Not much needs to be said here, as three years ago, upon hearing of Mr. Sendak's death, I wrote an extensive reflection on my website already.
I invite you to hop outside over there to read it: "Outside Over There: Reflections on Maurice Sendak"
I invite you to hop outside over there to read it: "Outside Over There: Reflections on Maurice Sendak"
Hearing the news of his passing still haunts me to this day, and I look back upon it as a major turning point in my return to making books. Since then, I've only continued to expand my education on the life and career of this great artist who's been a bigger influence on me than I ever realized. Every now and then I stumble upon another book (in a used book store) that he illustrated, which I never even knew existed.
It was around the same time he passed away away that I began writing poems again, which grew...and grew...and grew like the forest in Max's bedroom into where my book currently stands. I find much solace and purpose in his own words:
"All my life I have been in the fortunate position of doing - creating - what came naturally to me. What could be more wonderful than a dream of childhood coming true? As a small boy, I pasted and clipped my bits of books together and hoped only for a life that would allow me to earn my bread my making books. And here I am, all grown up - still staying home, pasting and clipping bits of books together."
