Gina Triplett is an illustrator who pulls inspiration from the natural world and applied art traditions, and mixes it all up within her ongoing interior monologue. She creates art for murals, books, products and just about anything that can get a picture on it. She’s done these types of things for lots of clients that have included Blue Q (ze best!), Converse, Urban Outfitters, Whole Foods and recently wrapped up a children’s book for Candlewick and MIT Publishing.
ANY PERSON WHO REALLY HELPED YOU IN YOUR AWESOME ARTISTIC JOURNEY?
I grew up in Minnesota farm country, and my mom and dad had an unexplained faith in my early interest in art. My dad was and is an active hobby painter, so the making of art was always a part of our life but the pursuit of it as a profession was pretty foreign. They supported me, though, and it’s meant everything.
WHERE DO YOUR BEST IDEAS COME FROM? (DREAMS, SHOWER, MUSEUM, TRAIN?)
My best ideas come from my sketchbook. It’s a place for me to try things out in a low-stakes environment. I can meander, explore or experiment and there’s nobody other than me I need to keep happy with it.
WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE THING TO DRAW AS A CHILD? WHY DID THAT LODGE IN YOUR HEAD?
I doodled a lot of different things as a kid, but one thing that stuck was landscapes. My parents got a book on Grandma Moses. It was years before I really learned about folk art or outsider art. While I didn’t yet have the art historical context to understand it in a broader sense, her work resonated with me on a gut level then and it still does now.
HOW DO YOU CELEBRATE THE COMPLETION OF A BIG PROJECT?
Pop a bottle of fancy champagne, book a trip to an expensive resort, buy extravagant shoes and, no, none of that. I take a breath and gear up for the next thing.
HOW DOES CREATIVITY RUN IN YOUR FAMILY, EVEN IF IT’S NOT DESIGN-RELATED?
My family is all creative. None of them are “artists.” We grew up out on the snowy plains, surrounded by farms. You made stuff out of necessity and you made stuff to entertain yourself and others.
