JOYCE'S STORY

There was a lady who lived at the end of our street when I was little who hardly ever said a word. If we played ball, rode our bikes, or made any kind of noise, she would slowly walk down her path and stand at the gate.

I don’t remember her name now, but when I started creating this drawing, she came back into my mind. It was the look, the watchful stare that said, “I have my eye on you, so be careful.”

So I called her Joyce because it seemed to suit her perfectly. She has that lovable but strong character that says, “Yes, I know I still have my rollers in, but who cares!”

I like to think that every animal I draw develops its own personality as the picture grows. Sometimes they remind me of people I once knew, and sometimes they surprise me completely. Finding their character is all part of the story they tell, and Joyce quickly became one of those characters who seemed to know exactly who she was.

Perhaps we all knew a Joyce growing up. Someone who always appeared stern and watchful, but who, in their own way, became part of the memories that made our neighbourhood feel like home.