The other day, we met with the graphic artist at my house. The meeting went well… I think.
We’re all on the same page, again… I think.
When it became clear that my words weren’t doing the job in explaining my vision for the cover, I attempted to sketch out what I was seeing in my mind’s eye. The penciled sketch was able to give a tangible image to the message we wanted, and Katherine shared this rough sketch with the graphic artist.
To his credit, he didn’t laugh or scoff at it. He actually said it was quite helpful, and what we wanted was “doable.”
To his credit, he didn’t laugh or scoff at it. He actually said it was quite helpful, and what we wanted was “doable.”
The graphic artist even asked if he could take a copy of the sketch with him.
Without missing a beat, Katherine asked for a copy (signed and dated) for herself, so she could put it up at her home…
I’m now imagining my sketch tacked on her refrigerator — where, of course, all great artwork is displayed.
It’ll sit amidst a number of colorful Picasso-like pictures her 7-year-old son has done for her — and with them sitting side-by-side, it’ll be hard to tell who drew which…
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