My daughter got all independent the other day once she remembered my stash of painting canvasses and acrylic paint from a rummage sale this summer.
When the kids were little, we had regular paintfests in the kitchen. Sometimes they made galleries of dozens of paintings. Of course in those days, it was printer paper and washable watercolors. My older son liked to paint while he was nude so that he always had a surface for his art, even when I was not fast enough switching out papers. Then he could hop directly in the tub when he was done. He also liked to paint himself and then roll around on a big sheet of kraft paper. There was no keeping up with that child!
Now that they are a little older, we don’t rip through quite so many paintings. I don’t have to lock up the paint and brushes to discourage unauthorized artistic expressions. They even (mostly) clean up after themselves!
My daughter was quite inspired by the gold acrylic paint. It was probably pretty expensive originally, but at rummage sale prices…go for it! I like the 3D thing she’s got going on there. It looks to me like rocks tumbling down the mountain. And check out the shading of that sky.
Her first attempt at this painting didn’t go quite the way she wanted. Her sky got smeared. She tried to wipe it off, but that didn’t work, so she dunked the whole thing in the sink and started over.
When the kids work on art projects, I try to stay out of it unless they ask me for help. Well, except for household management and safety issues. I don’t want them to try to please me – I want them to just get whatever is in their brain out here where the rest of us can see it. All three of my kids are pretty quirky, which makes for some wonderful art.
When I was young, I liked to write stories. Sometimes I turned them in for my school projects. Once, my teacher read my story in front of the class and said that it was very creative. One of my classmates got all ugly with me and whispered that creative was just a nice word for weird. Eh, middle school! I tell my kids that weird is just a nasty, jealous word for creative.
I was weird though. I am weird now too. Oftentimes I don’t know I’m being creative until someone tells me. I do what seems to be the most obvious, natural thing, and then I get these looks. Oops, my creative is showing.
It’s gotten easier to handle as I’ve gotten older. I’m just myself – I couldn’t be normal if I tried, so I focus on being kind and loving and responsible, etc. I work to improve my character, and otherwise accept myself the way I am. Life would be boring if everyone were normal. Plus, we wouldn’t have art, and we’d still be wandering around foraging for food. Nothing would get invented. We would die young and sick and miserable. Creative is good.
Here it is, all done except for the signing. I love it and I’m so proud of her!