I have always loved Maurice Sendak. His refusal to pander to his young audience is admirable. His storytelling is haunting, deeply personal...dream like at times but unpretentious. Mostly I'm attracted to his drawings. I can't quite explain why I am so bewitched by his portrayals of childhood. There seem to be themes that course through most of his drawings; loneliness, bravery, monsters, fear, great division between children and grown ups, whimsy, absurdity, boastfulness, tenderness, and rage.
These images are plastered on the wall of my memory. They have helped construct some of my aesthetic aptitude. I consider them to be a part of me, even though I didn't create them. I've somehow internalized the emotion that is present in the stillness of the images. That is the power of Sendak's abilities...there seems to be a quiet yearning in each depiction. Perhaps a striving for empathy, acceptance, rescue, willfulness, or play. Whether this is the intention of his work is irrelevant. It is what I take away...and keep.
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