I’ve been drawing since I was a kid. But I never knew anyone, outside of my teachers, who was an artist.

When Teenage-Me started to think about what to study in college that would eventually become my career, I thought my choice should be practical. “You need a steady paycheck,” my dad would say. Being an artist as a job wasn’t on my radar. It sounded… a little (or a lot) insane. How would I pay my rent?

Enter: graphic design. This magical profession that I didn’t know much about seemed to tick off all the right boxes. Can I get a “real” job? Check. Can I use my creative skills? Check. Can I work in a cool office in NYC? Check. Sounded like a winner! I put down my drawing pencils and spent the next 20 years of my career on design teams in publishing and at digital startup companies. I started out at Time Warner Trade Publishing (now defunct), then moved to iVillage (also RIP), and, most recently, The Knot (still kickin’, though with a different name).

I loved the web start-up culture and learning from my entrepreneurial bosses. It’s like we were living in TV’s Shark Tank before it was a thing! I gravitated to the scrappy energy of having to wear different hats and learn on the fly. Something important would need to be done, and there were no “experts.” Just volunteers. None of us really knew what we were doing, but, we worked hard and we figured it out. We became experts as we built things from the ground up. It was exciting and inspiring!

Over the years, my role evolved to something more managerial. I loved mentoring a team of designers into the ‘little in-house agency that could’. But after nearly 10 years in tech, digital design work lost a little bit of ‘something’ for me. Websites and apps were useful, but they were also fleeting. Technology moves fast! Re-launches were constant, and, while great for enhancing the products for our customers, I looked back on my portfolio of work feeling like much of it didn’t even exist anymore. I became obsessively driven to make something lasting and tactile I could hold in my hands. 

Starting a side project is what re-introduced me to fearless Baby Lori, Kindergarten Artist.

On the off-hours outside of my day job, I dusted off my old drawing pencils. I experimented, took classes, and made drawings every moment I was not designing apps… and it was pure joy. This led to an obsession with making a children’s book, except I had no idea how to do that!

By day, I was still working on websites, marketing, and managing a team of designers. At night and on weekends, I took children’s publishing courses, befriended picture book people, and attended workshops. And, oh yeah, I also had a husband and two small kids to deal with. No biggie! One of the workshops that seemed quite compelling to attend was a “Picture Book Bootcamp” at Highlights Foundation in Honesdale, PA. (Yes, this is the same Highlights that all the 80s babies will remember from the dentist’s office!) The workshop would be run by renowned authors and illustrators, and I’d have the opportunity to present my work to editors and art directors from big publishers. This was a HUGE opportunity, and I knew it. But I almost didn’t attend Highlights due to the cost—it was $1,600. Ouch!

The day after I discovered the existence of this workshop, the universe sent me a little sign. We were notified at my day job that, somehow, we all over-contributed to our 401K accounts, and that refund checks would be sent to us. The amount I was due from this clerical error? $1,600. Highlights, here I come.

Attending the Highlights workshop is what changed my entire trajectory.

I channeled my hard work, hustle, and “figure it out” energy into putting together a book dummy and developing a portfolio. That book dummy was the one I shared at Highlights, and it ultimately led to my first contract at Simon & Schuster. The editor who acquired it was not even one of the publishing pros who was at Highlights. My workshop teacher, author-illustrator Pat Cummings, saw potential in my work and, weeks later, passed it along to industry people she thought might be interested. It was a quite a lesson in ‘putting yourself out there,’ because you never know when it will come back around to you.

I took all of this as a sign (thanks again, universe!) that I was meant to move in a new direction. So, at age 39, with two kids, a NYC mortgage, and a dream, I left my practical design job with a steady paycheck* to chase a rainbow.  *Dad wasn’t totally wrong here, if I’m being honest. We also don’t talk enough about spouses and partners, and how their emotional and financial support make transitions like this possible. Mine did.

Fast forward to now: I’ve had a freelance design career, published nine picture books with the biggest names in publishing, and my work has expanded to include ink and watercolor paintings, including my popular Instagram project, View From My Run, featured in Runner’s World and by New York Road Runners.

I work out of my home studio in Brooklyn, where I live with my family and my feline princess, Mona.