process
Winter sharpens attention. Working small does not feel like making less. It feels like making room. Room for ideas to stay provisional, for repetition to do its work, and for thinking to take shape before it has to decide. Sign up for free to read more at The Studio Window. :)
Long Essay
Borders don’t always stay still. In this final Border Play essay, I look at frames that shift with the story, using Where the Wild Things Are and What Is a River? to explore how changing edges carry emotion, time, and transformation. Read more at The Spread Table.
Long Essay
A new year, a new sketchbook routine. I’m sharing how I’m approaching daily drawing this year, what I’m focusing on, and what I’m learning along the way.
Long Essay
I’m taking stock at the end of the year. Letting go of work that’s finished its job, carrying forward what still feels alive, and noticing what’s missing. This isn’t about reinventing anything. It’s about alignment, direction, and making space for what comes next.
From The Open Library
A video on what's on my Christmas shelf
Studio Practice
I’ve been making greeting cards for a long time, quietly and imperfectly. This post is about returning to that work with care: Folkwell Press, small experiments, and why making things gently, without a grand plan, feels right to me right now.
Picture Book
If you make picture books, borders are never neutral. Sometimes they guide; sometimes they trap on purpose. In this essay, I break down what happens when the frame becomes a cage. Subscribe to The Spread Table to read more.
Winter sharpens attention. Working small does not feel like making less. It feels like making room. Room for ideas to stay provisional, for repetition to do its work, and for thinking to take shape before it has to decide. Sign up for free to read more at The Studio Window. :)
Borders don’t always stay still. In this final Border Play essay, I look at frames that shift with the story, using Where the Wild Things Are and What Is a River? to explore how changing edges carry emotion, time, and transformation. Read more at The Spread Table.
A new year, a new sketchbook routine. I’m sharing how I’m approaching daily drawing this year, what I’m focusing on, and what I’m learning along the way.
I’m taking stock at the end of the year. Letting go of work that’s finished its job, carrying forward what still feels alive, and noticing what’s missing. This isn’t about reinventing anything. It’s about alignment, direction, and making space for what comes next.
A slow, visual blog about picture books, drawing, story rhythm, and the creative season between soil and sketch by Ginnie Hsu
Every picture book hinges on a fold, the space where pacing, balance, and emotion live. An essay on how design and story meet in the quiet middle.
When frost touches the garden, the work in my studio changes too. Subscribe for free to read more.
Changing my palette to Fall (Video) Subscribe to read and watch at The Spread Table to receive new essays, insights and PB notes.
A long-form essay on silence, space, and storytelling in picture books — from the PB studio and the field. Subscribe to read more at The Spread Table to receive new essays and PB notes.
I tripped over dahlias that had toppled into the path this morning. In the studio, I pare things down. But the garden keeps teaching me ... Subscribe to read more for free at The Studio Window tier to receive new essays and field notes.
Hi all, I’m writing this from the garden. I’ve been finding a rhythm here - three posts a month and it’s been amazing to notice ... Subscribe to read more at The Spread Table tier to receive new essays and PB notes.
Some mornings, the drawing feels like it could spill right off the page. The lines wander, the characters stretch, and the scene hums with motion.... Subscribe to read more at The Spread Table tier to receive new essays and PB notes.
We moved to The Meadow in June. The boxes are still stacked in corners, the walls half-painted, the floors waiting for their turn. Every day, we step over tools, buckets, and dust, learning the rhythms of a house that is still introducing itself. It’s a work in progress — and so are we.
There’s a specific kind of silence that happens when you begin again. Not the quiet of starting fresh, but the kind that comes when you return ...older, more uncertain, and aware that someone might be watching. I’ve felt it at the start of a new sketchbook. On the
A welcome to those who found their way to The Open Spread. Hi, I’m Ginnie. I’m so glad you’re here. I illustrate and write picture books. I teach storytelling at a university. I grow flowers — and sometimes, they grow me. The Open Spread is the place I