Darling Illustrations | Queer Artist, Storyteller and Illustrator
Telling queer stories of hope through paintings, cards, stickers, art-prints
If you’ve been following along with Calico Jill’s adventures, you will know that she spent many months at sea before making port in a city, in search of cheese. She searched. And she searched. And at this juncture of her adventure, she happens upon Dana the chipmunk, a little gardener who has produced so much food on his little plot of land that he wants to share it with others. (more…)
In Chapter 2, Calico Jill meets a new character, Rita Racoon! Rita owns a local shop where she recycles and reuses things other people would have thrown away. She has a bit of a cantankerous attitude, but she is fond of peppy little Calico Jill nonetheless, and helps her on her treasure hunt.
Here are a few more Facts About Rita Racoon: (more…)
I have a new project to share with you: Calico Jill and the Search For Cheese! It is a story that I am writing and illustrating, filled with original characters and inspired by the Puget Sound region. It tells the adventures of a little mouse pirate who explores an urban downtown in search of golden treasure, and that “treasure” is cheese! It is a storybook about coming together in community and building a life together, a folk tale in a contemporary setting. I invite you to follow along Calico Jill’s travels with me! (more…)
Each month I release a new exclusive art print for my Patreon supporters. This month I added a little something extra: an exclusive look at my first short story which accompanies the art.
A peek at the art print is right here, and a preview of the story is below. To read the whole thing, support me on Patreon today. (more…)
I thought: let’s stay out till it rains.
The forecast says 6 o’clock.
So we dined and we danced
and we played my guitar
…without a single drop.
The sun was tucked behind the clouds
and slowly it slipped off to rest.
So we entered dark rooms,
with the dusk in our lungs,
and we trundled along off to bed. (more…)
Mr. Curmudgeon is on his knees,
spade in hand, trying to get his blade up under
each unyielding root.
I say: let the wild flowers run free.
Wishes grow like weeds.
And there are worse guests for a yard. (more…)
On the rocky shores of Owen Beach,
where the pebbles rattle in the waves,
where the surf is dark and foamy white,
she hugged my knees, afraid.
She asked to go; I asked to stay.
She sat awhile on my lap and found
five shells, a nugget of glass.
We gathered sticks, searched for wrens,
and, with a start,
she ran to the tide
to splash in the evening sound. (more…)