Food Colouring Versions

When I first observed my daughter attempting to write in a Mothers Day Card at age 1, I was unexpectedly taken off guard. I treasured what she presented me. As time went along, her and her brother's work piled up and, with notable exceptions, I did not necessarily take that much notice.

Something I have started to miss as my kids grow is the art projects. Far fewer come home with them from school and when they are at home, art projects are not the focal point as they once were.

So when they do take it upon themselves to create something at home, without prompting, I stop everything to admire it . I walked right out of the house and bought a frame for the one above when I discovered it.

When the other kid noticed the depth of my gratitude, she went about making her own version.

Just another example of how buying food colouring during a stormy week was one of the best purchasing decisions I have made in 2017 so far.

Comments

I entered August without you.

I won't visit you this month. You won't call. I will raid your garden and you won't get any of the vegetables. I will make plans without telling you about them. We'll go to the store and not buy you one single thing. Whole books will be read and I will not tell you which ones. I will watch movies and not inform you. The nasturiums will ripen. Last month was different. I changed my schedule and took time off work to be with you. I dropped all kinds of plans for us to be together. You sent me messages, I received them. I picked up food that I thought you would like at the store and sent you pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. I sang with you. We watched the Great Canadian Baking Show. You chose the recipe for the garlic scape pesto and gave me instructions for making the gooseberry jam. I am in August without you. You are in July.

Keep telling yourself that.

We talk to ourselves everyday, all day (and night) for the whole of our lives. We started talking to ourselves before we knew we were a self, we forget what we said because we forget everything from before...when we were too young and busy developing our brain to remember those early years. There is still lingering residue of long forgotten conversations I have had with myself as a toddler sitting around in the crevices...sloughing off occasionally into words I tell myself still. We talk non-stop, and not just with dialogue. Our goosebumps communicate to us, our tingly feelings, our neurons, our peripheal vision. They are all submitting data into our self and expecting us to react, respond or all to often, expecting what they are sending us will be ignored. After all that talking, you'd think we'd know what we think about most things, but occasionally we are stumped. Unless we stop what we are doing and really concentrate sometimes that voice(s) ...

The tiny little lie

"What I've discovered is that in art, as in music, there's a lot of truth-and then there's a lie. The artist is essentially creating his work to make this lie a truth, but he slides it in amongst all the others. The tiny little lie is the moment I live for, my moment. It's the moment that the audience falls in love." Lady Gaga "There's a robot. Do you see Mama his big eyes? He's a tall Robot and he is right over there." Do you see him? Have you seen him before? I was pleased to realize that I could. When I was about 6 or 7, I occasionally used to lie on my back at the foot of my bed and stare up a patch of stucco on the ceiling. Repeatedly and for what seemed like ages at a time, I would stare up at a cluster of tiny peaks of stucco that I could see with my 6 year old eyes was a little village inhabited by little creatures (half human, half smurf) marching around it. It was animated enough by the tiny shadows cast by those t...

Growing Versions

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