Ray Leach
Our behaviour as adults, and our coping skills, can largely be reflected by and attributed to our experiences growing up. During those early stages of development we are sponges that soak up our environment, behaviour of peers, teaching, playtime and, of course, books. After delving back into the books of my childhood, I wondered whether our artistic tastes come from childhood influences, such as children’s books and illustrations.
We’re all drawn to liking certain paintings, drawings, music, literature, furniture and so on, so what if our core creative ideas and inclinations stem from childhood influence?
Janet and Allen Ahlberg are authors whose names I only recently learned, yet their books I can recall cover to cover. I feel that they’re owed a “thank you” – or at least a big hug – for all the joy that they have provided throughout my life.
Funny Bones, The Jolly Postman and Mrs Lather’s Laundry were all pillars of my upbringing.
The memory of these books also still remains with my siblings and parents. Occasionally, we even quote them and their rhymes.
When my mum is doing laundry and my dad approaches with more clothes, she exclaims (in a joking tone, of course), “what do you think this is, Mrs Lather’s Laundry?”
Some of the ‘greats’, such as Dr Seuss or Roald Dahl, will always be remembered. But perhaps that has more to do with the Hollywood remakes, like the recent release of Wonka (2023). Children’s literature references are placed right under our noses regularly in mainstream media, yet how often do we actually browse the children’s section of a bookstore purely for joyful nostalgia?
The brilliance of children’s books feels somewhat overlooked. Naturally, children don’t keep account of their favourite novelists, but perhaps as adults it’s time to revisit and appreciate the joys of children’s books and illustration.
Chris Riddell’s illustrations, for example, heavily inspire the way that I approach character drawing. I refer back to his work to remind myself of that child-like awe I used to experience. It would seem that the inspiration that we seek in our creative endeavours as adults already exists in our memories. We can pull from childhood in a way that suits our lives as adults.
“Each peach pear plum, I spy Tom Thumb.”
This might become:
“Mean teen moans at Mum, each expecting opposite outcomes.”
Or, to quote Dr Seuss…
“Please, sir. I don’t like this trick, sir. My tongue isn’t quick or slick, sir.”
In adult lingo, this would become:
“Please, mate. Tuck away your builders bum, mate. My poor eyes can’t bear the burden of the sick sight, mate.”
…Okay, maybe I’m not on Seuss level just yet.
