At the end of last year I compiled a little stop-motion flip-through of a sketchbook I infrequently visited throughout 2017. It really got me thinking about how much time goes into filling a little book that takes only moments to browse through. And it also made me realise that after my first year of full-time freelancing, that time – which the book required so much of – has become very rare and precious. 

So, with all the renewed vigour of any good human in January, I'm trying to spend at least a half-hour each morning working on personal projects or in sketchbooks, just warming up, recording ideas, and drawing for the hell of it. That is, until I decide that that half-hour is better spent exercising, playing the banjo or drinking coffee in quiet contemplation...

Pony Gold 'Follow the Moon' wall calendar (pictured above are US/Canada northern hemisphere and Aus/NZ southern hemisphere variants). 

Since I've moved back to the farm, I've become increasingly aware of the moon. Maybe it's the big windows – in Melbourne, our house had small windows and a large fence, so I didn't often look out into the open night when I woke up at 3am wondering why I'd had such weird dreams or couldn't sleep. On the farm, I sit up in bed and look directly out onto the open front yard, that in turn overlooks the little valley we reside in. If it's a full moon, I can see gum tree and picnic table shadows falling across the lawn like an eerie ghost daytime. 

Maybe it's all the wandering around I do – I've tried to reallocate time that was once spent commuting to a steady job, into time spent exercising outside or just rambling around the farm. The clement weather of my new location helps too. Often enough, I'll look up and see the moon day-setting over the mountains, make a note of it's phase and think about whether I've been feeling a consistent kind of way. 

And maybe it's the summer heat, spent by the freshwater creek, wondering at the huge ebb and flow of the king tides, even this far up the river, drawn by January's supermoon. Wondering at how something as far away as the moon can make the river run backward, up over the rocks it usually cascades white and wild over, back into the elevation of the hills and mountains it's running from, until all the usual geography of the creek is almost unrecognisable. 

So, with all that on my mind, I decided to make a wall poster tracking the major moon events throughout the year. I then wanted to share it with you, which turned out to be a little more difficult than expected, considering the dates and perspectives that differ across the timezones and hemispheres... So, after a lot of research and editing, I've released three variants on the 'Follow the Moon' lunar calendar: Aus/NZ, US/Canada and UK/Spain/France. 

Hopefully the moon serves you well this year, or you at least know who to blame when you can't sleep. 

Shop here. 

At the start of each year, I like to sit down and draw something while thinking about the whole new year thing. Away from my usual rambling and deliberately obtuse sketchbook pages or from the externally directed commercial work I do, I take the first opportunity of the new year to draw something with intention and hope, and further, the wish that it might be an omen or harbinger of good things to come. 

So this year, after all that 2017 wrought, I thought about compassion and insight and listening and learning and understanding. About all the suffering and hard truths and struggling and sorrow that might blossom into something magnificent and powerful this year. Maybe it's naively optimistic, but my hope is that we can be honest and compassionate through times of necessary change and difficult evolution, gentle in our rage and discontent, soft in our strength. 

I hope it's all for the best.