A week removed from the excitement of ICON7, it’s time to share a few stories.

First off, ICON is an every-other-year gathering of folks from throughout the illustration world: illustrators of every stripe, art directors, and even a writer or two. There are a few days of workshops followed by a few days of presentations. For the most part, the presenters are highly accomplished and well-known people. Apparently, we were invited in an attempt to showcase some of the up-and-coming/less known people doing interesting things with illustration.

We were asked to run a workshop and give a talk on the main stage. We were excited about both. Our workshop was to have dealt with collaboration: what it is, how it works, and rules of thumb for maximizing its effectiveness. We couldn’t wait to see how it would go. We arrived in Providence and went to find out where our workshop would be held only to find this sign.

Alas, the problem of being an up and coming/less known person is a decided lack of interest in one’s workshop when other, sexier illustrators are offering workshops at the same time. We swallowed our pride and headed to the main stage, where we were due for a sound check and rehearsal.

We had known that the ICON auditorium (the VETS Auditorium in downtown Providence) would be by far the biggest venue in which we’d ever spoken, but we were unprepared for the sheer immensity of the place.

So many seats. Such a big screen. Such lofty expectations.

We considered going home and hiding under our beds, but as soon as Robbi saw herself projected on the very large screen, her sails were filled with intoxicating hubris, and she decided that we ought to stick around after all.

After our rehearsal was done, we found Tilly (wonderful Tilly) and headed out to explore the wonders of Providence. A couple of tape artists were creating a huge, wonderful mural on the outside of the hotel.

We talked to them about what they were up to (apparently they do this sort of thing all the time) and got a dinner recommendation.

Robbi and Tilly were pleased because they only eat pizza that is grilled.

I was pleased because I only eat pizza endorsed by GQ.

August was pleased because, while no one was paying attention, he got his first bite of salad.

And all of us were thoroughly pleased by the dessert pizza–blueberries and strawberries swimming in a bed of cheesecakey delight.

Seriously, if you’re in Providence and hungry, swing by Bob and Timmy’s (provided you are GQ enough to handle it).

After dinner, we walked around Providence as the sun set.

Of course, I had to jump over the Rhode Island State House.

That night, we were inspired by ICON7 President John Hendrix’s opening remarks. Be sure to have a read/look if you are interested in illustration.

After the opening ceremonies, there was music.

And a troupe of dancing aliens.

No kidding.

They were weird and wonderful.

August’s skepticism notwithstanding.

Photo above courtesy of creative director SooJin Buzelli.

The next day was a full day of presentations by incredible, accomplished, interesting people. I’ll be vague about their identities and accomplishments because Robbi has banished me from commentary. She, apparently, as illustrator, is the only one qualified to blog thoughtfully about her compatriots, and so I, mere writer, will move humbly to the end of the day, when we carried our boxes of books to the basement of the hotel for the Rhode Show, a gathering of illustrators, art directors, and the general public.

We set up the Idiots’Books table and waited to see what would happen.

What happened was commerce.

Blistering commerce. Apparently, illustrators and art directors are interested in odd, commercially nonviable picture books for adults. One woman came by and ordered “one of everything.”

The books and bucks were flying so fast we had to rely heavily on the charm and dextrous hands of Tilly (remarkable Tilly), whose grace under fire was the only thing keeping us afloat.

While Tilly was maintaining order, I was out looking for someone. Earlier that night, the keynote speakers had been indie comic Lynda Barry and Simpsons creator Matt Groening. Apparently, the two are old friends, and it showed. They made a spectacular duo, reading together from their respective comic strips (Groening read from Life in Hell) and sharing an easy, wise, hilarious banter that had the audience alternating between belly laughter and tears of pure delight.

In any case, I wanted to meet Mr. Groening, and went to find him. When I did, I told him what we Idiots were up to. He was intrigued, and came to our table. In addition to consenting to this photo, he did us the ultimate honor of buying five of our books.

We could have gone home happy at that very moment.

But first we had to schlepp all our boxes back up to our hotel room.

And eat some delicious, fat, cold Korean noodles.

And there was the other small matter of our presentation, scheduled for the next day at high noon. Apparently, it hadn’t yet been canceled. And so, fighting more butterflies than it seemed possible to contain in our collective stomachs, we willed ourselves to sleep.

It is not easy for two nobodies to get up on a really big stage in front of a crowd of accomplished, amazing illustrators and purport to have something interesting to say. These thoughts were flashing through Robbi’s mind during the break before our session began.

But the minutes ticked away, and suddenly it was time for us to start. Because this was a fancy sort of conference, we wore wireless mics.

We waited nervously in the wings as the speaker before us did his thing. And then, suddenly and much too soon, our names were called.

We took the stage.

And we did our thing.

We told our story and the people listened.

They laughed where they were supposed to, they did not throw fruit, and they clapped at the end.

It was everything that we could have hoped for. So thank you, people who did not throw fruit.

We had been preparing (mentally, emotionally, and otherwise) for this moment for almost a year, and so, when it was over, we felt a mixture of triumph and relief.

We packed our week’s worth of stuff back into the car (with the assistance of Tilly [tireless Tilly]).

And headed home.

Thank you, Jaimie Zollars (illustrator extraordinarre, ICON board member, and the person who believed in us enough to nominate us for ICON in the first place). Thank you, loads of volunteers who made ICON happen. Thank you Matt Groening, for making us feel special. And thank you, Tilly, for doing so much to keep things running smoothly.

Any of you who love illustration (as a maker, fan, or consumer) should consider attending ICON8. We hope to be there ourselves.