Helena Clare Pittman

In her 48th post, Helena shares a chapter from her favorite of her original works, Ruthie Pincus of Brooklyn.

Helena offers some poetic “impressions” from her daily journaling practice, plus a requested and imagined end to the two-part monkey story from March and May.

Helena shares an original story about a boy who comes into his own through his relationship with a prize-winning but stubborn cow.

In her 44th post, Helena Clare Pittman tells the second part of her March story of adolescent rebellion.

In her 40th post, Helena shares another original children’s story—a counting story—and creative process behind both writing and illustrating it.

I am still painting flowers in glasses. Different destinies. Different kinds of artists, people. Maybe stars. But it was a privilege to see, in a kind of secret act, that lovely little painting...

Soft-edged and dreamy, on a deeper brown neutral ground, so that the beauty of orange, with its green tones and reds, its yellows and lavender grays, is revealed. The image captivated me...

I often mention to students what I call “The Writer’s Palette.” I call it that because I was a painter before I wrote. Most of my parallels come from painting...

We step onto firm ground when Marilyn gets to the thing that is waiting, underneath everything she says, the thing she can't forget. Right there, in the middle of the air, we're standing on something solid.

When I had my own children I moved to Long Island. In the summer, I felt nostalgia, trapped in the airless frenzy of traffic, the earth paved over, asphalt heat waves, car exhaust. I dreamed of moving to the country, but didn’t see how I could uproot. I wished it would happen miraculously. Then it did.