Sadly he’s injured now and out of action for a long while, but our bond makes that old tale feel more real than ever.”

What I’m about to share with you is a series of illustrations I made based on that true story, making that childhood tale feel more real than ever.

Ímir is special. I saw it when I saw him for the very first time. I fell in love immediately, and even though I knew he had a history of injury, I knew I had found my horse.

He had a serious leg injury, so he needed care and rest. Instead of riding, I took care of his injury. I had a horse, but I found myself walking, and walking, and walking.

I dedicated my time studying and learning more about horses, and I spent many days, weeks and months drawing and sketching them. I learnt so much just from watching—how they move, how they sleep (by standing still), and how their limbs move in different gaits.

Things I didn’t learn just from watching, I learnt in the quiet hours just from listening and looking up into the night sky. I missed the riding, but I knew I had to be patient and wait for him to be strong enough to carry me.

Spring passed, and then summer. By the end of the summer, I had climbed many hills and mountains. I was grateful for the sweet and loyal company I had along the way. I think without them, I might have started questioning whether I was doing the right thing. And I kept going.

When we got tired, we stopped and rested. When the heat of the day slowed us down, we found a cold stream to fetch some water. In the most desperate hours, we discovered some unexpected beauty, often with wings or even tails.

You might ask—what’s the desperation about? Well, without revealing too much about how the story continues, I think I am generally not comfortable with not-knowing and open endings.

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Pareidolia (/ˌpærɪˈdoʊliə) is the tendency for perception to impose a meaningful interpretation on a nebulous stimulus, usually visual, so that one sees an object, pattern, or meaning where there is none.

I’m using this phenomena as a source of endless inspiration when I use the guest bathroom at our home. While sitting there I stare at the fine lines and patterns of the floor tiles, and all kind of phantasy birds and other creatures stare back at me!

This is really a lucky find as it happens totally effortless and almost accidentally. I then use these “accidents” as a starting point for my character drawings, adding a few details until a new species evolves (not only of birds, but often).

It has now been researched that “faking” faces activate the same visual mechanisms in the brain as real ones. Obviously recognizing others is important for our coexistence and even for survival, namely being able to recognize enemies and potentially dangerous animals in time. So there is an evolutionary advantage to recognizing faces.

I made my pareidolia birds into a set of postcards of eight. If you’re interested in purchasing them (€ 10), please don’t hesitate to drop me a line: info(at)andreapricedesign.com

There are many ways to tell a story. For me as an artist and illustrator the best way is by sketching ideas into my sketch book. Words come later, and sometimes they don’t come at all. Ideally, the visual is so strong that not a single sentence has to be written in order for the story to unfold.

Or, sometimes just one single word or phrase is necessary to guide the viewer along those invisible lines that suddenly (or eventually) turn into a totally new experience.

Just think of some of the all-time best-selling children’s book, like The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle, first published in 1969 — the simple story of a caterpillar eating her way through all kind of food, before pupating and emerging as a butterfly! The small, robust picture-book stands out because of its distinctive collage illustrations that were innovative at the time of publication, real ‘eaten’ holes in the pages, and simple text around educational themes – counting, the days of the week, foods, and a butterfly’s life stages. Almost 50 million copies of this book have been sold around the world!

Where the Wild Things Are by the American writer and illustrator Maurice Sendak is another great example of how a complex topic or emotion, can be tackled by the limited use of only 338 words on 40 pages! I personally adore Sendak’s illustrations even more after having learnt a little bit more about the making — apparently shortly before starting the illustrations, Sendak realized he did not know how to draw horses and without further ado changed the wild horses to the more ambiguous “Wild Things”, a term inspired by the Yiddish expression “vilde chaya” (“wild animals”), used to indicate boisterous children.

Ever since I was a child I adored books, in fact many of them are still crowding my bookshelf, and I have grown my collection even more since I had my own children. One of their favorite books has always been “Der Hase mit der roten Nase” (The hare with the red nose) by Helme Heine, first published in 1988.

Unfortunately entirely written for the German market, it’s a lovely, simple story about a unique hare with a red nose and one blue ear. When the fox doesn’t recognise him as such, he realizes how lucky he is and loves being different.

The whole story is written as a poem:

Once upon a time there was a hare with a red nose and a blue ear. This happens quite rarely.

The German “hare” rhymes with “nose”, and “ear” with “happens … rarely”. Probably the book couldn’t be published world-wide because those carefully chosen words that rhyme simply don’t allow for an appropriate translation.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed viewing a small selection of my own ideas for a children’s book. Another book I have already written and illustrated together with my daughter Sami you can view here.

I’m always open for licensing and/or a cooperation of any kind. Or maybe you already have the corresponding story in your mind? In either case, please get in touch with me!