Joan Walsh Anglund’s Books Impacted My Childhood
I grew up with Joan Walsh Anglund’s books and still have one, “Love is a Special Way of Feeling,” published in 1960 by Harcourt Brace and World Inc., NY. The price printed on the jacket cover is $1.75.
Through her simple illustrations and use of minimal words, Anglund expressed the emotions a child’s soul needs—and adults ', too. Her artistic style and themes captured sentiments of love, friendship, loneliness, and even sadness. Her books felt like hugs to me.
In high school, I copied her drawings and gave them to friends. I enjoyed reproducing Anglund’s rounded-headed children with two eyes and big cheeks without mouths and noses. Once, I used her illustrations to recreate a girl and a boy pattern, then cut and hand-stitched felt pieces to sew the children on pillow covers with a zipper to store letters in when a boyfriend moved away. It was not long before the letters stopped coming in the mail. I threw my pillow with his letters away, and life moved on.
Another time, my mother gave me a needlepoint kit with an Anglund design. Two children sat together, reading a book bordered with strawberries. I ran out of thread and never finished it before going to college. However, she completed it, made it into a pillow, and gave it to me as a gift.
Anglund’s nurturing imagery and writing resonated with me. I was given other gifts of Anglund books, which were manufactured due to the popular appeal of her art.
I have one of Anglund’s “pocket dolls”; mine is the “The Flower Girl,” copyrighted in 1966 and 1968. The flower girl was pictured in Anglund’s book, “What Color is Love?” The little girl is watering flowers of all colors next to each other. I looked up Anglund’s Pocket Dolls and will tell you, mine is not as pristine as the ones pictured on the Internet. My Flower Girl is made of soft fabric with a big head and a small body holding a faded bouquet. Her straw hat covers her head of yarn hair, is ripped at the stitching, and is wrapped with a faded blue bow and shabby flowers. Her gathered dress, under-slip, and sleeves are sewn with intricate tiny lace as she sits on my studio shelf in a red metal rocker.
I have held onto her for many years because my Flower Girl symbolizes a childhood reflection of an artist who influenced my early artistic leanings.
I learned Joan Walsh Anglund had a strong faith and made time for her daily devotion. She worked in her studio while her children slept into the early morning. Nature was an essential theme in her illustrations, showing children outside. She benefited emotionally from her walks and observation of nature. Anglund lived to be 95 years old, and during an interview taped at the Lexington Library, KY, she said one thing she attributes to her life is being grateful in all situations.
