The Making of an Artist

A Quarterly
E-Newsletter full of tips
and tidbits to inspire your
whole family to write and
draw from life.

The Girlhood Home Companion
Back Issue Album

The Pebbly Brook Farm Journal

The Art of Nature Journaling
Coming Spring 2008

Wings and Stings
~by Agnes McCleellan Daulton
A Delightful Nature Narrative
Including the
Author's Illustrations

By Jill Novak

     When I was a little girl, I spent many hours catching insects in the milkweed and tall grass that surrounded our home in Northern Illinois. I stored my precious specimens in a wooden jewelry box, packing them tightly into the tiny drawers. I remember the wonder I felt as I stared into the compound eyes of countless dragonflies and the thrill of holding the delicate wings of a Monarch butterfly between my fingers. The bright sunlit fields and carefree days of childhood warm me, even now, all these years later.
    The subdivision of ranch homes that my family lived in was built on the site an old farm, and the surrounding fields eventually became the property of the grade school I attended. Behind the school was the farmer’s back forty, called “The Cow Path” because of the trodden-down path the cows made on their way to and from the barn. I can remember riding my bike around the school building, playing for endless hours on the playground equipment, and coming home for lunch from school every day.
    The pond behind the school was abundant with frogs and salamanders in the summer—ice skating, aching feet, and red cheeks in the winter. There was even a steep hill directly in back of our house for sledding. It was an ideal country setting, even though we were practically in the middle of town. I know my parents thought of moving to an older, quainter community nearby, but the lure of open spaces made them stay put.
    I was free to run up and down the hill and through the fields, enjoying nature firsthand. Occasionally trees and flowers would find their way into my childish drawings. It is no wonder that at an early age one of the first pictures I painted was of a field, a fence, two trees, and a haystack. My mother entered it the county fair where it won a second premium.
    My mother blessed me with a love for drawing, painting, and the creative process that has now been passed on to my children. She fostered a hands-on, creative home environment by providing an endless stream of art supplies and countless hours to explore with them. And although she died over nineteen years ago, the fruit of her labor and her zest for life carries on. Thanks Mom!