Day 27: Growing an Artist
Diverting from the Easter studies a bit today…one of the littles had one of THOSE moments today: you know the ones…you take a different path….something little happens when you least expect it…it makes the kind of impression you can see on their face…and you just know that this could change everything, forever?
We’re taking the long way back to the room for more pool supplies, and Little Lady
spots a man sitting by the pool amidst sketchpads and a pile of art supplies,
sketching with watercolor pencils. She is intrigued; she wants to see what he
is drawing. I was in a hurry- my initial reaction was to hurry her along, but I
went with it…
spots a man sitting by the pool amidst sketchpads and a pile of art supplies,
sketching with watercolor pencils. She is intrigued; she wants to see what he
is drawing. I was in a hurry- my initial reaction was to hurry her along, but I
went with it…
We walk over and ask if he would mind if we take a peek at his picture. He happily
turns his pad to show her a colorful drawing of the waterfall behind the pool:
she is amazed. He went on to tell us of his life: how he and his wife were
traveling here from England, how they have traveled the world, how he sells oil
paintings for a living, how we paints what he sees in his travels using watercolors,
how he has a granddaughter of his own who he shares his art with. He shows her
his drawings of Lancaster, England, of the Eiffel Tower, of scenic beauty in
Spain, of oriental buildings and foliage in Japan. Little Lady pipes in,
turns his pad to show her a colorful drawing of the waterfall behind the pool:
she is amazed. He went on to tell us of his life: how he and his wife were
traveling here from England, how they have traveled the world, how he sells oil
paintings for a living, how we paints what he sees in his travels using watercolors,
how he has a granddaughter of his own who he shares his art with. He shows her
his drawings of Lancaster, England, of the Eiffel Tower, of scenic beauty in
Spain, of oriental buildings and foliage in Japan. Little Lady pipes in,
“Well I’m an artist too. I do crafts and paint and make art with my mommy every day.”
The Englishman is pleased; “That is wonderful,” he says.
He closes his watercolor pencils in their thin metal case, and hands them to her.
“I want you to have these, and I want you to keep making art. I think you just may be an artist one day.”
Stunned into silence, Little Lady thanks him, eyes huge. She is amazed, I am humbled. We part ways with our new friend. As soon as we get to the room, she tosses her pool toys in the corner, forgotten, and throws herself on the bed with her new watercolor pencils. She flips open her sketchpad and starts in with a flourish, jabbering away about her plans for this picture, pencil flying across the page, making shapes and colors and lines. She says,
“Mommy, I’m making art, and it is important, and it makes me feel happy in my heart.”
Perfection.
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