Karen Stolper found her voice in a library room where silence is required. Just as books line the walls of the Princeton Public Library, each with stories to tell, she saw her own journey reflected from behind the glass, unable to be hushed.
But before Stolper could tell the tale of her family through pictures, she had to comfort her daughter with the poise only a devoted mother — and accomplished illustrator — could.
“When my first daughter, Ayva, started nursery school, she was reluctant,” Stolper said. “I wanted to send her with something that would ease some anxiety. I’ve always liked craft paper, and that’s paper bags, so I started by drawing on her paper bags.”
This way, when the time for a midday meal approached, Ayva’s worries would be quelled by her mother’s chosen expression of love. “She would get a reminder that I was thinking about her,” Stolper explained. As lunch boxes replaced Stolper’s original brown canvas, she moved to the traditional yellow hue and adhesive backing of Post-it Notes as her chosen medium.
On the simple square memo pads, Stolper drew human figures, household objects, and seasonal imagery, continuing the trend for her second daughter, Lila. Thousands of Post-it Notes traveled with the girls for 12 years, many of them incorporating visual references to their family experiences from adolescence to adulthood.
While Ayva and Lila are now in college, their childhood is memorialized through “In Lunch With Love,” Stolper’s featured summer art exhibit in the Princeton Public Library’s second floor reading room. Through August 28, 700 of the more than 3,000 (and counting) Post-it Notes will remain on display, either organized in grid patterns or free form, overlapping arrangements.
Stolper used pen and ink to communicate her voice for the bulk of the collection, consistently employing what she describes as a reliable style combining loose drawing with tighter painting.
Originally from just outside of Philadelphia, Stolper has been a freelance illustrator and painter for nearly three decades.
She earned her BFA from Parsons School of Design in New York City, then stayed there for most of her career until she came to Princeton alongside husband Kelly O’Kane, a creative design director in the branding industry.
The mother of two quickly became busy balancing her artistic pursuits and taking on educational positions, teaching at various local entities before her current role as a drawing instructor for the Hun School of Princeton.
Stolper, now a Princeton resident of approximately 15 years, turned to the notes each night as a way of feeling productive. Having already been the recipient of awards from the Society of Illustrators NY, the Society of Illustrators of Los Angeles, and the Society of Publication Designers, she was not drawing for glory or at a publication’s request.
Referring to illustration as her first love, Stolper said that her early passion in drawing felt comfortable because she could always keep going, following art when no other affinity burned as brightly.
“I went to art school specifically because I always knew I wanted to be illustrating, telling the story visually, communicating something, solving a problem,” she explained. “There just wasn’t a time when I didn’t draw, or want to draw, paint, or create.”
Her parents encouraged these endeavors by helping her shop for supplies, sign up for classes, and even, as Stolper fondly recalls, buying her first drawing table. “But at the college level, they were concerned,” she said, noting they expressed worries about the financial viability of the field.
Yet Stolper fought for her choice, hardships and all. She expresses gratitude that even though she and O’Kane are creative professionals, Ayva and Lila do not plan to go down the same career paths. Instead, they have retained artistic sensibilities from their parents, with passions for different aspects of the humanities.
Stolper has had her editorial illustrations shown in magazines and newspapers like the New York Times and Washington Post, even dipping into children’s book covers — “Juneymoon: The Story of a Perfectly Imperfect Dog” by Nikki Nesci and “Snow White: The Untold Story” by Catherine Heller — as well as licensing.
Represented by Looking Good Licensing, Stolper expanded to products such as greeting cards, rubber stamps, paper goods, and more. The variety has “helped my work evolve a lot, not just from conceptual problem solving, but also to what I enjoy, which is figure drawing, whimsical storytelling in a different kind of way,” she said.
Upon their accidental invention in 1968, Post-it Notes were referred to as “solutions without a problem” when a scientist researching new adhesives at manufacturing company 3M could not identify a use for the memo pads. A few years later, a fellow scientist and church choir singer found purpose in them, using the tacky backings as temporary bookmarks for his hymnal.
Just as hope arrived, a slew of failed workshopping attempts and marketing strategies almost ended the legacy of the Post-it before it began. Then, 3M reintroduced the product in what was internally coined the “Boise Blitz,” giving out free samples on such a mass scale that the pads went from the Idaho city to a necessity of the office world.
While 3M’s patent for Post-it Notes expired in 1997 and the origin of the product has since been legally debated, they were the vessel of choice for Stolper’s illustrations, which she had “a lifetime supply of, and didn’t know what to do with.”
No, there was no second Boise Blitz. Before she married O’Kane, the latter made regular contributions to a Florida organization, the Handicapped And Retired People Workshop (H.A.R.P.), which provided employment for their namesake communities in Deerfield Beach.
Stolper does not know if H.A.R.P. is still active, but with each donation, the group would send a token of appreciation back. One year, it was bags of Post-it Notes.
As they moved from place to place, Stolper brought them along, knowing they were simply “too good” to dispose of and hoping, just like the 3M scientist, that she could use them for something in the future.
Stolper always preferred working on color rather than white, and one day, had the epiphany that the memo pads were the ideal size — and perfect for lunchboxes.
Over the years, Ayva and Lila rarely talked about their mother’s illustrations. Stolper wondered if perhaps the two thought that’s what all parents did, since O’Kane was no stranger to “stepping in” when necessary. Nonetheless, the notes always returned home alongside remnants of food — never thrown away or forgotten, just with a newfound collaborative charm.
“Often, they would come back mangled, mutilated, wet, torn or dripped on, but honestly, I really liked that. I liked the wear and tear. I liked their addition to them,” Stolper said warmly, recalling that as she began compiling the earlier pieces, leftover sesame seeds tumbled out.
Her collection started resembling a project, and its message happened to align with the theme of “unnoticed moments” found throughout Stolper’s paintings. She paints skyscapes and buildings with acrylic on masonite, showcasing everyday structures in a new light.
She started capturing these “little things” from her experiences as a parent, looking back fondly on the buildup of miniscule events. Just getting out the door, Stolper explained, was a combination of so many factors that tend to stand out over time.
“When we put ourselves together as a family,” she began, celebrating both the casual and the ceremonious, “It’s all those little things that make us, at the same time, universal.” All families can engage in these activities, she says, yet “we have our own jokes, code, habits — but every family does in their own way.”
This uniqueness is also conveyed through her use of symbols, as Stolper tends to draw oversized instruments, lightbulbs, and bridges, frequently taking them out of scale.
But an equally important factor in her work, though, is a playful sense of humor.
Her favorite pieces tend to be notes with nostalgic and/or amusing qualities, such as a recent note of a girl dancing with a vacuum cleaner. This portrayal of chores was inspired by Stolper ensuring that everyone in her house did “their part as far as dishes and cleaning,” turning into one of many that she recognizes their moments in.
In 2020, Stolper co-founded the Princeton Artist Directory (PAD) alongside local creatives Mic Diño Boekelmann and Mary Waltham. PAD is an online collection of “over 60 professionally active artists — that is, visual artists, musicians, writers, and performance artists all based in Princeton.”
What motivated Stolper to show her notes at the Princeton Public Library was its open embrace of the local art community, where not only have they shown work from her PAD co-founders, but also Stolper’s paintings. She thanked Janie Hermann, a public programming librarian, for all of her support in bringing the visual narrative of human bonds to life.
Stolper said that while the notes were never intended for anyone but her and her daughters, who will come away with their own meaning of the pieces, the illustrations are relatable in experiences, reinforcing the heart of the exhibit — colorful expressions of familial love.
She also credits writing “Word Birdy — The Unheard of Word Dictionary” with daughter Lila, whose nickname is “Little Bird” and “Birdy” for short, as another motivator in her journey. For years, the two would fabricate words with their sense of mischief in mind, writing down “crazy, strange, funny-sounding” terms in a looseleaf notebook.
Besides just the benefit of bonding with her daughter, Stolper was able to illustrate the book on her own terms. Even though they never published “Word Birdy,” this freedom inspired her to realize that even as a longtime freelancer, she could creatively speak for herself without any client input or instruction.
“It opened the door to, ‘I can have my own voice, I can do what I want. I can make my own projects. I don’t have to ask somebody else. I don’t have to wait around for someone to hand me something,’” Stolper said. “I’ve become much more interested, and really much more confident in, what I have to say for myself as opposed to solving other problems.”
At the beginning of her career, Stolper’s editorial illustrations covered heavier subject matter sometimes deemed too grim or dark for photographs, such as medical issues. When overwhelmed by the serious nature of her work, Stolper often turned to her sense of humor for salvation — the ability to laugh, she said, is a necessity in her life and household.
For “In Lunch with Love,” she did not need to dabble in negative imagery, but rather look inside her treasure trove of recollections. Stolper considers the Post-it Notes “selfish” as they are solely for her interests, as opposed to accompanying someone else’s message.
Yet, as she updates her @karenstolperinlunchwithlove Instagram account in lieu of lunchboxes, she selflessly shares slices of her life with a signature heart scribbled in the corner.
“The more I sit and draw, the happier I am,” Stolper said. Her art has empowered her, and she wants to keep “telling stories and collaborating, but with a much more personal bent.”
She expressed interest in developing Word Birdy further, as well as approaching 3M about the exhibit, where she is considering advocating for herself as a future brand ambassador.
As Stolper dutifully draws her way through her supply, she is trying to “corral” the remaining sticky notes and ensure that no one touches them. The yellow paper squares are almost completely gone, so after finishing, she wants to find a way for the show to grow, whether that means another display, a book, or otherwise.
“I want it to have a life because it’s meaningful to me,” Stolper explained. “In Lunch with Love” shows the importance of making new memories, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem. “It’s really just all about talking with my girls, finding another way to have dialogues, to keep communicating, to laugh and recognize that all these moments are really important.”
Stolper said that the immediacy of seeing her work in person gives the exhibit more power than when just stacked in boxes or posted on Instagram, and looking up at them, the memories really do flood back.
Until the day her last Post-it Note will emerge from the box as a canvas, Stolper maintained that what the project started as — a conscious yet quiet celebration of hope, humor and happy times signaling a halfway point in the day — will forever remain impactful to her.
For more on the artist: karenstolperillustrations.com.
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