It’s Picture Book Month: Give the Gift of Wonder


Children are made readers on the laps of their parents —Emilie Buchwald

November is National Picture Book Month. It’s a gentle reminder of the importance of reading printed picture books to the children in our lives. I wish I could tell you what being read to, nestled in my mother’s arms, meant to me, but I didn’t have that kind of mom. What I can impart is the experience of reading to my own kids. It was routine for me to enjoy books with them before they fell asleep. The books I picked out helped them get to know me, and the ones they chose showed me who they were. Our eldest, Rob, was a big fan of Chris Van Allsburg’s The Polar Express. To this day, no one enjoys the magic of Christmas more than him. One of his sister Bridget’s favorite books was Tales for the Perfect Child by Florence Parry Heide. It was funny, and I suspect Bridget identified with the book’s theme of using brain power to outsmart others to get out of doing chores. Our youngest, Brian, was lulled to sleep nearly every night while I read Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon to him. Of course, Good Night Moon was the first book he thought of buying when his son was born. Picture books fueled my children’s capacity to dream and wonder. Pouring over them together was our time to bond.

Isn’t it love that keeps us breathing? Isn’t it love we’re sent here for?—Bonnie Raitt, You

As a young mother, I knew I wanted to illustrate picture books but had no idea one day I would write them too. If I had known that, I would’ve written Love You to the Moon and Back for my kids. Instead, I will be able to read it to my grandchildren. It’s now available on Amazon. Getting the book into print is a dream come true for me. I wrote it so parents and grandparents would have a tangible way to give their little ones a sense of their all encompassing love. It’s message will reassure them throughout their lives. Knowing we are loved is what opens up doors and windows to let the heart fly free. It’s the only lasting gift we can ever give our children.

Love You to the Moon and Back

My daughter-in-law reading “Love you to the Moon and Back” to my grandson

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

The Magic of Creativity

Snuggle Bunny

“Listen to the music inside. Can’t you hear what it says to you?” – Van Morrison

As an artist, I try to honor the muse that guides me. Over time, I’ve gotten better at paying attention and following its lead. Years before I was a grandmother, an idea took residence in my heart. I could clearly see a blue-eyed, blond haired baby, around six months old, being hugged by his mama. Around them were written the words, “Snuggle bunny, you’re my honey.” I neatly folded and tucked this concept away to be brought to life when I had a grandchild.

I became a grandmother for the first time in the spring of 2014. Shortly after my son, Brian, and his wife, Pam, announced they were having a boy, I began my search for the perfect bunny outfit for him to wear in my “Snuggle Bunny” illustration. One thing was certain, I did not want my grandson wearing a costume in which he could be mistaken for a girl. After combing the internet, I came across a darling grey, hooded sweater with bunny ears. Perfect. I was all set to photograph my grandbaby wearing it when the time was right. Now all I had to do was be patient and let the rest of the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

Cameron John Shanahan was welcomed into the world on April 8th. I was over the moon for him. I couldn’t wait for my grandson to be six months old so I could draw him as my “Snuggle Bunny.”

When Cam was around three months old, Pam sent me the most endearing selfie she had taken of them together. In it there was something so enchanting about the look of wonder on my grandchild’s face. They reminded me of sea creatures looking through a porthole. Because Pam is enamored with the ocean, I had envisioned painting a watercolor of her and Cam as mermaids, but not until he was a toddler. Seeing that selfie changed all of that. Bam, my creative juices were flowing now! I began working on a mermaid portrait based on that image. It would be the perfect Christmas present for their little family.

Pam and Cam selfie

Pam and Cam selfie

Meanwhile, on November 17th, our oldest son, Rob, and his wife, Emily, gave birth to our second grandchild, Logan James. My husband and I were overwhelmed with joy. I couldn’t wait to capture our newest grandchild’s essence in a painting. I was certain the perfect scenario to place him in would be revealed after I got to know him.

Humming in the background, was my quest to get the perfect picture of Cameron in the rabbit sweater. He was already past the age I had envisioned for the baby in my bunny illustration. One day in December, I asked his mom to bring the bunny sweater over with Cameron, so I could photograph him in it. I had decided to move forward without having her in the illustration, as she had already been included in the mermaid portrait with her little guy. At one point, I thought that maybe Logan was the baby I’d seen in my mind’s eye, but quickly dismissed the thought. No, I had bought the sweater for Cam before he was even born. I felt bound to my original plan.

After Cameron arrived, I began trying to make him smile for the camera, but he would have none of it. He sat stone-faced as I tried to make him laugh. I gave up. Letting go of my inflexibility opened the door for Logan to come through. I came to the realization that he was the baby I had envisioned all along. With his blue eyes, blond hair and chubbiness, he was the snuggle bunny I had visualized!


Cameron being very unsmiley indeed.

I immediately began making plans to photograph Logan with his mom when he was six months old. I pictured the background of the painting being a wash of yellow— sunny like Logan and Emily. I would ask his mother to wear blue to match Logan’s eyes. Relaxing my grip allowed for the realization that the sweater had to go too. Instead, I found the softest, plushest, bunny-eared bath blanket to wrap Logan’s chubbiness in. I began to “see” him with a carrot rattle in his hand. I googled “carrot rattles” and to my surprise, I easily found one. Finally getting the concept on paper was a full-circle moment for me. The image was a gift that had been given to me to pass on to my son and his family. As I type this, “Snuggle Bunny” is getting matted and framed. It will be wrapped and placed under our tree to be opened by Rob and Emily on Christmas morning. Shhhhhh.

The two photos I taped together to base my art on.

The two photos I taped together to base my portrait on.

“I am not in control of my muse. My muse does all the work.” – Ray Bradbury

I continue to be in awe of the creative process. Bringing forth art works best when I don’t try to force it, but get quiet and listen. The muse always makes its wishes known. Step by step, following its directions never disappoints. Creating a masterpiece from thin air is a simple process. It’s all in the allowing.

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

Bluebirds from Heaven

Looking back at this illustration of Ann and my son Rob, must be where my bluebird connection with her first began.

My 1984 illustration of Ann and my son Rob must be where my bluebird connection with her first began.

“I’m always looking for cosmic rhymes.” – Bono

Today is the anniversary of my younger sister Ann’s death. She died suddenly, of an undetected heart condition on October 9, 2008. It hardy seems possible that she’s been gone for seven years. When she made her transition she left a huge hole in my life. We spoke every day and spent as much time together as we could. The two youngest of unstable parents, we clung to each other growing up. Survivors of a shipwreck of a childhood, there was no one who nurtured and supported my recovery more than her.

Life without Ann was hard. It’s not that I didn’t believe she was in a better place. I just missed our daily connection. I yearned for proof that she was still near me. The summer after she left, my heart ached as I packed for my family’s annual vacation to Martha’s Vineyard. Truthfully, I didn’t much feel like going. A friend had told me about seeing a red cardinal after her father passed in times of trouble or when she missed him. She believed they were sent by her dad to let her know all was well. To give my trip a sense of purpose I asked Ann to send me a bluebird when I was there to let me know she was alright. Although they inhabit the island, I had never seen one. If a bluebird crossed my path while I was there, I decided it would be a sign that she was near.

When we arrived on the island, even its beauty couldn’t fully cheer me up. Everywhere we went my eyes scanned the trees for bluebirds without any luck. When my sister Laura brought me to her friend, folk artist Ashley Medowski’s gallery, I began to rethink the perimeters of how my bluebird would show up. On the gallery wall, with a red sold sticker on it, hung the most enchanting piece of art with a little bluebird on it. It was entitled, The Family Tree. A box with a door, made from a victorian photo album, opened up to a tree. Hanging stairs were attached to it to symbolize our assent to heaven and the rejoining of the loved ones who went before us. Laura knew how much I missed Ann and bought it for me. That gift opened me up to being flexible as to how the bluebird was going to manifest on my trip. Real or fashioned by a human hand, it didn’t matter. I accepted it as an assurance from Ann.

The Family Tree

The Family Tree

Later that week, I went to visit my friend, artist, Margot Datz. She wanted me to see an image she had painted with me in mind. Inspired by the profundity of my loss she had named it, My Blue Heart. I couldn’t believe when I saw a bluebird holding a heart in its beak at the center of its design. Margot knew about my younger sister’s death but not about my quest for bluebird signs. I’ve glossed over many coincidences in my life, but it was hard for me to believe this was just happenstance. It had to come from Ann, through Margot’s paintbrush, to me. Today the painting hangs in my studio next to my drawing table.

My Blue Heart

My Blue Heart

Me with Margo that summer.

Me with Margot that summer.

After I returned from Martha’s Vineyard, bluebirds were on my radar. It seemed like everywhere I looked I saw one and was reminded of Ann. I had let go of any hope of ever seeing a real eastern bluebird in my suburb of Chicago. Like me, no one I knew had ever seen one in our area.

That all changed Sept. 29, 2014. That day I was feeling discouraged about launching my children’s books and said a prayer for help. Not a minute later, I glanced out the window and saw what looked like an eastern bluebird! I couldn’t believe it. I went and grabbed binoculars to make sure it wasn’t just wishful thinking. Looking through them, I could clearly see a small cobalt blue bird with an orange breast eating seeds under our bird feeder. Then, as if to clarify my vision, it flew toward my window and soared away. Ann, one of my biggest supporters, had to let me know that everything was going to be all right.

Of course there is no way to prove my bluebird assurances scientifically. Some may say my sightings are a product of an overactive imagination, but I know what I know. As the years move on, I no longer yearn for Ann like I did. Over time, other relationships in my life have deepened. The hole has been filled. I am at peace. I’ve found that no matter how much faith you have there is always an adjustment period when someone you love dies. Missing their physical presence takes time to come to terms with and be healed.

“Death is just life’s next big adventure.” – J. K. Rowling

Today, I’m happy for Ann. She is still with me, behind the scenes, supporting my journey. I know she is experiencing a world my mind can’t even begin to comprehend. I wish her Godspeed on the new adventures she traverses. She never was one for sitting still.

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

Knowing When to Unfriend a Friend

Troll. ogre, fairy, giant

“When you don’t know when you have been spit on, it does not matter too much what else you think you know.” -Ruth Shays

It’s taken me far too long to comprehend when a friend isn’t truly a friend. I’ve accepted camouflaged, insulting behavior for many years. Being raised by an emotionally abusive mother was a setup to tolerate abuse, however subtle. Her outright cruelty made it hard to recognize covert mistreatment. Growing up that way made me a ready target for people who didn’t honor me. For example, in the past I had a friend who I thought of as a sister. Most times when we were together I felt so understood and supported. Yet there were times when she turned on me, pointing out my flaws “for my own good.” I felt the distinct “ouch” of being stung even though she spoke to me in a benign voice. It was so confusing. At least in dealing with my mom, her delivery left no mistaking that she meant me harm. Digging deep, I saw that even though my friend’s actions were hurtful I was getting something out of them. Part of the gain was the safety of familiarity, but an even bigger part was that it was comfortable for me to play small. Living that way is so undemanding. I got the security of not having to stretch by accepting the role I was assigned to as a child.

Friends who don’t honor you are a reflection of what you believe about yourself. Having the courage to no longer accept another’s unkindness says you’re ready to claim your power. But what if by doing so your bond disintegrates? In the past, I clung to harmful relationships out of the fear of abandonment. Today I know that when I no longer allow myself to be treated poorly, the connection shifts. I may lose a friend. Indeed, that’s exactly what came to pass in my example above. It’s true that when you assert yourself there may be a hole in your life, but not for long. Love abhors a vacuum. By no longer putting up with being treated as “less than,” we make room for real friends to enter. And enter they always do.

One thing is for certain, it’s not my job to figure out why the perpetrator feels the need to put me down. I’ve spent way too much energy analyzing why people do what they do. That somehow made their bad behavior OK and kept me stuck in an unhealthy situation. The watercolor above illustrates this in a fun way. Like with a troll, it’s futile for the fairy to figure out why she angered him. Could it be she was flying too low and disturbed his sleep? Or did he, once upon a time, have his heart broken by a fairy? Perhaps he was raised to believe her kind are just nasty pests. Most likely he was just doing what miserable ogres do when someone gets too close to them. In the end it’s not important what provoked him. All that matters is getting away from him. It’s up to you to keep yourself safe from brutes no matter how nice they appear to be on the surface. Be mindful of your surroundings. Sleepwalkers disturb bees or worse yet, get in the way of trolls. 

Recognizing that I’m the fairy in the painting makes me smile. Even though she has wings, she cowers clearly immobilized. How in the world did she forget that she can fly?

Flying Fairy

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

Five Ways to Step into Freedom

“So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains, and we never even know we have the key ” ~ Already Gone, The Eagles

My family of origin wasn’t the healthiest. My dad, an alcoholic, was married to my mom a beautiful, spoiled woman with narcissistic tendencies. Being raised by that pair was not the optimal foundation for a healthy life. For as long as I can remember, I felt shame about who I was. But buried inside all the emotional abuse I suffered was a gift. That gift was the belief that there was something wrong with me. That conviction is what lead me to seek help. Years of unraveling through self-examination and therapy gave me so much insight. They left me knowing who I was and what I wanted, but I was still afraid to live it. My parents where no longer the key holders of my prison of living small. I was.

Many of us let outside circumstances define us and have dumbed ourselves down in an effort to keep ourselves safe. If you’re ready for more than just surviving life, below are five tips to help you to begin to move forward and live free.

1) The first step to being fully alive is the recognition that you are the one holding yourself back. This is the cornerstone for all the other steps. When you get that at a deep level, you can decide your path to freedom. Whether it’s therapy, a twelve step group or the support of good friends, use the resources that are available.

2)  There is a lot of wisdom in the phrase, “acting as if.” Visualize what it would feel and look like to not hold yourself back. In the words of Dr. Wayne Dyer, “You’ll see it when you believe it.” Then visualize a self-aware confident you throughout the day and before you go to sleep at night.

3) Practice not playing small in one area of your life at a time. One place I really held myself back was in my writing. When I made a pact to speak my truth in my blog, I did that one post at a time. I was surprised and touched that so many readers related with the real me. That helped me to extend speaking my truth in other areas of my life. The thought of living your authentic self in every aspect of your life, all at once, can be overwhelming. Baby steps feel safe and build confidence.

4) Don’t use the words like he, she, it, or they coupled with the phrase, “…made me feel a certain way.” Switch it to, “I allowed them to make me feel that way.” For example change, “She makes me feel bad about myself” to “I allowed her to make me feel bad about myself.” That comes from a place of power not victimhood. After all, we do have choices. When you live as a victim, you’re helping yourself to stay stuck.

5) Get strength from a power greater than yourself. I seriously don’t believe I could have moved past my self-defeating behaviors without that kind of help. Call it grace, or call it God, there is a force for good that can be summoned. Ask.

“The power you give others belongs to you. Take it back and take yourself where you would go.” ~ Alan Cohen

Liberating yourself is empowering but also can bring up some fear. Don’t let it turn you around. It’s just the frightened child surfacing, trying to keep you safe. Taking directions from fear may have actually kept you from harm at one time, but it’s now outlived its usefulness. To break the pattern, observe your feelings but don’t give them any credence. Simply let them pass through you. You are a grown-up now and have the right to experience life to the fullest. By holding yourself back, you deprive the world of an irreplaceable gift….you.

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

12 Ways to Help Remove the Barriers to Self-Love


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“Treat yourself as if you were someone inexpressibly dear to you” – Tweeted by Agapi Stassinopoulos 

Do you live with the chatter of a critical voice in your mind? You know the voice I’m talking about. It drones on in the background scolding your every move. It finds fault with how you look, how you feel and who you are. Like a weed, it wraps around your heart and hinders your growth. I have tried to stop that voice by focusing on it, analyzing its origins, and reasoning it away. The harder I pushed the stronger a hold it had on me until one day I realized the truth about it. The “voice of rebuke” was only trying to keep me safe. At some level, I believed I wasn’t good enough and had to be monitored. I thought fitting into the standards of the world was the only way I would be lovable.

I was born innocent. We all are. We come to this planet unsullied, delighting in ourselves. Unfortunately it doesn’t take long for many of us to lose our way. We turn in self-love for self-loathing. There are many reasons why our perception becomes so skewed. In part, my roadblocks to self-love formed in response to my disapproving mother. An unhappy woman, she pointed out my “wrongness” to me on a daily basis. I carried those beliefs with me into my adulthood. I struggled for years to overcome them until one day I decided to get over it and get on with it. I resolved to set my old way of thinking down and love myself. I found that I could not get of rid my self-contempt by force of will. But it did lose it’s grip and disappear on its own by my living as if I did love myself. If you don’t have what it takes to do that, ask the Universe for help and try the suggestions below.

1) Pay attention to how you speak to yourself. Do you belittle yourself? When I grasped that I had allowed my mother’s voice to live on in my head I quieted it by shifting my focus to thoughts of encouragement and self-appreciation.

2) Take care of yourself physically When I felt under the weather I used to just push through it. If I was too ill to do that, I would beat myself up for being “lazy.” Today I make sure I get enough rest and nourish my body. I’m amazed by how much better l feel when I treat myself like I matter.

3) Do I schedule fun into my life? It seems silly to have to find time for this but people who are hard on themselves rarely prioritize fun. Joy and laughter heal and are important facets of self-love.

4) Am I critical of others? I’ve learned that if I’m hard on others I use the same standard of judgement on myself. The reverse is also true. The more accepting I am of another’s humanity, the more I accepting of my own.

5) Do I forgive others? This can be hard, especially when deliberately cruel behavior is involved. Learning to let go of resentments became a necessity when I realized I hold myself to the same standard as I do others. The easiest way for me to forgive a misdeed is to look at the situation from a higher vantage point. When I see the big picture it’s easier to recognize that most folks are doing all they’re capable of. Even when their actions are directed at me it’s still not personal. Having that mindset doesn’t necessarily mean I spend time with unkind people. Staying out of harm’s way is an aspect of self-love.

6) Do I trust my inner guidance? Trusting your perception is a big way to affirm yourself. Honor your “inner knowing” by being mindful of it. Using the phrase “I should”  is a red flag that means you’re not listening to your heart but trying to fit into someone else’s mold.

7) Mirror work Louise Hay is famous for sharing her “mirror work” technique with the world. Through it people have leaned to love themselves by making a practice of holding a mirror, lookIng into their eyes and affirming, “I love you. I really love you.”  Try it. It works.

8) Learn to accept the love of others. This suggestion is simple but not easy because we’ve been conditioned to believe if we love ourselves we’re conceited. When someone pays you a complement, or gives you a gift, be a gracious receiver. Simply say, “Thank you.”

9) Go where you are valued. Allowing yourself to be disrespected, even in subtle ways, fuels feelings of not being good enough.

10) Write down five things a day that you appreciate about yourself.  They can be a accomplishments, setting a boundary or even how cute your hair looks. Anything positive about yourself is worth including.

11) Don’t suppress your emotions. When you push down your emotions you are in part rejecting yourself. Allow your feelings to surface and flow through you. The more you accept them, the quicker they will pass.

12) Ask yourself, “What would I want someone I love to do in this situation? And then do that.


I in no way mean to imply that I’ve mastered the above list. Sometimes I do fall back into my old ways, but I don’t stay there for long. As soon as I catch myself slipping I shift my focus to the tools above.

I’ve found the more I love myself, the more I allow good things to come to me. Today, instead of trying to make my goals materialize, I just I work on loving myself. Somehow this makes fertile ground for my dreams to bloom in ways I couldn’t have imagined. “Love is the miracle cure and when you are willing to love yourself every area of your life works out better,” explains Louise. This certainly has held true in my life. Isn’t it worth a try in yours?

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

Rescued By a Rescue Dog

Quigley, our funny little cattle dog.

Quigley, our funny little cattle dog.

It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them, and every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough all the components of my heart will be dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are. – Anonymous

Last week it was time to put our Australian Blue Heeler to sleep. It was a difficult decision to make because Quigley was a part of our family. It was hard to imagine life without him. He was approaching 15 and in the past year his health had been steadily declining. It became apparent in his last few days that his body was shutting down. I didn’t want him to experience an ounce of suffering, so I prayed for guidance to know when it was his time to say goodbye. When that knowing came, I talked it over with the vet and made an appointment to bring him in the next day.

As hard as it was to let Quigley go, my husband, Bob, and I knew it was the right thing to do. Quig came to us through a shelter after he had been dumped on a country road. Knowing that he had been abandoned, I vowed to him that I would take care of him. Putting him down was my final way of doing that.

Quigley, on the day we put him down, spelling the flowers one more time.

Quigley, on the day we put him down, smelling the flowers one last time.

Quigley was the best dog we ever had. You don’t realize how much a pet fills your life until you experience the hollow place they leave when they’re gone. Now I yearn for the wonderful, little things about him.

I miss hearing his toenails on the floors.

I miss him laying by my feet.

I miss how he took his leash in his mouth when it was time for a walk.

I miss seeing him run for cover whenever he saw a fly.

I miss how he loved to chase squirrels.

I miss watching him pull my son by the sleeve to the cabinet where the dog treats were kept.

I miss hearing him jump off the couch as I entered the room (he wasn’t allowed on the furniture).

I miss seeing his little mug watching me through the window after I walked out the door.

I missing watching him leap into the air to grab a frisbee mid-flight.

I miss him falling on his back to have his belly scratched.

I miss him bringing in the morning paper.

Quig, always a good sport, let me photograph him for this illustration for my picture book, "Glory in the Morning."

I immortalized Quig in an  illustration in my picture book, “Glory in the Morning.”

I got Quigley to hold this pose by holding a treat up. He would do anything for a cookie.

I got Quigley to hold this pose by holding a treat up.  He would do anything for a cookie.

After Quigley was euthanized, Bob and I were heartbroken. We thought that maybe in a year we’d be ready to get another pet. Our hearts should be mended by then. But without our cattle dog, our house is too quiet.

That evening our son calls to check on me and suggests we get another dog. “Why wait?” he says. “There are so many dogs that need to be loved.” His words convinced me to look up the Australian Cattle Dog Rescue of Illinois. Even though we just put Quigley down a few hours ago, I filled out an on-line application. I thought finding the perfect dog would be a long process, so I’d better get started.

Not too long after hitting send, I received an email from the president of the rescue. She informed me they would be having a dog meet and greet at a Pet Smart not too far from us the next day. She also told me of a red heeler named Maxwell that they had just gotten in.

I decided to go to the meet and greet but not tell Bob. He was so adamant about not getting another dog for awhile. Besides when I saw a photo of Max I felt no connection to him. Shortly after I arrived at the Pet Smart, a lady walked in with the the cutest, little Australian Blue Heeler on a leash. Not Maxwell, another pup. When I went over to pet him, I learned she was his foster caregiver and had brought him for the rescue. When I heard that, I was sure he was our dog. I already loved him. His name is Gary and he is a stray from Ohio. He’s 8 months old, the same age Quig was when he came to us. I knew Gary was a gift. I proceeded to fill out the papers to adopt him. I’ll be able to bring him home in a few weeks after he is neutered and microchipped.

On my ride back home I kept thinking, what have I done? I really should have talked it over with Bob before I adopted another dog. I felt such a sense of urgency to do it though. I knew Gary needed us. He was ours.

That evening I was apprehensive about what Bob’s response would be when I told him about our new pet. And what did the man, who was so certain we should wait to get another dog, say?  “Why didn’t you bring Gary home with you?”

Meet Gary

Meet Gary

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.


Why Worry?

Why Worry?I’ve spent a good amount of my time on Earth fretting.  A defense developed in childhood, worry was my talisman, my rabbit’s foot. I believed it kept me safe. Delving into my spiritual yearning has brought me to a place of openness and questioning.
What if life happens just the way it’s supposed too?
What if everything appears exactly when we need it?
What if inside each problem is a lesson that is a gift to help us navigate through life?
What if following our heart is following God’s guidance?
What if being open to how are longings are realized, leaves God the space to out dream us?
I’ve learned when I’m trusting, and being myself as fully as possible, everything in my life reflects this by falling into place easily, often miraculously.

As usual, the characters in this illustration are based on real children. I got to know Riley and her brother Nick on my walks through our neighborhood with my dog.

DSC_0188.JPG copy

The Sheltie in the art is my nephew Jeff’s puppy, Jake. His ears make him look like he’s ready to take flight.

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

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Don’t Let Go of the Glow


I have a young friend, Andrea, who inspires the heck out of me. One day she told me how happy she was with the direction her life had been going. She said, “Things are going so good, I don’t want to let go of the glow.” Don’t let go of the glow. I really liked that. It’s so easy to let negativity creep in and take over. That’s why it’s important to watch our thoughts and steer them in the direction of gratitude when they begin to get off course.

I’ve learned that I absorb the message of whatever I illustrate  so I promptly rustled up a couple of models (Andrea’s son Adrian being one of them) and got this drawing down on paper. The next week when Andrea mentioned she was intent on “keeping the glow going,” I thought, “oh no, get me some paper. Here we go again.”

*By the way, I am looking for a little asian girl, around age four, (my model in the above art is now too old) to base the “Keep the Glow Going” illustration on. I see her walking along a path carrying a paper lantern. That image has lived in my mind’s eye since I first wrote this post a couple of years ago. If you know of a little one that fits my description, please get in touch with me at

Paper Lantern


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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

Let Freedom Ring for All

Let Freedom Ring

America did not invent human rights.  Human rights invented America. – Jimmy Carter

When the founders of our nation landed on the shores of Cape Cod, it was with the pursuit of religious freedom. All the other truths we’ve fought for since that time, stemmed from this same quest. The belief that no one has the right to define God or how we worship, has opened the door for an all-inclusive loving God to walk through. With no religious dogma, no one is excluded. We are free to be who we are.  In 1955, Rosa Parks claimed that freedom when she refused to move to the back of the bus and began the Civil Rights movement. Eunice Shriver was certain of it when she fought for the rights of people with intellectual disabilities and helped form the Special Olympics.  Last week gay couples felt it when the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage across the country, giving them the identical federal rights as heterosexual couples. It doesn’t matter what we look like, if we are handicapped, or who we love, we are all welcomed into the fold. The Creator delights in us exactly as we are. And why shouldn’t he? We are his handiwork.

I am deeply grateful to be born in the land of liberty. Our freedom is sacred and worth defending. July 4th is a day to celebrate this gift and remember all who have fought and died for it. As fireworks light up the sky, we watch with hands over our hearts, in awe of our servicemen and women. Without them our independence would not exist.

The American dream is not that every man must be level with every other man. The American dream is that every man must be free to become whatever God intends he should become. – Ronald Reagan

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Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.