Marisol's painted self-portrait: big curly hair in a terracotta scarf, gold hoops, striped shirt and overalls, painting at a table full of paint jars and paper cutouts.

Hola, I'm Marisol

I paint the weather I grew up with

I grew up in south Phoenix, where my abuelo kept a coffee can on the porch rail every July "in case the sky remembered us." It always did, eventually. Grandpa's Jars of Rain is for every kid who has ever waited for something big.

I paint in gouache, tear everything into paper, and print my sketches on an old risograph, which never lines the colors up quite right. I like it that way. So do kids.

That's a painting, not a photo. I'm shy.

From my table to your lap

How a page gets made

Scribble

Every page starts as a pencil sketch, usually forty of them, usually of Kiki's hair.

Paint

Big sheets of gouache: monsoon purple, saguaro green, a yellow like 4 pm in July.

Tear

The paint gets torn into clouds, cactus and dust, and moved around until it feels right.

Print

The risograph adds its wobble, and the page is done. Then I start the next thirty-nine.

Immersive

The studio

A small room with a big window

My studio looks out on one very patient saguaro. Every cloud in this book was pinned to that wall first. Schools can visit on video, and I'll hold Kiki's sketches up to the camera.

Book a school visit

Marisol's studio: a drafting table with sketches of Kiki and her jar, paint jars and brushes, paper clouds and saguaros pinned to the wall, a window with a saguaro outside.

Come say hi

Story times

Sample events for the demo

Jul 12Monsoon story timeA neighborhood library, Phoenix. Bring a jar.Save a seat
Jul 26Paint a storm cloudA family art morning, Tempe. Smocks provided.Save a seat
Aug 9Signing and lemonadeAn independent bookshop, Mesa.Save a seat

Site Plus

Letters from the studio

A postcard when it rains

Once a month, and every time the first monsoon storm hits Phoenix, I send a short letter: a new sketch, a coloring page, and what I'm painting next.