In Toronto writer Michael Bedard’s latest picture book, a grandmother tells her grandson about meeting Frances Loring and Florence Wyle, the “Clay Ladies” of the title. Loring and Wyle were artists – sculptors who lived in a Toronto building called the Church from 1920 until the 1960s. The Clay Ladies got their name from the neighbourhood children, to whom they would give lumps of clay. As Grandmother notes, “the Ladies had a way with wounded things,” so when, as a child, she found a wounded bird, she took it to them. Florence put it in a cage and told her she could visit it whenever she liked. During those visits, she learned lessons that lasted her a lifetime: to mould clay and “feel the life in it,” and to take time to see the world in depth and detail. This is a gift she is now passing on to her grandson. As they travel the path from her house to her work shed, they take their time, “stopping all the way to look at things.”

With books such as The Divide, Emily, and Glass Town, Bedard has established himself as a master at examining the sources of creative inspiration (whether the striking landscape of Nebraska or the sombre Yorkshire moor), as they combine with childhood wonder. These stories are not biographical sketches, yet the way they’re rooted in the lives of their subjects lends them substance. Bedard’s text is spare, and Les Tait’s illustrations are left to illuminate this world of inspiration. Dappled light reflects the vibrancy of the creative process, while cool colours lend a feeling of serenity, create a space in which that process can be nurtured. Although it lacks the magic of Emily and Glass Town, perhaps partly because Loring and Wyle are not as widely familiar as Bedard’s previous subjects, this is a good solid book.