If My Dad Could See Me Now

f you can imagine yourself slipping into the ink pot and flowing out the end of a cartoonist’s pen, this is how I felt when I worked restoring the raw talent in Cliff Sterrett’s Polly and Her PalsSunday pages.  We just approved the color proofs and the book, all 12″ x 16″ of it, is now in the printer’s hands.

My profession of graphic design has taught me more about people than the artwork itself; I’ve worked on tight deadlines and sometimes felt like I was running up the courts along with the NBA players I helped market. You get to know the subject well and you either love it or survive the stress.

Polly and her Pals put me in touch with this amazing creator, Samuel Clifford Sterrett. I closely studied each swoosh and brush stroke as his linework danced and dipped. His characters felt like members of my own family. I stumbled along every unfolding gag with Sterrett’s bizarre unpredictable checkered pathways leading me to Paw with twinkling eyes, and the purring Kitty. Kitty—heart of a lion and the strength of a Dane. Her attitude came alive as she added her two cents in every upturned-nosed-strut. I love Sterrett’s extra little touches—the curl at the end of Paw’s beard and the crink of Kitty’s tail as it mocked the direction of the staircase. His use of patterns and inexplicable objects that appear like unexpected hail kept my interest peaked and the laughter flowing. This was not a job-this was playing with one of the kids that created sheer FUN for my parents’ generation. How awesome to be able to bring this to future generations. Sterrett was an artist some thought daffy, but in reality, of course, he was a visionary pioneer.

I am thrilled to have been a part of presenting this work. I feel as if I have met Sterrett, wish I had…perhaps in my next lifetime. Gazing through Paw’s iron-sashed windows with smiling crescent moons, I will happily dream on.

 

Powered by WordPress. Designed by WooThemes