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What happens when your grandfather’s painted plates start falling off the wall? You keep drawing them. 😂 I’ve now recreated 12 of my grandpa’s acrylic original artworks in soft pastels (see Part 1 and Part 2 in the blog!), and along the way, his art has literally taken me places, from the Hillsboro Inlet Lighthouse to Juno Beach, West Palm Beach, and my first live online session.  Part 3: Re-creating Robert George Etienne's original acrylic painted plates in soft pastels, by Jackie Morreale Honoring Grandpa, Robert George Etienne, by Re-Creating his Art (Part 3): Going Places By Jackie Morreale (00:00) Hi there. My name is Jackie Morreale, and I'm the host of Wisdom for Wannabes. Apparently I have not finished recreating my grandpa's art. I really didn't expect to do a part two. I definitely didn't expect to do a part three. But here we are. Once again, happy 100th heavenly birthday to my grandpa, Robert George Etienne. I moved the installation of Grandpa's painted plates out of my podcast recording studio, to a more permanent location. As I was reinstalling this very tall six by nine-foot-ish installation, plates started falling. Every night, there would be another plate on the floor. Fortunately, they're plastic. First:
I started thinking: Maybe I'm using really cheap tape? Or maybe, I'm meant to keep going with this project?  Morreale, J. (2026, August) Hillsboro Inlet Lighthouse [Pastels on paper]. RE-CREATION 1: STRIPED LIGHTHOUSE The first piece that I created was this lighthouse. I decided to venture to Broward County, and find the Hillsborough Inlet Lighthouse. I found a park across the water with an incredible view, and this amazing two-tone lighthouse. Grandpa's lighthouse had a red and white striped pattern, but this actual lighthouse has this beautiful architectural structure, black in the upper portion and white below, with its cylindrical middle and these supports that come together toward the top. I had my ruler out because there were so many angles and structural lines. I spent more than an hour drawing it. The water on the park side was incredibly peaceful. People were snorkeling. There was beauty above the water and underneath it. It was just one of those perfect days. Then I went back to my car, there was a $45 parking ticket on the front windshield. Apparently there was an art tax for creating this particular drawing. The more you know.  Morreale, J. (2026, August) West Palm Beach Park with waterski lodge [Pastels on paper]. RE-CREATION 2: GAZEBO This second painting brought me back to a park in West Palm Beach that I really love. Grandpa's painting has this beautiful garden and gazebo surrounded by flowers and layers of foliage. I saw this elevated structure beside the lake where people watch waterskiing. I thought it looked reminiscent of this beautiful gazebo that he had done. It's not exactly the same scene as grandpa's. His is more, I think, fantastical, more spring-like. More ornate. Mine had a lake, reflections of palm trees, wildflowers growing right along the water, and layer upon layer of trees. I noticed something that I hadn't noticed or thought about before. The trees don't all look the same in this park, they all have different leaves, different shapes. The shadows were dancing across the path. Very different interpretation from grandpa's painting, but somehow I was able to find magic in both. I think that's one of the things I'm learning through this whole project. We don't have to recreate someone's world exactly. We can take what they loved and find it in our own.  Morreale, J. (2026, August) White Pelican [Pastels on paper]. RE-CREATION 3: PELICAN The third painting was a little bit scarier because I did it live. It was my first live drawing session as part of my new 'Wisdom Wednesdays' live series. Grandpa's Pelican painting is incredibly simple. It's basically a black background with a white pelican. beak and feet are this beautiful yellow-orange. That's almost it. But I found the contrast absolutely genius. The more I drew it, the more I appreciated it. The proportions of the wing, the belly, the head.The curve of the beak, the webbed feet, even the way the individual feathers were suggested on the wing. There was so much going on in such a simple composition. He didn't need a lot, he just needed the right things... and suddenly you have this incredibly striking image. I also think it's funny that I'm so drawn to animals. The same kind of visual simplicity. Maybe some things really do get passed down.  Morreale, J. (2026, August) Sheldon the Loggerhead Sea Turtle in Juno Beach [Pastels on paper]. RE-CREATION 4: SCUBA DIVER & TURTLE Finally, the turtle. This is especially fun because I had a reference of my own. Last year I had seen a loggerhead sea turtle at Loggerhead Marine Life Center. He would come right up to the window and greet people. When I was thinking about how to recreate grandpa's scuba diver and turtle painting, I thought, 'Why not just draw Sheldon?' I drove up to Juno Beach, and drew my own version of Grandpa's sea turtle painting. I had my little Loggerhead turtle stuffed animal with me. It was such a sweet experience. I talked with some of the volunteers. They told me how much they missed Sheldon. He had just gotten released last week! There were other beautiful sea turtles there too. What I really love about this place is that It's a rehabilitation facility. The goal is to care for those animals and then return them back to the ocean. Sitting there drawing a turtle that I've seen in this environment, that was released back into the ocean, made the whole thing feel very connected.  Morreale, J. (2026, August) West Palm Beach Park and Waterski Lodge closeup [Pastels on paper]. ART WILL TAKE YOU PLACES By this point, I started thinking: People say things to kids all the time, like: 'Your sport is going to take you places.' 'Your brains are going to take you places.' Grandpa's art has literally taken me places. This project has taken me to the Hillsboro Inlet Lighthouse. This project has taken me to Juno Beach. This project has also taken me live, completely out of my normal routine. It's gotten me into parks, onto beaches, and into my own imagination. I remembered something else: Grandpa used his art to take himself places, too. He spoke some German after serving in World War II. He would travel to Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. He would sit on a train and look out the window and paint. He told me what he would actually use to mix his paints... his own spit... which might sound disgusting, but also kind of hilarious. He was practical, adventurous, creative, a little quirky, and completely willing to make his own way through the world. So, Grandpa, thank you for leaving behind enough pieces of yourself for us to keep discovering you. Happy heavenly 100th birthday, for the third time. I'll see you when the next plate falls off the wall.  Jackie Morreale with White Pelican in soft pastels and Grandpa Robert George Etienne's original White Pelican acrylic painted plate.  Morreale, J. (2026, August) Sheldon the Loggerhead Sea Turtle in Juno Beach closeup [Pastels on paper].
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On Plein Air Sketching Video Blog Transcript By Jackie Morreale PART I: DRAWING AL FRESCO What if your office was outside? What if instead of sitting at a desk, or sitting on the sidelines of an activity, you could simply draw whatever you see in front of you. That's what plein air sketching has become for me. What's funny is, I never set out to become a landscape artist. In fact, when I started doing this, I wasn't even in Palm Beach County. I was in Austria.  Jackie Morreale with her Austrian Alps sketch in soft pastel, June 2026 SKETCH 1: AUSTRIAN ALPS I was traveling through the Alps, away from my studio. I wanted to make something as a gift for family. I remember looking out at this incredible postcard-like view, the mountains, the folds of terrain, the grass, the trees. The light was disappearing, and it was getting darker and darker by the minute. I had until about nine o'clock before it was going to be pitch black. I remember thinking, 'I don't know how to draw landscapes.' 'It's been so long.' 'I'm probably not very good at this.' But all the stores were closed. It was a Sunday. It was family dinner. I wanted to leave my family with something unique, from me. I thought, 'You know what? I'm just going to draw what I see. No matter how good or bad it is.' That's really where this whole thing started. I stopped worrying about whether I was good at landscapes. I just started looking, layer by layer, top of the sheet to bottom, farthest away to closest to me.
Shapes that could be blocked by colors, where the natural lines are composed on the page. I cared about making something beautiful for the people that I love. Somewhere during that drawing, I realized maybe this way of making art actually works. Maybe I don't have to know exactly what I'm doing. Maybe I just have to pay attention. I've carried that lesson into every plein air sketch that I have done since. When I came back home to Palm Beach County, plein air sketching became something completely different. It became my favorite kind of office. I worked from home now for almost 10 years, and sometimes, I just need a change of scenery. With plein air sketching, my office is outside. I never know what I'm going to find when I get there. I always come home feeling better. Feels like art therapy.  Morreale, J. (2026, June) Sunlight through the Pine Trees [Pastels on paper]. SKETCH 2: LIGHT THROUGH THE PINE TREES The first plein air art sketch that I did back here in Palm Beach County happened while I was with my daughter, at swim practice. I was going to be sitting there for an hour and a half, so I thought, 'Why not take my pastels and my sketchpad and find something to draw?' I walked around the pool looking for a table and something interesting to draw. I found these palm trees, pine trees, and pine cones scattered across the ground next to a table. Nothing particularly extraordinary except for the light. There was this beautiful sunlight coming through the trees that just illuminated the entire scene. It almost felt divine. I sat down and I started drawing. I worked from the front to the back. This is why I love plein air sketching, because all of a sudden in Florida it could be raining when you start doing a speech outside. Let me take this inside... --- PART II: BACK IN THE STUDIO Inside. Out of the rain, talking about plein air sketching. Back to my story. I sat down and started drawing, layers of trees, the bark, the pine cones in the soft green grasses, and that beautiful light coming through everything. That's when I really started to understand something about plein air. You don't have to find an extraordinary place to make an extraordinary experience. You just have to look closely at an ordinary place, like some trees at a park next to a swimming pool.  Morreale, J. (2026, July) Mango Tree with Ripe Mangoes [Pastels on paper]. SKETCH 3: MANGO TREE We have this little mango tree that just started producing fruit. That in itself feels special. My daughter loves to cook. She loves making mango salsa. I wanted to capture the mangoes while they were ripe and ready to eat. I love drawing fruit because it gives your eyes something to focus on. I'll admit I did take one of the mangoes and put it on the ground, because I wanted the painting to communicate: They're ready to pick, they're ready to eat. Of course, after I drew them, we harvested them and made mango salsa. That drawing became part of an actual family experience. Literally tree to table. That's another thing I love about plein air sketching. The drawing isn't just the finished piece, it's the memory attached to it. While I was drawing, ducks came swimming over, my dog was sitting next to me. Family was all around. Suddenly this little mango tree became an entire story, an entire experience.  Morreale, J. (2026, July) Everglades with water lilies and butterflies [Pastels on paper]. SKETCH 4: EVERGLADES Let's talk about the Everglades. This one was hot. There are some days in Florida where you step outside and there is absolutely no breeze. This was one of those days. I found this swampy grassland area with a little boardwalk bridge and a bench next to it and just started looking. The more I looked, the more I saw. Layers upon layers of grasses, different colors and kinds of trees, different shades of green throughout. Then the water lilies right there on the surface, white water lilies. And butterflies, these tiny orange butterflies, everywhere right next to my feet. I probably wouldn't have noticed all those things if I hadn't been sitting there trying to draw the landscape. That is one of my favorite things about making plein air art. It forces you to pay attention. The landscape didn't necessarily change. I changed because I was looking at it differently with the intention of capturing the beauty of it.  Morreale, J. (2026, July) Jupiter Lighthouse [Pastels on paper]. SKETCH 5: JUPITER LIGHTHOUSE I wanted to draw an iconic Florida landmark, the Jupiter Lighthouse. This is one of my favorite places in Palm Beach County. As I sat down to draw that lighthouse, I had one thought running through my head: 'Don't mess it up!' because this time the focal point is super obvious. The lighthouse is rising right out of the trees and bushes. There were boats in the water too. Boats are interesting because they don't wait for you to draw them. You really have to look, and you have to draw quickly. Nature doesn't pause for you while you're drawing it.  Morreale, J. (2026, July) Worth Avenue Clock Tower [Pastels on paper]. SKETCH 6: WORTH AVENUE CLOCK TOWER, PALM BEACH Then it came to another iconic Palm Beach landmark, the Worth Avenue Clock Tower. I went early because this is one of those places where there's almost always somebody taking pictures. Graduations, tourists, families, people just trying to capture this beautiful view that is the Worth Avenue Clock Tower. The ocean behind the clock tower looks like a postcard. I sat down next to the clock tower with my sketchpad on my lap and started working. Again, 'Don't mess this up!' because everybody knows what this landmark looks like. I focused on the light reflecting off the architecture, the foliage around the tower. While I was drawing, people started stopping. Stopped to look. Asked what I was drawing. That's one of the unexpected gifts of drawing in public. You think you're going to sit alone and quickly and quietly make art, but people become part of the experience.  Morreale, J. (2026, July) Lake Worth Beach by the Pier [Pastels on paper]. SKETCH 7: LAKE WORTH PIER Then there's Lake Worth Pier and Beach. There's always something happening. I couldn't find a place to sit except under a covered area next to a group. I thought, 'Okay, This is where I'm drawing today.' What happened next was so much fun. Even though I had my headphones on and my head very much down, almost everyone in the group came over to talk to me. They wanted to see what I was doing, they wanted to see what I was making. They told me about family members who were artists. They asked me questions. Suddenly, this very quiet, antisocial activity of drawing became incredibly social. It's probably not the most detailed drawing that I've ever done, but that's okay because that really wasn't the point. The point was the experience.  Morreale, J. (2026, July 18) Boynton Beach Everglades with Bird [Pastels on paper]. Part III: ON PLEIN AIR SKETCHING After doing all of these plein air sketches, I realized that I am not trying to make photographs. I don't want my drawings to look exactly like the scene in front of me. They're more like time stamps. Just like my blog posts, just like my interviews, they are a record of that particular moment in time or my interpretation of it. Where I was, what I saw, what caught my attention. Maybe most importantly how I felt in that moment. That is what makes each drawing different. The Everglades drawing isn't just the Everglades. It's butterflies and water lilies. The mango tree isn't just the mango tree. It's my daughter's mango salsa. The lighthouse isn't just a lighthouse. It's a place my family loves. This Worth Avenue clock tower isn't just a clock tower. It's runners, it's workers, and it's people taking pictures. There's another lesson in all of this. I've been sharing my artwork publicly and that has been its own exercise in bravery. For a long time I worried, 'What if people look over my shoulder?' 'What if they don't think I'm good enough?' But the funny thing is, people do not seem to care about whether or not it's perfect. In my experience, they just want to see what you're making. They want to tell you about their own artists and the places that they love. And sometimes they just say, 'That's beautiful.' Because the whole experience is pretty beautiful.  Morreale, J. (2026, July 5) Lake Worth Bryant Park intercoastal view with tropical dart frog, inspired by Grandpa's original acrylic art [Pastels on paper]. ART CHALLENGE: So if you have ever said, 'Somebody I know likes to draw.' Or maybe you've thought, 'I'd love to try that.' Here is my challenge: Next time you go somewhere beautiful or even somewhere completely ordinary, take a pencil, take some crayons, or that old camera, or even an app on your phone that lets you draw. Just draw what you see. You don't have to be good. You don't even have to finish. And you don't have to show it to anybody. I drew for a very long time without showing it to anybody. Just look, really look. It gets you out of your own head. It gets you outside. Most importantly, it gets you to notice the beauty that is around you. That is what plein air sketching has done for me. It started in the Alps, because I needed to make a family gift, and somehow it became one of my favorite things to do. So now my office is outside. I never know what I'm going to see. I never know who I'm going to meet. I never know what little detail is going to catch my eye. Maybe even the beauty of rain. I can't think of a better day at the office. I'm Jackie Morreale, host of Wisdom for Wannabes. This is not only wisdom that I have learned, but this is my little love letter to plein air sketching. Thank you for coming along. Can't wait to see what you make.
Sometimes the best vacations aren't the ones that take us far from home; they're the ones that remind us how much wonder has been waiting nearby all along. In this Wisdom for Wannabes blog voice note reflection, Jackie Morreale shares one of her favorite days of the summer: a family paddleboard adventure from Phil Foster Park to Peanut Island in Palm Beach County. What started as a simple staycation became an unforgettable journey filled with stingrays, tropical fish, sandbars, houseboats, unexpected kindness, one spectacular wipeout, and a reminder that life rarely follows the straight line shown on a map. The episode concludes with a 2-Minute Imagination Exercise: Your Seaside Odyssey, inviting you to picture your own island and reflect on the adventure you've been waiting to begin. Favorite Quotes: - "The map shows a straight line. Life rarely does." - "Sometimes the easiest way forward isn't paddling harder. Sometimes it's simply realizing that you can stand." - "We weren't really paddling to Peanut Island. We were practicing what it feels like to begin something we've never done before." - "Sometimes staycations are the best vacations." - "The greatest adventures begin with one simple question: 'Do you think we can make it?'"  Jackie Morreale with snorkel gear on her Peanut Island Odyssey
Peanut Island Odyssey By Jackie Morreale I would love to tell you about one of my favorite days of summer. We're not talking about an expensive vacation. It wasn't a cruise, although there was water involved. It was a staycation that turned into an Odyssey. Our mission was simple: Take one very well-loved paddleboard from under the bridge to another island in Palm Beach County, which called Peanut Island. Our paddleboard has seen better days. It's teal, as you can see, probably about four or five years old. Every foam pad on top of it is peeling from years of adventures. We strapped two dry bags onto the front of the board, one with food and drinks, the other one had towels, goggles, and snorkels. We made one promise before we left: 'Let's try our best not to flip the paddleboard.' Which, if you've ever tried balancing two children - one being an energetic little boy who loves doing backflips, and one adventurous daughter - two dry bags, and one determined mom on a single paddleboard, it is a pretty ambitious goal. The adventure started before we even touched the water. We carried the inflated board toward the beach until a lifeguard stopped us. 'You can't launch here,' we heard. Launch. It was such a funny word for putting a paddleboard into the water. It kind of makes you feel like you're preparing for an official boat launch, or maybe even a spaceship. So we carried our little spaceship further down the beach, past the snorkelers, past the white buoys, until we finally reached a place where we were allowed to begin. The moment we climbed aboard, all three of us, stable on one paddleboard, someone snorkeling nearby looked up at us and casually pointed beneath our board. He said, 'There are stingrays under you.' There they were. Just gliding. Quietly sharing the water with us. Nobody panicked, we simply smiled and kept paddling. Soon we reached the boating channel. The current was against us, and boats were moving through at 5mph. The three of us were moving considerably slower than 5mph. It felt like every paddle stroke gained only inches across this boating channel. One small motorboat slowed down and patiently waited for us to cross, which felt like forever. But that simple act of kindness somehow made me even more determined. Eventually we reached the houseboats. Not boats that look like boats, boats that looked like actual houses, little floating neighborhoods with windows, tiny boards tied beside them. Then something unexpected happened: The water became so shallow we could simply step off the paddleboard.
The water was crystal clear, warm, and turquoise. We walked in two feet of water. We laughed. We pulled the paddleboard across the sandbar together. And we found that sometimes the easiest way forward isn't paddling harder. Sometimes it's simply realizing that you can stand. When the water deepened again, we climbed back onto the board one by one without tipping it over. Back into the current. Back toward the island. Back on our mission. I paddled. My daughter used her hands behind me like an extra engine. My son jumped into the water and kicked underneath the board, to become our motor. Everyone helped. By the time the beach was finally in clear sight, we were exhausted. So we started counting. It was 41 more strokes. Forty more strokes... Thirty more... Twenty... Ten. And finally, the nose of the paddleboard touched the sand on this beach that is Peanut Island. Our Odyssey mission was complete! After an hour and a half, we had made it. The dry bags had stayed dry, and we went exploring underwater.  Mission complete! We made it to Peanut Island on the paddleboard. We drifted past needlefish. We floated beside boats that had arrived there the normal way: with motors. We reached the rocks near the inlet. It felt like swimming into another world. Schools of angelfish, clown fish, bright tropical fish of every shape. A lone barracuda quietly passing by. And my personal favorite, the blue-green parrot fish. So beautiful. Their scales shimmered with every color of the sea as they happily munched on sargassum floating nearby. The same seaweed that people, including me, complain about on the beach at this time of year, was a feast for them. It's funny how perspective changes everything. Around 6:30pm we looked at each other and realized: If it took us an hour and a half to get here, we should probably head back home. The return trip began slowly, really slowly. was paddling as hard as I could while my legs dangled in the water and we barely moved. Then another paddle border glided effortlessly past us, standing, relaxed, looking like she hadn't even broken a sweat. So I called out, 'How are you going so fast?' She smiled and said, 'Pull your feet out of the water.' I folded my legs on the board very carefully as to not rock the boat, literally. Suddenly we were flying! Well, flying for us. We moved pretty quickly. We stopped for pictures on the sandbar. We were brave enough to take out my phone and laughed and did cartwheels and had a blast. It was beautiful. We were back in the two feet of water sandbar paradise. A sunset painted the sky. We could see the beach under the bridge just ahead. Everything felt easy. Only 30 minutes of rowing this time. The current was with us. But maybe... too easy. As we approached the final channel, I folded my legs back into that same position, boarding the boat as to not rock it with all three of us and the two dry bags, which are still dry.  Back on the sandbar! Right before... Then... wipe out! All three of us tipped over. Our two dry bags, now suspended completely upside down by these things, were half in the water. A mask floated away, snorkels drifted. It was chaos. My incredible kids went into rescue mode immediately, swimming their hearts out, treading water, pushing the paddleboard upright with all their might, retrieving everything that floated away. We didn't lose a thing, although the dry bags were definitely not dry anymore. I refused to check on the electronics until we were safely back. When we finally reached the shore, it ended up that the key worked, the phone worked. Everything was heavy. Everything smelled like seawater. Our souvenir from our Peanut Island Odyssey, and somehow everything was perfect. We just had an island adventure. Later that evening after packing away the blow up paddleboard and rewarding ourselves with giant ice cream sundaes, I looked at a map and I realized something: From the park under the bridge to Peanut Island is less than a mile as the pelican flies. It doesn't look very far, but maps don't show:
The map shows a straight line. And life rarely does. Sometimes we look at someone else's success and think, 'Well, they only had to go a mile.' Maybe. But we have no idea what currents they paddled against. Looking back, I realized we weren't really paddling to Peanut Island. We were practicing what it feels like to begin something we've never done before.
Maybe that's how every worthwhile adventure works. 2-Minute Imagination Exercise: Your Seaside OdysseyToday I'd love to invite you on your own 'mental' seaside journey. Close your eyes. Imagine warm sand beneath your feet. Hear the rhythm of gentle waves rolling onto the shore. Feel the warmth of the sun on your shoulders and a soft ocean breeze across your face. In front of you waits a paddleboard. Maybe it's brand new. Maybe it's scratched. Maybe it's exactly the one you're carrying through life right now. It's enough. Take one deep breath. And step onto the board. Feel it gently rock beneath you and begin paddling toward your own island. A dream you've put off. A painting you're looking to create. A book waiting to be written. A conversation you've needed to have. A healthier version of yourself. As you paddle, notice the current. Instead of fighting it, simply keep taking the next stroke. Notice what appears along the way. Perhaps a stingray glides peacefully beneath you. Bright tropical fish remind you that beauty often hides below the surface. A stranger offers exactly the advice that you needed to hear. A gentle breeze reminds you that you don't have to do everything alone. And if somewhere along your journey, you fall into the water... Smile. Sometimes it becomes your favorite part of the story. Now imagine arriving at your island. Step onto the warm sand. Take a deep breath. And look around. Notice what you've discovered, not just about this place, but about yourself. Sometimes staycations are the best vacations. Sometimes, the greatest adventures begin with an old paddleboard, two kids, two dry bags, and one simple question: 'Do you think we can make it?' That's all an Odyssey really is. Have a wonderful day!  Morreale Peanut Island Snorkel Crew Little Puppy, Big Heart: The Story Behind Yin-Yang the Brave, Children's Book by Jackie Morreale6/4/2026
Worldwide Book Tour, Yin-Yang the Brave
Video Transcript Jackie Morreale My name is Jackie Morreale, and I am the host of Wisdom for Wannabes, the podcast that seeks wise words in business, beauty and betterment. I am joined by two of my favorite people, my co-illustrator on Princess Tessa & Luc the Duke: The Furry Christmas Miracle, Natalia Morreale, who is also my daughter, my very talented daughter, and our fur-baby, Lily Morreale. Natalia Morreale That's me! (in her doggie voice) Jackie Morreale AKA Yin-Yang the Brave. We are very excited to share my sixth story for children, which is a brand-new series called 'Voices in Wonder.' This is a story inspired by our real life Bichonpoo puppy. Natalia Morreale 'It's me, guys.' Jackie Morreale Lily and an old box of pastels that turned into this wall of illustrations behind us. Natalia, will you help me read through this story so that our listeners can hear what it's all about? Natalia Morreale Yes. Jackie Morreale Okay. It is called, Yin-Yang the Brave: A Puppy's Tale of Finding Home, by Jackie Morreale. This is book one in the Voices in Wonder series. Dedication page. This and every book that I have and will ever write is dedicated to my family, who inspire me every single day, and our fur-baby Lily. Natalia Morreale 'It's me.' Jackie Morreale To Morena Mollina for your many words of encouragement. To Gary Fails for your thoughtfulness, creativity, and keen eye for editing. To Keith Gamache for decades of art education and inspiration. 'To make good art,' he says, 'you have to think, look, and care.' Thank you for that. To dog lovers from all over the world who know that providing a 'fur'-ever home, no matter how much yin there is to their yang, comes back to you tenfold in love. Shall we start? Natalia Morreale Yes. Jackie Morreale Page 1: Her day begins like any other. Small, quiet, waiting. The puppy watches the world from her window. Natalia Morreale Page 2: White paper covers the floor. Other puppies sleep, jump, play, or pout. But this puppy is the smallest one of them. Jackie Morreale Page 3: Every day, she waits. Hoping someone will choose her. Maybe today will be the day. Natalia Morreale Page 4: A little boy walks up to the glass. His smile is bright, his eyes are warm. He looks at the tiny puppy, curious. Jackie Morreale Page 5: Then a little girl arrives. She presses her fingers to the glass. The puppy lifts her tiny paws. Natalia Morreale Page 6: Pick me. Pick me. PICK ME! Her whole body wiggles with hope. Her paw reveal her purpose. Jackie Morreale Page 7: A woman lifts the puppy into a small pen. The girl skips closer. The boy follows. He, like the puppy, is quiet and cautious at first. Natalia Morreale Page 8: Then the puppy explores the pen, especially the shoelaces. They're perfect for tugging! Jackie Morreale Page 9: The boy jumps back. The puppy tugs harder. 'Oh!' the girl laughs, gently lifting her away. Natalia Morreale Page 10: A black box appears. 'Say cheese!' says the mom. The puppy panics, squirms in the girl's arms, and howls. Yip yip! She's taken away. Jackie Morreale Page 11: Then the fun is over. The girl waves goodbye. The puppy is back in her window. Natalia Morreale Page 12: The room grows quiet. The tiny puppy rests her head. She dreams of love. Jackie Morreale Page 13: Time passes. The sun moves slowly across the sky. The puppy curls up and closes her eyes. Natalia Morreale Page 14: A tiny bell jingles. Jackie Morreale Page 15: They're back! The girl, the boy. Fingers meet paws on the glass again. Natalia Morreale Page 16: Pick me, Pick me! Puppy-please! This time, the puppy rolls over. She shows her belly, full of trust. Jackie Morreale Page 17: 'Let's call her Yin-yang,' says the girl. 'Yinny for short,' says the boy. 'Because she's silly and sweet,' laughs the dad. Natalia Morreale Page 18: Yin-yang. Like day and night. Cocoa and cream. A perfect balance. Jackie Morreale Page 19: Yinny goes home. She has a name. A family. Natalia Morreale Page 20: A heart full of love. But learning a new world… takes time. Jackie Morreale Page 21: Yinny slips through the fence. Adventure calls! She dashes into neighbors' yards. Natalia Morreale Page 22: When her family runs after her, she thinks it's a game. Catch me if you can! Jackie Morreale Page 23: She chases frogs by the lake. She barks at big dogs on walks. She rolls at things that smell… very, very bad. Natalia Morreale Can we stop real quick? Yes. I just wanted to say, this is my favorite page. Jackie Morreale This one? Aw. Natalia Morreale Page 24: Yinny is having the best time. But her family feels frustrated. Out of balance. Jackie Morreale Page 25: Inside, she begs for food. She leaves little puddles where she shouldn't. Natalia Morreale Page 26: She nips while Dad tries to brush her teeth. At night, her tiny paws scratch as her special girl dreams. Jackie Morreale Page 27: 'Oh no,' says Dad. The girl's eyes filled with tears. The mom sighs softly. The boy hides. (Continued below)  Natalia Morreale and Jackie Morreale introduce the new Yin-Yang the Brave book for children (clip at 9 minutes 45 seconds). Natalia Morreale Why does he hide? Jackie Morreale Because he's afraid and he's sad. Natalia Morreale Of Yinny? Jackie Morreale Yeah. She's sorry, look at those eyes. This is my favorite. These are the puppy-dog eyes, my favorite. Natalia Morreale Page 28: Yinny sits still. She wants to behave. She just doesn't know how. Not yet. Jackie Morreale Page 29: Yinny is learning. Her girl teaches her to sit. Her dad teaches her to stay. Natalia Morreale Page 30: Her mom teaches her to come. Her boy teaches her to fetch. It's not instant. It is not perfect. Jackie Morreale Page 31: Sometimes she wiggles. Sometimes she forgets. But little by little... Natalia Morreale Page 32: They understand each other. The family is learning to speak Yinny. Yinny is learning her place in the family. Jackie Morreale Page 33: One day, Yinny hears it. Tiny footsteps. Rustling in the yard. Natalia Morreale Page 34: She pauses. Stay. She remembers. Her body stills… but her ears listen. Jackie Morreale Page 35: Then – Bark. Bark. BARK! She runs to the yard, focused and sure. Natalia Morreale Page 36: 'Blank' scatters across the yard… Jackie Morreale What do you think is there? What did she find? Natalia Morreale Well, if you want, you can buy the book. You can find it on Amazon. Jackie Morreale I want to skip to the end of the exciting story of Yin-Yang the Brave. I'd love to share a little bit about the real-life dog who inspired the Yinny character in the story. Natalia Morreale It's me, guys, I'm right here. It's nice meeting you, by the way. (in a doggie voice) Jackie Morreale Yes, this is our real-life doggie Lily. What kind of breed is she? Natalia Morreale She's a Bichonpoo, a mix of a Bichon Frise and a Toy Poodle. Jackie Morreale Yes. Not all Bichonpoos look the same. Some are white, tan, black, black, apricot, gray. She is a perfect blend of white and black, and curly all over. Yinny may weigh less than ten pounds, but her personality feels much bigger! She loves to play. Natalia Morreale I love playing. Jackie Morreale She loves to 'chat' and spend time with people. She's happiest curled up in someone's lap or exploring outside. Natalia Morreale I love outside. Jackie Morreale What's one of her funniest talents? Natalia Morreale I heard that Bichon Frises could be dogs in the circus. She could stand on her back two legs and hop around. Jackie Morreale Yes, while she's hoping for table food. Natalia Morreale She knows how to get up. She can spin sometimes, while she's on her hind leg, she can spin. Jackie Morreale Yes, she's very talented. This book was made with so much love and inspired by our own family's adventures with our dog. However, it is not a dog training guide. This story is shaped by observation, imagination, and and everyday moments with our very expressive little Bichonpoo. Let's talk about the meaning of yin-yang. In many cultures, yin and yang represent how opposites work together - yin being the dark, yang being the light. Dark and light, loud and quiet. Playful, calm. Independent, together. At first, Yinny is curious, barky, and sometimes even chaotic, but she's also very loving, gentle, and deeply connected to her family. The look and find. The bonus is how many Yin-yang symbols are there in the book? From cover to cover. Check paws, collars, and clouds. You'll also have to see if the rendering of Lily's real-life paw, used in a story to look like a yin-yang, does look like a yin-yang. I want to talk to all my young artists out there. I believe that every single one of us is an artist on the inside, one way or another. To prove it, I want to share how Yin-Yang the Brave came to life in the art that you see behind. These are the actual pages in the book. I've had the same box of pastels in my possession, these soft pastels... Since about high school? Yes, so 20 years. They were very well-loved back in that day, but sat unused. Then, a year ago, I decided to make a small change: Drawing for five minutes a day. That old box of pastels, mostly broken, tiny itty bitty little pieces of my favorite colors, found its way back into my hands and became the pages that you see behind me. I found inspiration in animals almost every day, and many days it was Lily. Our Miss Yinny over here was finding her own voice in the story, so was I, as a storyteller, as an author, as a podcast host for this show, Wisdom for Wannabes, in the past year. And it all started with sketching ideas daily with these old beat-up soft pastels. We end the book with a creative challenge. If you had to come up with your favorite animal, and come up with some way, some superpower, a way in which they save the day, what would it be? Natalia Morreale This is hard because my favorite animal is a seahorse. Jackie Morreale Hmm. Seahorses are tiny but mighty, just like someone else that I know. Natalia Morreale Seahorses don't have arms. They have a tail. The tail could wrap around, helping stuff hold on tight. If I had to write a book... Everyone doubted the seahorse, saying it's not strong. Then, there was a big, big wave and everyone was going to wipe out. The seahorse grabs on to everyone and also grabs on to the thing and saves them! Together, they make a chain! Jackie Morreale Oh, my goodness, you just wrote the next book in this series. The Brave Little Seahorse that Chains Together. So excited. Thank you so much for reading this new book for the Voices in Wonder series. What do you think young readers will love most? Natalia Morreale The fact that it's a dog. Jackie Morreale The fact that it's a dog. Do you think they should read it with their favorite stuffed animal or pet? Natalia Morreale Yeah. If you have a fish, don't take your fish out of the tank. Jackie Morreale True! Thank you so much for your time. Can't wait to hear your feedback on my new book, Yin-Yang the Brave, A Puppy's Tale of Finding Home. Have a great day! Give your doggie a hug.  Jackie Morreale with her illustrations for her newest children's book, Yin-Yang the Brave: A Puppy's Tale of Finding Home. |
Jackie MorrealeJackie writes from her own experiences and reflections on her journey in seeking wisdom, creativity, spirituality, and life in general. This is "putting thyself out there" at its finest. 
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