I’ve always had a thing for weird and wonderful creatures, especially when they’re turned into hypnotic patterns. There’s something mesmerising about the rhythms you find in nature — ants in a line, spots on a frog, the unexpected beauty in the bizarre.
#Ants #PatternLover #KidsBookArt #NatureInspired #Permaculture #AnimalSocks #patternsinnature
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
I used to think legacy was something grand. It was reserved for people in history books or for marble statues. But the more I create, the more I raise kids, and the more we shape our land with intention, the more I realise: legacy is what you do every day with love, purpose, and a long view.
It’s in the pages of the books I’m writing and illustrating. The books filled with uncommon animals, goofy wordplay, and a deeper whisper about the wild world we share. It’s in the socks patterned with ants from my aardvark design. The mugs. The prints. The podcast conversations with other artists asking, “How do we actually survive doing this?”
But legacy isn’t just my art. It’s the soil beneath my feet. The food we grow. The trees we plant and leave to mature long after we’re gone.
We’re designing our home and farm using permaculture principles—a thoughtful, sustainable way of living that works with nature, not against it. Every decision we make is a step toward regeneration, not depletion. We’re building in a way that nurtures ecosystems and encourages life to flourish—on the land and within our family.
Part of that vision includes a couple of tiny homes dotted across our property. These aren’t side projects—they’re potential homes for our kids if they ever want to return, build a creative life of their own, or live close to the earth and their roots.
Our dream is simple but big:
- A place where art and nature co-exist.
- A space where endangered animals find champions in curious kids reading my books.
- A farm that feeds and shelters.
- A home our kids can return to—not just physically, but emotionally.
It’s about taking what we’ve been given—our talents, our patch of dirt, our story—and growing it into something nourishing.
When I’m gone, I hope my art still sparks some curiosity in weird and wonderful creatures. I hope the soil is still rich. I hope the native birds are still singing. And I hope my kids know they were raised by parents with a vision of what’s possible when you live aligned with creativity, care, and connection.
We’re building that vision now. One drawing. One planting. One choice at a time.
Kids Book Illustrator Andy C Marshall 