All the years the children were little our shelves filled with picture book, as did the table, bedsides, extra cupboards. I was mad for picture books and used any occasion to indulge my passion by gifting one of my children with a book. This Christmas my 26 year old gifted me with Oliver Jeffers The Day The Crayons Quit. I have read it and read it and taken delight in the surprise and colour and the delight of it.
More than this though I took it as affirmation for the direction my writing was taking. After years of focussing on poetry and an occasional essay, review or speech, I am re-embracing the picture book. That most eloquent of forms with its tight use of words and its capacity for shifting the world just a little bit being given to me by my youngest child.