compare myself to others, even though I feel lost in the writing world as well. Maybe I need to buy a bag of Oreos!
November 2, 2012 at 1:25 pm
Robert Weinstock
oreos are a great start! and batteries! can’t go wrong with either. trust me.
November 2, 2012 at 3:21 am
Marcy P.
OH. MY. GOODNESS. This was laugh-out-loud funny… and yet so terribly, remarkably true… Oh to have a comrade in lostness! And the comments thus far have been equally entertaining! Ah, but not just for entertainment’s sake. It was like the shortest, most randomly (yet eloquently) stated version of 1,000 Gifts… summed up. Be present. Enjoy being lost. Do what you do.
Thanks for sickening (and by sickening, I mean inspiring) post!!!!
November 2, 2012 at 1:27 pm
Robert Weinstock
Thanks, Marcy. Welcome to the quarantine zone!
November 2, 2012 at 4:48 am
julietclarebell
I think I’d like your books. A lot. Embrace the lostness.
Thanks, Clare.
November 2, 2012 at 1:29 pm
Robert Weinstock
you might not. a lot of folks don’t. i wish they did. but such is life. much as I wish it were otherwise sometimes. as someone else said above…it’s about the journey…not the destination. I think that’s right. bon voyage, juliet!
November 3, 2012 at 6:48 pm
julie rowan zoch
Love I’m Not!
November 2, 2012 at 4:53 am
M. G. King
Ready to pull out my green ink and get lost in a some meandering, run on sentences today.
November 2, 2012 at 10:26 pm
Robert Weinstock
now you’re talking! don’t worry about punctuation or spelling either.
November 2, 2012 at 5:21 am
Pam
I am lost pretty much all of the time. I don’t mind being lost so much. It’s when I stop and lecture myself about being lost. Or when I list reasons why my story will never sell. Or why the odds are against me. But when I’m happily lost and tell my Mr. Hyde to clam up, lost is a great place to be. Your work is incredible. When I look at these pages I see magic. So much magic that I had to stop reading and just stare at those mermaids and bottles and wonder how in the world they got there, and how they could look so calm considering things. Thank you for the inspiring post! Pam
P.S. No profiles or foreshortening, yes!
November 2, 2012 at 10:29 pm
Robert Weinstock
you should also never have to appear in photographs either. with or without a big fake smile. unless you want too. don’t even get me started on 3pt perspective. never worry about the odds, pam. the odds are stacked against everyone.
November 2, 2012 at 6:16 am
laurasalas
Robert! Happy to see your post. (How have I missed I’M NOT? I am off to search for it right now.) Love the drawings you shared. You just gave me the courage to pick up a sketchbook I started a couple of years ago and abandoned because I can’t draw *anything.* But I’m going to just embrace that and doodle anyway. And I’m going to share this post everywhere I can because your words are wonderful. So many writers stumbling around in the dark creating amazing things, all feeling lost. It’s nice to know there are comrades about:>)
November 2, 2012 at 1:31 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, laura. I continue to enjoy reading your books with my daughter! fyi…everyone can draw something. it’s often the folks who think they can’t draw who draw the funnest things. scouts honor. i was never a scout but I mean it nonetheless. really.
November 2, 2012 at 6:28 am
Tabatha
Love this post! It made me happy. Thanks 🙂
November 2, 2012 at 1:32 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, tabatha!
November 2, 2012 at 6:37 am
Gary Masskin
Different. Unexpected. Authentic. I like!
November 2, 2012 at 1:39 pm
Robert Weinstock
Had no idea what I was going to write so “unexpected: makes sense. Thanks, Gary.
November 2, 2012 at 6:55 am
Becky Hall
This post might be the cure for my analysis paralysis and help me overcome those big empty white pages! Thank you.
November 2, 2012 at 1:41 pm
Robert Weinstock
big empty white pages give me the bends too. that’s why I draw in small brown pads. much less daunting. good luck, becky!
November 2, 2012 at 6:57 am
Cathy Ballou Mealey
My 9 year old is constantly challenging me to understand her usage of the term ‘sick.’ I think I’ll test yours out on her today. Had a lovely time getting lost in your post!
November 2, 2012 at 2:07 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, cathy. you’re braver than me.
November 2, 2012 at 7:19 am
Caroline Starr Rose
Beyond the hilariousness of this, I’m loving the freedom. Thank you!
November 2, 2012 at 2:10 pm
Robert Weinstock
mermaid brassieres and chest hair could be yours too, caroline! or whatever your equivalents might be. they’re right there for the picking. trust me. carpe diem.
November 2, 2012 at 7:26 am
deborah freedman
I’ll be looking for a book called LOST, by Robert Weinstock, in 20–.
See the rest of you in outer space…
November 2, 2012 at 2:11 pm
Robert Weinstock
if only you were in charge of my brain, deborah. one day, maybe?
November 2, 2012 at 7:59 am
Kim MacPherson
Oh my goodness, I absolutely loved this post and laughed out loud (which I almost never do from reading something)! Inspiring, funny, brilliant, REAL… all at once. The next time I feel lost (probably in the next five minutes), I will pull out the sketchpad, grab a pack of Oreos and start dreaming. Thank you for this!!
November 2, 2012 at 10:32 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, kim. sugar wiffle waffle wafers and popsicles are also good in a pinch, so don’t feel like it has to be oreos.
November 2, 2012 at 8:03 am
C. C. Gevry
You mean I can feel comfortable being lost? Who knew. Thanks for the inspiration.
November 2, 2012 at 2:11 pm
Robert Weinstock
yes we can!
November 2, 2012 at 8:04 am
maria johnson
My daughter did the I’M NOT book trailer. I’m not kidding when I say it’s one of the sweetest funniest PBs ever. Thank you Robert for this so very honest excellent exploration and explanation of the angst. I love it but love love the octopus most of all.
topangamaria
November 2, 2012 at 2:18 pm
Robert Weinstock
The main reason I’m Not is as good as it is is because of Pam Smallcomb’s disarmingly simple but brilliant text. There’s no substitute for good writing. Fun pictures can only go so far. Pam Smallcomb is the real deal. And she sews incredible dolls too. And is an excellent egg of a person. Penguin royalty, according to some sources. Your daughter did a great job on the book trailer, Maria!
November 2, 2012 at 8:08 am
Julie Falatko
I hereby request the above drawings in the following forms: shirt, mug, wallpaper, pants, stuffed animals, murals on my kitchen cabinets, billboards, ephemeral chalk drawing, pasta boxes, embossed on chocolates, and bumper sticker. Thank you.
November 2, 2012 at 2:21 pm
Robert Weinstock
embossed on chocolates? now you’re talking! thanks, julie! after deborah is done being in charge of my brain maybe you could take over? pasta boxes of success your way too!
November 2, 2012 at 8:14 am
lizjonesbooks
I adore these pictures. ❤
November 2, 2012 at 10:33 pm
Robert Weinstock
much obliged, liz!
November 2, 2012 at 8:23 am
Donna Martin
What a fun, wild, and wacky post! I LOVED it!! And may we all get “lost” in the wonderful world of PiBo this month!
Donna L Martin
http://www.donnalmartin.com
http://www.donasdays.blogspot.com
November 2, 2012 at 10:36 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, Donna. am looking forward to learning from all the wisdom and wackiness to come the rest of this month.
November 2, 2012 at 8:26 am
Jarm Del Boccio
Robert, I love your whimsical drawings…they inspire me! I’m sure there will be a PiBoIdMo story to embellish them. Keep up the good work.
November 2, 2012 at 2:22 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, jarm. boundless embellishments your way too!
November 2, 2012 at 8:31 am
cgbailey
Love this post and love those drawings.
November 2, 2012 at 10:36 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, cg!
November 2, 2012 at 8:41 am
Catherine Johnson
Oh my goodness, that was so funny and poetic. I love the line ‘work up a healthy froth’ and your illos are exquisite, very you 😉 What a great motivator to be yourself. Thank you!
November 2, 2012 at 2:25 pm
Robert Weinstock
if you only knew what a grim slog it was to be me much of the time, catherine. but even the strictest of taskmasters has a softer side. healthy frothings to you, Catherine! I hope your internal motivator blows a quieter whistle than mine.
November 2, 2012 at 8:42 am
Robyn Campbell
Could I be lost?? Dare I ask? This post kept my mind in a lost sort of place. Thank you, thank you. It gave me the giggles and set my mind right for PiBoIdMo and for my stories I am writing for 12 x 12. Sweet!
November 2, 2012 at 2:29 pm
Robert Weinstock
you might be.
i need to look up what 12×12 is.
good luck with 30 in 30!
November 2, 2012 at 8:45 am
Deb Marshall
OH my gosh. Hands down one of my favourite blog posts read…ever!! Frankly I am glad you are lost. And now I’m glad that I am too. Thanks for taking the time to write this and share with us.
November 2, 2012 at 2:30 pm
Robert Weinstock
Mom… are you pretending to be Deb Marshall again?
November 2, 2012 at 8:48 am
Beverly Patt
OMG. TOO funny. And inspiring and brilliant, all at the same time.
To be lost, in the zone, is what we all strive for, every day we sit down to our drawing boards or computers. Thanks for the reminder!
Now I’m off to google these books!
November 2, 2012 at 10:38 pm
Robert Weinstock
in the zone. that’s the kind of lost I meant. yes! good luck, beverly!
November 2, 2012 at 8:53 am
Cindyb
Thank you, thank you, for mentioning Tove Jansson! I’d lost him over the years- loved his books when I was growing up. I shall try to go find him again, hoping my library has kept his books. I think I’ll look up some Robert Weinstock, too. Good reading ahead!
November 2, 2012 at 10:38 pm
Robert Weinstock
there can never be too much tove janssson in the world. wow! that’s all I can say.
November 3, 2012 at 6:55 pm
julie rowan zoch
Had either of you read Philip Nel’s post on the Moomins?: http://www.philnel.com/2012/10/12/moomins/
November 4, 2012 at 11:08 pm
Robert Weinstock
no…thanks for the heads up, julie.
November 2, 2012 at 8:54 am
lauraboffa
Thank you for letting us get lost in your mind for a bit – it was a fun trip! Those are some incredibly endearing illustrations.
November 2, 2012 at 2:32 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, laura!
November 2, 2012 at 8:54 am
Melissa T. Li ban
Great post and your work is wonderful. I’m always cursing foreshortening!
November 2, 2012 at 10:43 pm
Robert Weinstock
you never have to learn it. really. or chiaroscuro (or how to spell it) or esperanto. life will unfold for you just as well for you without any of those things. at least that’s my hope. for both our sakes.
November 2, 2012 at 9:09 am
Pam Smallcomb
You’ve inspired me greatly with your lostness. I will wander through my disjointed manuscript today and only get up for fresh oreos. You are one of my favorite artists ever. aups!
November 2, 2012 at 10:45 pm
Robert Weinstock
thank you, your majesty! wishing you goldleafed confections of the highest order!
November 2, 2012 at 9:14 am
Cindy
Thank you, I now feel that I can enjoy being lost ….love where you are! Moustaches and mermaids, steam vents and oreos! Let it all flow!
November 2, 2012 at 2:32 pm
Robert Weinstock
much flow back your way too, Cindy!
November 2, 2012 at 9:19 am
Dawnyelle Moore
I can not get over how inspiring my 2 days of PiBoldMo are already! Now, to get oreos, toliet paper and C batteries-not that I need C batteries just that now they seem to go together!
November 2, 2012 at 2:34 pm
Robert Weinstock
trust me…you’ll need c batteries when you least expect it. but oreos in hand will soften the blow of not having them. or so I’ve found.
November 2, 2012 at 9:23 am
Janie Emaus
I love this post. It’s exactly how I feel most of the time.
November 2, 2012 at 10:47 pm
Robert Weinstock
that probably means you’re onto something good. mark my words, Janie!
November 2, 2012 at 9:32 am
pascale mackey (@pascalemackey)
This could very well be the best post I’ve EVER read.
Thanks Tara and Bob.
November 2, 2012 at 2:38 pm
Robert Weinstock
mom… are you pretending to be pascale mackey now too?
November 2, 2012 at 9:35 am
Susan Clement
That was a fun read!…thanks for discussing & exploring the idea of being lost it was an interesting post and I loved the illustrations!
November 2, 2012 at 2:38 pm
Robert Weinstock
ah thanks, susan!
November 2, 2012 at 9:37 am
Angela De Groot
You are not alone.
Thanks for helping me find a way.
November 2, 2012 at 2:40 pm
Robert Weinstock
Much fun wherever you find yourself going, Angela!
November 2, 2012 at 9:52 am
Laura Anne Miller
Lost? I’m sorry, I didn’t get that because – I found ME. Thank you for emphasizing it’s okay to not be YOU, or all those other great writers and and illustrators. I tend to compare myself too much. And I loved your pics. So free spirited, unique and genuine and YOU, but not me. Have you ever noticed that when kids draw, they are not drawing ART, because they are drawing the moment, the feeling, the joy of being LOST in the moment. Oh-maybe I did get it. GREAT encouraging post. I’m going to pick up a purple pen and draw……….
November 2, 2012 at 10:54 pm
Robert Weinstock
Purple Pens all the way! and yes…that’s why there’s so much magic in kids art. I totally agree.
November 2, 2012 at 9:57 am
Donna
Fantastic blog post. LOVED IT.
November 2, 2012 at 10:55 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, donna!
November 2, 2012 at 10:23 am
Jennifer Noel Bower
Robert!!!!! I do believe that you and this post singlehandedly saved my creative life. I’ve been struggling with this “LOST” feeling for far too long, in knuckle dragging misery. Although I worry less about regenerative tp and Oreos, I do obsess about where I am in my work as compared to others and lost my voice in the process. And it ends here and now. You’ve empowered me. Thank you.
November 2, 2012 at 11:24 am
Deb Lund
Woo-hoo, Jennifer! Yup. We’re all lost. And Robert, if you’re ever interested in becoming a creativity coach, I’ll fill you in on the details… ; )
November 2, 2012 at 12:10 pm
rowboat1
I hope that’s true, Jennifer. I’ve spent too much of my life trying to write and draw like someone (anyone) else. Yours are the only knuckles you will ever have. Go easy on them. And stop comparing. It’s Muse Poison. How to look at and learn from others’ work without having it make you feel like the word’s biggest fraud is an ongoing highwire act. It’s not as easy as worrying about regenerative TP or cookies, but it’s totally doable. Good luck! -robert
November 2, 2012 at 10:43 am
Andrea Alban
Thank you so much for a view into your lOST mind! Your words and pictures shifted my view of the magic bottled up in our imaginations. I adore your sketches and, thanks to your whimsy, I am sharpening my red and green and turquoise and magenta pencils.
November 2, 2012 at 10:57 pm
Robert Weinstock
turquoise and magenta!! way to go!!! just typing those words make my fingers go ooh-la-la. really.
November 2, 2012 at 10:46 am
erin
Fantastic! This post really resonated with me. How can we discover our own story when we’re so caught up comparing ourselves to others? Thank you for this, Robert!
November 2, 2012 at 10:59 pm
Robert Weinstock
comparing is an inherently insidious yardstick. stop it now. the units of measurement will always shortchange you. what self-flagellating part of us feels the need to repeat this fruitless exercise?
November 2, 2012 at 11:04 am
Tamson
I need to get lost. Badly. Here’s a gander at one more bottle by Robert: http://goo.gl/DEY6q
November 2, 2012 at 11:02 pm
Robert Weinstock
that was a fun project, t-bone. then again…all the projects we worked on were fun! thank you for being one of the brave ones out there.
November 2, 2012 at 11:22 am
Deb Lund
Thanks for the peek into your thought-ful mind! You articulated the creative process so well. We judge others by the outside and ourselves by the inside, and we’re all running around lost. What a gift to share this with the rest of us mere mortal kidlit book creators. Thank you!
November 2, 2012 at 11:05 pm
Robert Weinstock
you’re right. i think all of us would be surprised to know how lost everyone else feels most of the time. even the people who seem totally together and seemingly exactly where they want to be. thanks, deb!
November 2, 2012 at 11:23 am
Bonnie Adamson
Bob, I was going to try for a snappy comment to match the snappiness of your post, but have had to admit defeat. Besides, maybe it was because your post was the first thing I read this morning, but it struck me as particularly, specifically and personally profound . . . and thus worthy of a more considered response.
All I can say is that I am truly happy to have made your acquaintance.
I’m keeping my eye on you, fella.
November 2, 2012 at 11:07 pm
Robert Weinstock
well then…I will just have to keep an eye on you then too…won’t I?
November 2, 2012 at 11:25 am
B.J. Lee
great post! I can totally see you doing a subversive pb. Keep at it, my friend. Let your incredible characters speak. Loved the moon in the bottle! In fact, a lot of your characters seem to be all bottled up. Try letting them out and see what they’ll do!
November 2, 2012 at 11:08 pm
Robert Weinstock
am trying, bj. I really am trying to uncork whatever I can. same to you!
November 2, 2012 at 11:49 am
rowboat1
I am out of the country visiting my inlaws while the eastern seaboard regroups from sandy. I have dodgy internet access down here, but I wanted to thank all of you for your super nice comments. None of you can have dragged and worn your creative knuckles down to more pathetic nubs than me. I realize nothing I wrote addresses the myriad other real hurdles of lugging and hauling and churning and burnishing and prodding and goading and cudgeling and coaxing and loving a grain of an idea into a workable book. But you have to start somewhere. If I know nothing else, I know that. I wish I had the means to reply to all your comments specifically but my daughter is whining and writhing on the floor because the arm she’s sewing out of felt doesn’t look 3-D enough and the wifi network I’ve snuck onto is fading in and out. I will check back in as wifi and 3-D arms permits. Good luck everyone! –robert
p.s. tamson is one of the keenest minds out there. my knuckles are forever grateful to her for all her wise counsel and her willingness to take on anything with 2-D square wheels.
November 2, 2012 at 12:01 pm
Elizabeth Rose Stanton
Now I don’t feel quite so lost in my lost-ness 😉
Thanks, truly, for an inspiring post.
November 2, 2012 at 11:11 pm
Robert Weinstock
it’s all a question of perspective, no? sometimes lost will feel terrible. other times it will be all magic and now. and shift from one to the other before you know what happened. the key is to find a way to string enough of the good lost moments together. good luck, elizabeth!
November 2, 2012 at 12:02 pm
Lori Alexander
This post made me smile. Thanks!
November 2, 2012 at 11:12 pm
Robert Weinstock
hurray! likewise, lori.
November 2, 2012 at 12:06 pm
Anne Bromley
Wow! This is the first thing I read today, and it spoke to my own “lostness” so eloquently. Thank you for the validation that we are truly humbled by whatever it is that wants to draw or write through us. For me today it’s a lost boy in a Halloween parade who hates the costume his parents made him wear.
November 2, 2012 at 11:14 pm
Robert Weinstock
that sounds like a great place to have been today, Anne. for you…not the boy in your story. hope things turn out better for him.
November 2, 2012 at 12:24 pm
dfmatthews
Reblogged this on Inkslayer's Journey and commented:
A great read 😀
November 2, 2012 at 11:16 pm
Robert Weinstock
you are an officer and a gentleman, dfmatthews!
November 2, 2012 at 12:32 pm
Talynn Lynn
Well, that certainly was a different post for inspiration! And it really did inspire a thought. So I’m off to write it down before I forget. Thanks.
November 2, 2012 at 11:18 pm
Robert Weinstock
good thinking, talynn. they’ll escape before you know it if you don’t. at least they do with me.
November 2, 2012 at 12:38 pm
LeslieG
Teehee! Thanks for the LOLs.
November 2, 2012 at 11:21 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, leslie!
November 2, 2012 at 1:20 pm
Stephanie Shaw
And now we know why there is no need for a literary GPS. Thanks, Robert! Now I believe I will get lost. And love it.
November 2, 2012 at 11:23 pm
Robert Weinstock
if you could develop a gps for my wife’s keys and wallet I’d be eternally grateful!
November 2, 2012 at 1:27 pm
Lori Mozdzierz
I like the way you think, Bob! Thanks for telling me to get lost ;D LOL!
Nothings better than getting lost in creativeness that takes you worlds away.
November 2, 2012 at 11:24 pm
Robert Weinstock
couldn’t have said it better myself, lori. bon voyage!
November 2, 2012 at 1:35 pm
stephseclecticinterests
You do lost well. 😀
November 2, 2012 at 11:27 pm
Robert Weinstock
gracious of you to say so, steph! it’s all an act. mum’s the word. my true cluelessness transcends words. that’s entre nous.
November 3, 2012 at 6:13 pm
stephseclecticinterests
My lips are sealed – rarely. ;D
November 2, 2012 at 1:36 pm
julie rowan zoch
Just came home from talking with my Java-Mamas about feeling like an impostor when it comes to illustrating and, especially for me , writing. And now you’ve gone and given me permission to like my own get-up! Sheez-Louise! Why DO we all have these silly hang-ups?
November 2, 2012 at 11:29 pm
Robert Weinstock
frauds are us. am a member of the frequent flier program. welcome aboard, julie!
November 2, 2012 at 2:51 pm
Sandie Sing
Merci beaucoup! I loved it. I think we all get lost but find ourselves. When you come out of art school and into the real world; you find yourself bending to your employer or the public. You are losing your identity and creative style in order to create for others. You become lost with ideas and yourself. If you are lucky, you can stay with creative passion and make it. If not, your creative passion is there on the weekends or when you retire.
Great inspiration at all levels.
November 3, 2012 at 10:41 am
Robert Weinstock
sounds like you already have a pretty good idea of what you’re doing, Sandie!
November 2, 2012 at 3:05 pm
Sallie Wolf
Thank you for this great post about the value of being present and being one’s self and breaking the rules one keeps creating for one’s self. This post made me happy. It was fun to read and look at. And I’ve discovered a new artist/writer I want to know more about. Heading over to callmebob now.
Sallie Wolf
November 3, 2012 at 10:45 am
Robert Weinstock
breaking the rules we create for ourselves…that’s the thing I struggle with most. the are enough rules in life without these other ones hemming us in. if you figure out the secret, sallie, please let me know.
November 2, 2012 at 3:11 pm
Lynn Anne Carol
See, you get me.
You are too funny and way too enjoyable to read. As I head out to put together my Thanksgiving decorations in the yard. I will think of you and wheel barrows filled with armless pumpkins in bottles.
p.s. it is a good thing I have arms or else how would I pick up the pumpkins. See, life is looking good for me right now.
Thank you,
Zeebs
November 3, 2012 at 10:48 am
Robert Weinstock
how in the world could I not get someone who self-identifies as Zeebs?
good luck with the yard decorations and taking full advantage of those arms of yours!
wheelbarrows? definitely don’t have enough of those in my life either. ie. none. food for thought.
November 2, 2012 at 3:40 pm
kjbateman
Thank you for the perfect description of the utter helplessness and confusion surrounding creating a new work. I still don’t understand it; I am just trying to accept it. “Not all who wander are lost”
November 3, 2012 at 10:49 am
Robert Weinstock
wandering. yes. that’s the kind of lost I meant. like brain browsing.
November 3, 2012 at 11:36 am
Lynn Anne Carol
I have two if you care to borrow one. They’re great for carring around Oreo’s. Only one catch though, they’re difficult to use without arms. That’s when you just sit in one and grunt away.
November 3, 2012 at 5:39 pm
Robert Weinstock
details details.
November 2, 2012 at 3:46 pm
Romelle Broas
You are lost as I am found. Thanks for helping come to terms with my own disorientation and accepting it. You helped me realize that this can open up a new world of imagination. Love your fun drawings!
November 3, 2012 at 10:50 am
Robert Weinstock
my pleasure. good luck with your meanderings and musings, romelle!
November 2, 2012 at 4:00 pm
Heather Newman
Thank you.
November 3, 2012 at 10:51 am
Robert Weinstock
you’re welcome.
November 2, 2012 at 6:25 pm
Kathryn Ault Noble
The woods are very dark, but now I know someone else is out there with me. 😉 And I think the art is powerful. So there!
November 3, 2012 at 10:52 am
Robert Weinstock
don’t forget the woods are lovely too. and not always dark. and never empty. courage.
November 2, 2012 at 7:08 pm
Ashley Bankhead
This post was great. It was exactly what I needed to hear. I feel lost all the time in my writing, But that is ok. I just need to keep writing.
November 3, 2012 at 10:54 am
Robert Weinstock
yes…keeping at it is the best remedy. but not in the banging your head against a wall kind of way. it needs to feel less punitive than that. how one does that I don’t know. but it can’t always feel like pushing a boudler, that’s all I know.
November 2, 2012 at 7:27 pm
Ian Robertson
Very, very thought provoking. I hope you realise that after this, you may be known as the ‘lost post man?’ There’s a PB idea right there!
November 3, 2012 at 10:55 am
Robert Weinstock
my wife is obsessed with the US Postal Service…so maybe that explains things?
November 2, 2012 at 8:08 pm
viviankirkfield
Thank you so much! I’m adding a nugget of gold (a great thought) to my PiBoIdMo journal from each guest poster. The golden nugget from you: “being in the present means not worrying about which direction I am going because there is nowhere else but here.” Your post provided a fresh perspective on writing picture books, Robert, and will certainly give many of us the freedom to create.
November 3, 2012 at 10:57 am
Robert Weinstock
phew…sometimes I’m worried all I’ve got to offer are lumps of coal. so glad to hear you were able to turn what I said into a golden nugget!
November 3, 2012 at 9:40 pm
viviankirkfield
You can stop worrying, Robert…many fires of inspiration and creativity will be started because of your ‘lumps of coal’. 🙂
November 2, 2012 at 8:59 pm
Sue Rankin
I love to lose myself in my sketchbook. I’m getting better at doing that again. It’s when I get lost in there that I truly find my way and stop feeling like an impostor who forgot to buy toilet paper again!
November 3, 2012 at 10:59 am
Robert Weinstock
are you and I mind melding, sue? sketchbooks against fraudulence!
November 2, 2012 at 10:46 pm
SevenAcreSky
Robert, loved your whimsical wandering. Give me liberty, or…oh, hand me that pencil, please.
November 3, 2012 at 11:00 am
Robert Weinstock
how about a red pen? or the orange marker? try em all.
November 2, 2012 at 11:00 pm
carterhiggins
Oh my heart. I’ve read this post four times and still can’t quite figure out the feeling it evoked in me. I think I love that.
November 3, 2012 at 11:02 am
Robert Weinstock
I have no idea what I’m talking about, Carter. that likely explains the confusion. but I’m honored you gave my ramblings so much consideration. that’s more than any of us can hope to ask for. very much obliged!
November 3, 2012 at 6:51 am
thiskidreviewsbooks
Great post! I love the pictures! I did my idea yesterday!
November 3, 2012 at 11:03 am
Robert Weinstock
I’m an idea behind. trying to remedy that today. keep up the good work!
November 3, 2012 at 10:26 am
Diana Murray
Thank you for your zen advice to engage in the present moment. It’s easy to lose sight of just having fun. Too easy. And as for your sketches…wow. Simply amazing.
November 3, 2012 at 11:12 am
Robert Weinstock
I’m so very not zen, Diana. Just a guy who’s missed enough by pointlessly fretting over yesterday or next week to know there’s got to be a better way. It’s so easy to slip back into bad habits. Have fun. There’s got to be a way to carve out space for doing that, right? Wishing you vast expanses of now Diana. I always think of Emily DIckinson and the way she compresses and expands time into small and huge measures. “Shot gamuts of eternity”…or something like that. If only all our brains could exist within the time-space-continuum of a dickinson poem we’d all be set! Maybe that’s what piBoIdMo is all about? Shot gamuts of eternity, everyone! I have no idea what I’m talking about, and even less what Emily Dickinson is. But work with me, folks. Bon weekend!
November 3, 2012 at 4:24 pm
Diana Murray
What a wonderful wish! Thank you, Robert. I’m not zen either, but I’m trying! Thoughts of past and future and thoughts of, well, analyzing my own thoughts, just feel like brain clutter. It’s so nice when you can find that special moment in writing or drawing and all of that clutter disappears for a moment. A shiny, candy-like moment. 🙂 Happy weekend!
November 3, 2012 at 1:40 pm
Rachel Hamby
Great post. I might be too uptight to get lost enough to think up mermaids with moustaches. Or maybe I can, but I’m too afraid to write it down. I will practice getting lost. thx
November 3, 2012 at 2:18 pm
Carol Nelson
Thanks for sharing! It is nice to know I’m not the only one who often feels like they have no idea how to turn these ideas into books. I guess I’ll just have to keep on winging it!
November 3, 2012 at 5:10 pm
Robert Weinstock
rachel, you can’t be more uptight than me. you may not be as disturbed as i am, which is why your mermaids are moustacheless. but you can’t be more uptight. your lostness will just look different is all. give it a whirl! no one has to know where you get lost either.
November 3, 2012 at 2:37 pm
helennhill
A single ray cast orange and red and fire through stained glass as I read this post. And, there is a tight edge that I straddle . . . between being lost, striving, caring, not caring, isolating myself, feeling exiled and being found. Thank You!
November 3, 2012 at 5:13 pm
Robert Weinstock
sounds like you’re sitting pretty, helen. it’s a tight edge indeed… and the balance is tricky. but you just have to believe you can do it.
November 3, 2012 at 3:05 pm
Penny Klostermann
“For me, it all starts with accepting the sad truth that I have no idea what I’m doing.” I loved this first line and thought…sometimes I think if I work too hard at figuring out what I am doing, that all my quirky creativity will disappear and I will be like everyone else! Now wouldn’t that be sad!….Then I read the rest of your post and felt like you were telling me to keep up the “no idea what I’m doing.”
Wonderful and inspiring….Thanks 🙂
November 3, 2012 at 5:20 pm
Robert Weinstock
hey penny…if you can go with the idea of having no idea what you’re doing that’s great. certainly better than berating yourself for not knowing. but even better is to be in that place where you’re not even having to ask the question of yourself b/c you are just doing whatever you’re doing. it’s beyond or before or below or independent of knowing or not knowing what you’re doing. it’s just doing. without any meta conception of what kind of doing you’re doing. does that make sense? that’s the place i’m always trying to find, but embracing the principle of having no idea what you’re doing is a great starting place. removes the pressure and quiets your internal editors. good luck!
November 3, 2012 at 4:27 pm
Lori Grusin Degman
Thanks for the post, Bob! I love your illustrations and sense of humor! Sadly, I’m really bad at being in the present but you’ve inspired me to try!
November 3, 2012 at 5:29 pm
Robert Weinstock
i stink at being present too, lori. i think most people do. but i’m trying my best to catch myself when I can. it’s hard. seemingly so simple. but it’s always the ostensibly effortless things that are so beguilingly hard to pull off …without practice practice practice. no?
November 3, 2012 at 5:07 pm
PiBoIdMo Day 2: Robert Weinstock’s Terminal Condition: Beginning « Writing for Kids (While Raising Them) « One Way to Wonder
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November 3, 2012 at 10:24 pm
Brenda Harris
Beautiful art and a lovely post. So glad that you shared with us. Can one get lost if they are making their own trail? It is lonely. Sometimes scary. Easy to become disoriented, distracted. And, at times, feel very very lost. (Just pondering.)
November 3, 2012 at 11:29 pm
Robert Weinstock
it’s a sound ponder, Brenda! I don’t know. what is a trail if you don’t know where you are or where you’re going? that is not a rhetorical question. what is the essence of trailness? am thinking as I write and am wondering if maybe the start of a trail comes after you’ve already accepted some precondition of being lost? That the making of the trail comes after what I’m talking about. But I could be totally wrong here. I often am. The lost I’m talking about is not a bad lost so I’m not thinking of it as something to be avoided. it’s just the necessary beginning. this all sounds way more spiritual and deep than I meant. If you only knew how not spiritual or deep I am. Am just a person who loves picture books and is trying to find a way to make the making of them seem less forbidding. i need to ponder your pondering further. food for thought. thanks, Brenda!
November 4, 2012 at 7:18 am
Brenda
I think you are right. The start of a trail comes after. No intent. No purpose. No trail. Once we have placed the first stone however, we are no longer lost. 🙂
November 4, 2012 at 6:23 pm
laurimeyers
This post is mind blowing. I plan to print this out on yellowed paper and keep it folded up in my pocket so I can absorb all of its creativity.
November 4, 2012 at 11:07 pm
Robert Weinstock
if you start growing a waxed mustache or chest hair I apologize in advance, lauri. You might want to take the paper out of your pocket at that point… unless you these flowerings are to your liking. Good luck with whatever else starts blooming where you least expected!
November 5, 2012 at 8:27 am
laurimeyers
You know, I am tired of all the wrinkle cream…a mustache or outcropping of facial hair may be better. (Hmm a hairy picture book idea?)
November 5, 2012 at 8:19 pm
pearlpops
Smells like gold to me!
November 4, 2012 at 11:27 pm
Roelant Dewerse
Oh, that’s done me a world of good – thanks a heap, Robert (Bob, going by your website URL?).
I’m trying to move from a professional civil engineering career and start writing and illustrating for kids (and me!), and the step is enormous. The more I find out about the world of writing and illustrating, the more I realise how much I haven’t invested in all that’s involved…but also the more attracted I am to trying it for myself.
I’ve recently realised that a key difficulty is putting engineering behind me for now, and going through a major personal transformation to focus on different kinds of things and even to draw on different though processes to come up with something worth while.
Your blog was a good reminder of just how different those thought processes are. If I was to design a building foundation in the way you came up with those illustrations, I’d get fried.
And lastly, I’m highly impressed that you have replied to every single post! Do you sleep?
November 5, 2012 at 9:31 am
Robert Weinstock
have never been a good sleeper, roelant. and my general feeling is that if anyone was generous enough to take the time to read what I wrote and respond to it that the least I could do would be to repay the kindness by reading and replying in turn. there are limits…obviously. and hurricane sandy slowed life at large up a little so it was easier to attend to this than it might otherwise have been. that’s a very longwinded answer. sorry. I’m more impressed that you are making such a radical career shift. bravo for that! am sure your engineering background will serve you well through many aspects of putting any and all of your books together. there is a lot of hammering and nailing and cobbling and mapping and charting and recharting that goes on. but for me, at least, the beginning….the seeds of the ideas, need to be free and come from somewhere honest and surprising. otherwise, no matter how well the rest of the project is built, the whole thing will wind up feeling a little silted or canned. but that’s just me. And there may be ways of capturing freshness and authenticity that come from a more calibrated approach. I haven’t a clue what they are. if you do, please share. in the meantime, good luck. and much fun along the way, roelant! p.s. no one calls me bob. callmerobert just didn’t seem very catchy and it’s also an inside joke that’s too long to explain since i’ve already blathered on far too long. p.p.s. i fear you would be fired from any job you had if you did things the way I did.
November 5, 2012 at 10:27 am
Brook Gideon
Robert,
Thank you for a wonderful post filled with spectacular and wondrous images. They crack me up! I like that you feel lost, as we all do. It’s weird to feel lost when you are alone in a room in your own house with only your own thoughts and some background music, but it happens and it can be a scary thing. I always feel like the amateur that I am when I feel this way, so it’s nice to know that it’s a validated feeling for even experienced folk. It’s great advice to let it all flow and get lost, you’ll never know where you end up and you just may find a new way home!
November 5, 2012 at 10:07 pm
Robert Weinstock
i totally agree with you Brook..although I’m usually lost without background music. Maybe I need to change that? wishing you boundless harmonic and melodic flowing.
November 5, 2012 at 10:40 am
angelapenadahle
This post really touched me. You get it, really get it. Made my day…REALLY! 🙂 Thanks!
November 5, 2012 at 10:11 pm
Robert Weinstock
i’m glad, angela. good luck. have fun!
November 6, 2012 at 2:58 am
ray hunt
your pictures are amazing. Some people can fly with a pencil.
November 8, 2012 at 6:41 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks ray. if you only knew how often my pencil moonlights as a pair of concrete boots.
November 9, 2012 at 11:20 am
Robert Weinstock
and by that all I meant to say is if you think I can fly with a pencil there’s a not a person posting here who can’t fly too. really. up up and away, ray.
November 6, 2012 at 9:12 am
Sharon Putnam
Terrific post! “For me, it all starts with accepting the sad truth that I have no idea what I’m doing.” So true!! I find that my best writing comes when I give up the fight to make sense out of my writing and become completely lost..
November 8, 2012 at 6:43 pm
pearlpops
yes…that’s exactly what I was trying to say, sharon. if only it were as easy to do it as it is to think about doing.
November 6, 2012 at 1:52 pm
aneducationinbooks
Meta moment? If I could like this post twice, I would.
November 8, 2012 at 6:44 pm
pearlpops
much obliged.
much obliged!
November 7, 2012 at 11:36 am
Beth MacKinney
Do you ever wonder why they call it the “Lost and Found?” Because if it’s found, it’s not there anymore. It’s really just “Lost and Still Lost.” (But I think you’ve found SOMETHING in this post.)
November 8, 2012 at 6:47 pm
pearlpops
that’s the smartest thing i’ve read in eons–sitting there in front of my nose for decades without ever thinking to sniff what was off. thanks, beth.
November 7, 2012 at 1:19 pm
sharann
I’m happy to see chest hair making an appearance in the picture book world. That merman is like an undersea Tom Selleck.
November 8, 2012 at 6:49 pm
pearlpops
You are a Burt Reynolds of kindness for saying so, Sharann. Myriad follicles of inspiration to you!
November 8, 2012 at 2:00 pm
deborah freedman
Oh man, I love this post. Makes me proud to be a writer with no idea what she’s doing.
November 8, 2012 at 6:50 pm
pearlpops
from the outside it sure looks like you know what you’re building.
November 9, 2012 at 4:37 pm
deborah freedman
Well, back at you. But flying by the seat of my pants is the way I usually travel.
November 9, 2012 at 2:58 am
Kristiane Pedersen
Finally….I know I’m not alone! Here’s to living in the moment! Sometimes I feel that is just my excuse for being totally unable to live in this left-brained world. Thank you for helping me understand that it’s okay to draw purple mermaids with whiskers and chest hair….And yes, I agree that toilet paper should spontaneously regenerate.
November 9, 2012 at 8:27 pm
Robert Weinstock
Hirsute mermaids (purple or otherwise) are unlikely to score you many book contracts, but the discoveries that come in their wake just might. Being lost means not worrying about book contracts anyway–it’s about being open to anything and everything that comes your way. There’s always time to shave or wax later. And trust me… there will definitely be a gauntlet of well-intentioned razor-wielding chest-hair cringers stewarding your ideas somewhere smoother. Enjoy the whiskers while you can!
November 9, 2012 at 10:21 pm
Jennifer Ali
RULES! There are so many! And I’ve become so mired in them. Thank you for the reminder–deprogramming will commence after reading this post…every day.
November 11, 2012 at 8:51 pm
Robert Weinstock
as in incorrigibly compliant rule-follower let me just say yes….there are way too many. ignore whatever creative regulations you can. good luck!
November 10, 2012 at 12:49 am
Jenny Boyd
Thanks for the post. Great artwork, too!
November 11, 2012 at 8:51 pm
Robert Weinstock
thanks, jenny.
November 11, 2012 at 10:36 pm
Marcie Colleen
Totally and utterly lost here in Brooklyn NYC! Hence the very late catch-up on my PiBoIdMo reading. Thank you for this post. Lost is part of the journey. Think I’ll take out my crayons and meander some more. 😉
November 15, 2012 at 9:01 pm
Robert Weinstock
Brooklyn is a good place to be utterly lost, Marcie. For all you know we lostly wander past each other all the time. Happy meandering!
November 12, 2012 at 2:59 pm
daniela weil
at last some of the shpiel i often hear at my meditation class (which i take to better my parenting skills) has spilled over to my work space and given it a spark of enlightenment! thank you so much for your inspiring word and picture flows…
November 15, 2012 at 9:07 pm
pearlpops
meditative parenting…I could use some of that. there is so much one tries to be present for in the day that it’s hard not to super unmeditatively dispense with whatever needs dispensing with. good luck with your sparks, daniela!
November 13, 2012 at 1:54 pm
wendymyersart
Best post ever! I laughed, I cried (from laughing…), and I dug out my red,green,purple,yellow markers! I can so relate to being the only one limiting myself despite the lack of Constitutional Amendments. I’m such a perfectionist-I constantly feel my work needs to be better, ‘perfect’. I often forget to be free and have fun with it! I mean, I love it always, but I fret about it wayyyyy too much! Thanks for freeing me! Very funny, touching post. Thank you.
November 15, 2012 at 9:20 pm
Robert Weinstock
your work’s lovely, wendy! making things perfect is the fastest way to squeeze all the joy out of them. at least in my experience that’s been the case. there need to be wonky handholds for someone else to heft your work beyond just being wowed in the moment. does that make sense? that’s not a constitutional amendment, by the way. it’s just a totally subjective thought, and many if not most of my thoughts are quite off the mark. but not all of them. anyway…the best way to make your work better is to have more fun with it. or so I’ve found. keep digging out those markers!
November 16, 2012 at 10:31 am
Jill Proctor
I LOVED your post. And I loved your website. Your post somehow grabbed me and really inspired me. Can’t draw for the life of me, though you somehow gave me hope that I could if I tried. And I love your drawings!
Thanks for all your words.
November 16, 2012 at 9:06 pm
Debbie Mickelson
Thanks for your post. I think that everyone is lost at some point, but they may not always be a bad thing.
November 20, 2012 at 1:55 am
Lisa Olson
Love the illustrations. Thanks for your post!
November 7, 2013 at 2:23 pm
Holly Bliss
I like the way you think 🙂
November 30, 2014 at 12:27 am
majanecka
Thank you for your original posting. Clever and fun.
August 10, 2015 at 12:02 pm
Priya
My hand is itching to pick up sketching for fun.