One thing I discovered while creating the characters for our Pond Dance collection is that there is absolutely nothing common about the common frog.... In fact they may just be one of the most other worldly creatures on earth.
Part of their 'commonness' is that we are located close to them as the most widespread amphibian in it's range here, as well as the fact that we might often find ourselves walking past and peering into their 'homes'. Even growing up in the heart of London I knew the sounds of frogs, saw their eggs and occasionally spotted them. Part of their commonness has cemented them into our imaginations and over time they have become staple characters in children's books and films, perhaps because artists and writers could see and study them.
Could anything be more astounding then their quick tongues catching an unassuming fly, their loud croaks and impressive leaps? Unlike us, they are not restricted to breathing through their lungs. Their moist skin is perfectly designed for efficient gas exchange, a breathing process known as cutaneous respiration.
The Frog I painted as a mysterious type figure with it's back turned away from us, a kind of wise figure and keeper of the pond. I love it that they hibernate under rocks, in compost heaps and sometimes in mud. Somehow always submerged between two worlds they can breath in. On his back a woman with bright red hair (which reminds me of my aunt who used to dye her hair the same brightness as carrots which I loved as a child!). Humans make much more of an appearance in this collection, I think as a way to denote our closeness and our relationship to the wildlife of ponds which is somehow both close and faraway. We are always dipping our toes, fingers and jars into the pond to discover more but there is always so much we don't see and understand in the dark water, sometimes covered in green algae.
What I soon realised as I began to research the wildlife of ponds in the UK was that everything was not quite what it seemed and what I was presented with was a cast of characters that could easily be from a marvel film of superheroes. Take for example the Pond Skaters (the clue is in the name) who use special water-repellent hairs to stand on the surface of water, with front legs catching food and back legs steering. Or the Water Boatmen who can row with oar-like legs and carry a silvery air bubble on their body for breathing. I wonder if watching them is what shaped the rowing boat as we know it.
In a similar way, we might anticipate spotting a dragonfly hovering over water on a Summer's day, but how outrageously alien like and unfamiliar they strike us with their iridescent wings or blood red bodies (like the Scarlet Darter that features in our design) when they come close for a few seconds. For the illustration it only seemed fitting that the Blue Tailed Damselfly and Scarlet Darter dragonflies should transform into the ballroom dancing figures, holding court in their glamorous hats and tails.
I have discovered since drawing wildlife that it is almost impossible for me to try to capture mammals and insects in an accurate way (I am not a trained wildlife or botanical illustrator). I realise just how complex a foot of a bird is and even how a leaf from an oak tree could take a lifetime to capture in all its glory. Instead I look to some of their behaviour and characteristics to inspire the creatures I create. It is the hidden life of nature that fascinates me, all of the things happening that we don't see and might not ever fully understand. Nature gives us the perfect fertile ground to help us understand the material world but in equal measure for play and make believe.
The Pond Dance for me is a reminder to love the wonder that we are part of but also the element of nature that seems to keep us at arms length so we can dream up stories as a way to get closer still.
