I first met Simms at the Blue Apple offices about six years ago. I discovered his artwork for the first time when I was a student at the High School of Music and Art when I saw the first edition of WHERE'S MY HOUSE? I then tried to find as much of his work as I could. Everything I found had an amazing quality of child-like innocence and sophistication. Most of all, the quality of his line conveyed the personality of a real person, an artist. He became my hero!

When we began working on his first Blue Apple titles, he sent his black-and-white line drawings with instructions for how they were to be colored. After coloring on the computer, we sent print-outs to Simms in California (this was before he had email) for his feedback. He would then call and begin the conversation with: "Are you sure the art is okay? Will the line work hold up?" Despite my reassurances, invariably, Simms would decide that he needed to redraw the art. He was always sure he could make it better.

Here's a scan of the kind of notes we would typically received from him:

Often, within a few days, we would receive his beautiful new line art (and he was right—he did improve on what he had sent the first time) with the color indicated meticulously for every area, no matter how small (in CMYK breakdowns, no less!). I was amazed at his expertise in knowing how the colors would actually turn out.

Here's a typical example of his color markings. This one was done for a counter display of his board books.

Here's the final display:

One of the last books we worked on was DINOSAURS, a giant fold-out book. Harriet Ziefert had a set of dinosaur greeting cards that Simms had painted in the 70's, which was the starting point for this title. While Simms drew new line art, I used gradations to attempt to reproduce the lovely watercolor hues of the early pieces. When Simms saw the color, he was not happy. Here's the first attempt at color:

I explained to Simms that we were following his palette of 30 years ago. His response was that we should forget about what he had done in the the past. He felt that his artwork looked too "mass market and it had to change." After lengthy discussion, this is where we arrived:

He was much happier, and you can see why. What I learned (and what I should have known) was:

1) trying to reproduce on the computer what Simms had painted by hand in watercolor was at best ill-conceived

2) trying to recreate something Simms had done it the past went against everything that he believed about making art

Simms always tried to make his art new and fresh. He would say that he was making it better—fixing it. Those original dinosaur illustrations are still wonderful, and charming, and inventive. The old and the new are both terrific, two different takes on the same subject. But Simms was never satisfied with what he had done. He always thought the work could be better.

His art inspires me as much now as it did back when I was in high school. But the generosity and curiosity of his creative spirit and is a gift I will always treasure. I miss him already.