I have such warm, fuzzy memories of the Berenstain Bears, one of my childhood favorites. It’s surprising to me when I pull up an old episode or look at a book and the illustrations are fairly flat and bright. In my memory I visualize them warm and rich and inviting, because that’s how they make me feel.
I love the simple joy of this little family, helping and caring for each other in their cozy treehouse or their old-fashioned town where most everyone is kind to one another.
I am thankful to think my family is kind of like them. We are far from perfect. We look at our electronics too much. We bicker. I worry I don’t have my daughter signed up in enough activities. But I love our simple life in our cozy, quaint home.
Sometimes when I pull up to the house at night, it looks so picture-perfect with its glowing windows, next to kind, caring neighbors. I think I am rich and thank God for such blessings.
I may not have published books or artistic ‘success’ (in the way I want it anyway), and some days I really let this get me down. But in those moments I remember I have my sweet little family and this special place all our own. And they call me Mama (even Jason when Gianna’s around, just like Papa Bear :)
In a lot of my paintings that is what I am trying to express - that warm, wholesome glow where you are cared for and loved. Like a freshly cleaned kitchen on a cold winter night and you’re about to sit down by the glow of the stovelight to homemade pie with your Grandma. That kind of stuff is where its at :) Those are the kind of things the best parts of my heart long for and treasure. <3