I am asked, often, where I get my inspiration from. Truly it comes from everywhere, everything and everyone. Buttons, music, messes, old folks, young kiddies... but mostly from the riding lawn mower.
Today, for example, I saw this little piece of birch bark curling away from this fallen trunk and thought 'Surly this how faerie books are made!' Which leads to the thought 'I wonder if there are words already scribed on that strange paper? Maybe they peel away as they are completed?" and on and on it goes. Those thoughts bump around in my head. They become forgotten. They are remembered again. Then one day I'll get around to making something that kind-of-sort-a had to do with stories on birch bark.
P.S. To the ladies taking a stroll down Bullis road at 8:30 am, if you happen to be reading this, I pinky swear I was taking this photo and not crouching to pee near the trees this morning.