Whenever I give workshops to elementary school students – usually on art, calligraphy, and poetry or some combination thereof, I always share with them my work-in progress.

I will read to them and show them illustrated pages and they will be enthralled and always ask the question. “How long did it take you?”
I consider the answer to that question very important for children, especially, to hear and so I answer very carefully and honestly. When the book in question has been Mindel and the Misfit Dragons, I tell them I have been writing poems and stories since the second grade. (And, since I am probably the age of most of their grandparents, they know this is a very long time!) In other words, I tell them, I have been learning how to write this book for most of my life. The actual writing of Mindel took about two years. Then I tell them it took close to four years to do the calligraphy and artwork, during which time I studied under a master calligrapher, DeAnn Singh of Designing Letters. I worked at the calligraphy for hours every day. They are astonished at the time it took.
Then onto drawing. I am surprised and saddened at how many elementary school children already claim, “I can’t draw.” I say to them: “You don’t know that. I was over 40 before I realized I could draw.” Then I tell them my story: I’ve basically always been a writer and sometime in my forties I read a book called The Power of Your Other Hand by Lucia Capacchione, Ph. D.* She talks about using your non-dominant hand (in my case the left) to write or doodle as a way to access the creative right brain. So if you are stumped for the next line of poetry or paragraph in a story, try your left hand. Amazingly, it worked for me, but I found writing with my left laborious. The doodling, however, was liberating. I doodled with my left hand while I was writing, while I was on the phone, while I was in faculty meetings. Not only did my doodling help me think of the next line of poetry or story idea, but something else happened.
My doodles turned into grass and hills and then trees. Then there were rabbits behind the trees and meadows full of flowers and sheep. Then somehow my left hand was drawing castles and knights and farmers pulling plows. Everything was crooked and whimsical and I never quite knew what my pen would do, but the drawings were recognizable. People started asking me if I was illustrating my poems. Eventually I started saying “yes.”
Then my right hand grew courageous and began taking over when I needed straight lines, such as for castle walls, or very precise detailed work, such as for dragon scales. I like to say that my left hand taught my right how to draw and now they collaborate, depending on the task at hand.
I emphasize for the children how many years it’s been, how much I love it and how much practice I still do. I want them to understand that there aren’t just a chosen few who can do artistic/creative things. They can do it too, if they have a love for it, determination and dedication. Then we begin in class writing poems and illustrating them.
(The Power of Your Other Hand by Lucia Capacchione, Ph. D. is now available in a revised 2001 edition from New Page Books/Career Press. Learn more about her books and workshops here.)

Whenever I give workshops to elementary school students – usually on art, calligraphy, and poetry or some combination thereof, I always share with them my work-in progress. I will read to them and show them illustrated pages and they will be enthralled and always ask the question. “How long did it take you?”
I consider the answer to that question very important for children, especially, to hear and so I answer very carefully and honestly. When the book in question has been Mindel and the Misfit Dragons, I tell them I have been writing poems and stories since the second grade. (And, since I am probably the age of most of their grandparents, they know this is a very long time!) In other words, I tell them, I have been learning how to write this book for most of my life. The actual writing of Mindel took about two years. Then I tell them it took close to four years to do the calligraphy and artwork, during which time I studied under a master calligrapher, DeAnn Singh of Designing Letters. I worked at the calligraphy for hours every day. They are astonished at the time it took.
Then onto drawing. I am surprised and saddened at how many elementary school children already claim, “I can’t draw.” I say to them: “You don’t know that. I was over 40 before I realized I could draw.” Then I tell them my story: I’ve basically always been a writer and sometime in my forties I read a book called The Power of Your Other Hand by Lucia Capacchione, Ph. D.* She talks about using your non-dominant hand (in my case the left) to write or doodle as a way to access the creative right brain. So if you are stumped for the next line of poetry or paragraph in a story, try your left hand. Amazingly, it worked for me, but I found writing with my left laborious. The doodling, however, was liberating. I doodled with my left hand while I was writing, while I was on the phone, while I was in faculty meetings. Not only did my doodling help me think of the next line of poetry or story idea, but something else happened.
My doodles turned into grass and hills and then trees. Then there were rabbits behind the trees and meadows full of flowers and sheep. Then somehow my left hand was drawing castles and knights and farmers pulling plows. Everything was crooked and whimsical and I never quite knew what my pen would do, but the drawings were recognizable. People started asking me if I was illustrating my poems. Eventually I started saying “yes.”
Then my right hand grew courageous and began taking over when I needed straight lines, such as for castle walls, or very precise detailed work, such as for dragon scales. I like to say that my left hand taught my right how to draw and now they collaborate, depending on the task at hand.
I emphasize for the children how many years it’s been, how much I love it and how much practice I still do. I want them to understand that there aren’t just a chosen few who can do artistic/creative things. They can do it too, if they have a love for it, determination and dedication. Then we begin in class writing poems and illustrating them.
(The Power of Your Other Hand by Lucia Capacchione, Ph. D. is now available in a revised 2001 edition from New Page Books/Career Press. Learn more about her books and workshops here.)

One of my grandsons, who’s in elementary school, was home sick for a few days and very bored. He loves to draw so I went to the bookstore to buy him some kind of How-to-Draw Monsters or Superheroes – type of book.

What I found – in the kids’ section – were several step-by-step drawing books, the approaches of which were very structured (i.e. left-brained) and led to an impossible ideal they could never match. Even I, an adult pen & ink artist who works intuitively, couldn’t follow those instructions and even if I did, I would end up with some else’s drawing, not mine.  Then I thought from the point of view of a nine-year-old. He would either give up in frustration or conclude, “I can’t do this. I’ll never be an artist.” How many kids have had that experience, or something similar, and simply shut down a part of themselves without well meaning, loving adults in their lives ever being aware of it?
Instead I bought my grandson a book that encourages doodling. Each page has a title or question or suggestion, and a partial, very childlike drawing. The child fills in the rest. He makes it up. He draws whatever feels right. It’s a book full of joy meant to prompt joy. It provides beginnings, ideas, promptings, so there’s no terror of the blank page, but it does not provide impossible standards against which the child might measure him or herself. How liberating!
When I gave it to my grandson, he disappeared with it for over an hour. We had to cajole him to put it down and come have dinner.

What I found – in the kids’ section – were several step-by-step drawing books, the approaches of which were very structured (i.e. left-brained) and led to an impossible ideal they could never match. Even I, an adult pen & ink artist who works intuitively, couldn’t follow those instructions and even if I did, I would end up with some else’s drawing, not mine.  Then I thought from the point of view of a nine-year-old. He would either give up in frustration or conclude, “I can’t do this. I’ll never be an artist.” How many kids have had that experience, or something similar, and simply shut down a part of themselves without well meaning, loving adults in their lives ever being aware of it?
Instead I bought my grandson a book that encourages doodling. Each page has a title or question or suggestion, and a partial, very childlike drawing. The child fills in the rest. He makes it up. He draws whatever feels right. It’s a book full of joy meant to prompt joy. It provides beginnings, ideas, promptings, so there’s no terror of the blank page, but it does not provide impossible standards against which the child might measure him or herself. How liberating!
When I gave it to my grandson, he disappeared with it for over an hour. We had to cajole him to put it down and come have dinner.

I recently did a workshop in the first grade class of one of my granddaughters. I’ve done such workshops many times – on poetry, art, calligraphy, medieval manuscripts – with the emphasis dependent upon

the grade level and the wishes of the teacher.

I titled this workshop “Making Art Out of Letters” and began by talking about medieval manuscripts and how all books were once written and illustrated by hand. I showed them pictures of medieval manuscript pages with their elaborate decorative letters, as well as pages from medieval haggadahs. This being a Jewish day school, the girls are very familiar with the Passover haggadah, which tells the story of the Exodus from Egypt. They enjoyed seeing pictures of castles and court jesters in the 15th Century Washington Haggadah by Joel Ben Simeon, and even a dragon on a page from the 14th Century Barcelona Haggadah!

Next I told them about the book I’m finishing now – Mindel and the Misfit Dragons – an original verse fairy tale which I have hand-lettered and illustrated like a medieval manuscript. It’s a story about a young girl from long ago who lives in a castle where it’s very difficult to keep the Sabbath, and about the so-called misfit dragons who help her. I showed the girls pictures and decorative letters from the book and read a few pages. They were enthralled and asked how long it’s taken me to write and illustrate this book. I told them I’ve been working on it since they were about a year old! There was a collective gasp, but that’s a good thing. I want students to realize it takes time and effort to create art, to do anything worthwhile. I showed them pages from my sketch books, where I practiced drawing dragon scales, tails and faces as I taught myself how to draw those wonderful creatures.

Then I taught them my “There are no mistakes” principle of drawing. I drew a tree on the board and said, “Let’s say I want to draw a rabbit peeking around the side of the tree.” (I attempted it.) “But my rabbit doesn’t really look like a rabbit. So – watch – I turn her into a bush!” Next I drew a house and attempted a dog next to it. But I told them, “Somehow my dog looks more like a lion. So let’s make him a lion. Now, what would a lion be doing next to a house? Hmmm… Is there a story here?”

Next I spoke about fountain pens and ink. I always bring ink bottles and dip pens – metal nibs as well as glass pens – for the kids to try. I want them to get the feel of the ink flow, and after they each got a turn I passed out disposable fountain pens with built-in ink cartridges and taught them how to use them.

Then we began the main activity, each girl creating a decorative letter – the first initial of her name. I’ve done an alphabet of full-page letters in the Lombardic calligraphic style and I had each girl’s initial ready to go. First I had them use a blank piece of paper to practice drawing different elements that they might want to incorporate into their decorative letter. This could be castles, flowers, dogs, butterflies, dragons, people – anything they wanted. I walked around the room, helping and encouraging them. Then when each girl was ready, she began to draw in and around her letter – first in pencil, then with a fine point black pen that I provided. Later, she would color her work.

The girls were so excited and worked feverishly. Not once did I hear, “Oh, I made a mistake. Can I have another paper?” Instead I heard things like, “Look! I meant to draw a house but it turned into a tower so now I’m making a castle!”

I was exhilarated, the teacher was smiling and my granddaughter was having the time of her life.

I ended the session by giving each girl a copy of a dragon I drew a long time ago. It’s a side view and on each one I had glued a faceted bead in the center of the eye. For dragons, you see, are known to have beautiful, glowing eyes.

the grade level and the wishes of the teacher.

I titled this workshop “Making Art Out of Letters” and began by talking about medieval manuscripts and how all books were once written and illustrated by hand. I showed them pictures of medieval manuscript pages with their elaborate decorative letters, as well as pages from medieval haggadahs. This being a Jewish day school, the girls are very familiar with the Passover haggadah, which tells the story of the Exodus from Egypt. They enjoyed seeing pictures of castles and court jesters in the 15th Century Washington Haggadah by Joel Ben Simeon, and even a dragon on a page from the 14th Century Barcelona Haggadah!

Next I told them about the book I’m finishing now – Mindel and the Misfit Dragons – an original verse fairy tale which I have hand-lettered and illustrated like a medieval manuscript. It’s a story about a young girl from long ago who lives in a castle where it’s very difficult to keep the Sabbath, and about the so-called misfit dragons who help her. I showed the girls pictures and decorative letters from the book and read a few pages. They were enthralled and asked how long it’s taken me to write and illustrate this book. I told them I’ve been working on it since they were about a year old! There was a collective gasp, but that’s a good thing. I want students to realize it takes time and effort to create art, to do anything worthwhile. I showed them pages from my sketch books, where I practiced drawing dragon scales, tails and faces as I taught myself how to draw those wonderful creatures.

Then I taught them my “There are no mistakes” principle of drawing. I drew a tree on the board and said, “Let’s say I want to draw a rabbit peeking around the side of the tree.” (I attempted it.) “But my rabbit doesn’t really look like a rabbit. So – watch – I turn her into a bush!” Next I drew a house and attempted a dog next to it. But I told them, “Somehow my dog looks more like a lion. So let’s make him a lion. Now, what would a lion be doing next to a house? Hmmm… Is there a story here?”

Next I spoke about fountain pens and ink. I always bring ink bottles and dip pens – metal nibs as well as glass pens – for the kids to try. I want them to get the feel of the ink flow, and after they each got a turn I passed out disposable fountain pens with built-in ink cartridges and taught them how to use them.

Then we began the main activity, each girl creating a decorative letter – the first initial of her name. I’ve done an alphabet of full-page letters in the Lombardic calligraphic style and I had each girl’s initial ready to go. First I had them use a blank piece of paper to practice drawing different elements that they might want to incorporate into their decorative letter. This could be castles, flowers, dogs, butterflies, dragons, people – anything they wanted. I walked around the room, helping and encouraging them. Then when each girl was ready, she began to draw in and around her letter – first in pencil, then with a fine point black pen that I provided. Later, she would color her work.

The girls were so excited and worked feverishly. Not once did I hear, “Oh, I made a mistake. Can I have another paper?” Instead I heard things like, “Look! I meant to draw a house but it turned into a tower so now I’m making a castle!”

I was exhilarated, the teacher was smiling and my granddaughter was having the time of her life.

I ended the session by giving each girl a copy of a dragon I drew a long time ago. It’s a side view and on each one I had glued a faceted bead in the center of the eye. For dragons, you see, are known to have beautiful, glowing eyes.