I met a buyer at Loutet Farm not long ago, who was looking for a full size print of “Ladybugs.” She had a friend, she said, who was crazy about them. The art was to be her birthday gift at the end of August.

The ladybugs were only the second poster I made. I remember struggling with different types of adhesives, thinking that I had to get clever with spray glues. That never panned out, and today, as I finished my new series of birds, I found myself reaching for plain, ordinary Scotch tape. You know, if it ain’t broke, why fix it?

Back to the ladybugs. I was thrilled to get this poster printed up, as I have been moving towards more art sales recently. Cards are still selling nicely with retailers and at markets, but I’ve been profiling the prints more and more, with pleasing results.

So when this photo came in today, with the comment that D—- was “blown away,” I was pretty startled, too. It’s easy to become nonchalant about your early work, especially in today’s world. You’re expected to have your every move documented, every work in progress visible on a social media feed before it’s even gone to press… there’s little time for private contemplation, with everyone gazing at their phones, Instagramming and WhastApping their every move. For an artist – by nature an introvert who thrives on solitude – this is bewildering.

With that in mind, I’m going to put the last period on this little essay, hit “publish” and take a moment to simply appreciate these happy little bugs. Ten are regular, ordinary folk and two, my two, my people, are mavericks, rogues, escape artists. They think outside their box and they vote with their feet. Godspeed, little bugs. I wish you well in your journeys