I love art.
I love Bouguereau. John William Waterhouse. Degas.
My dad's watercolors especially. The artistic traits go back a few generations in my family, I have a painting my great grandmother did hanging on the wall. We're creative people, my family.
But if I had to pick a favorite, this one *might* be it:
This is Dream of Arcadia by Thomas Cole. It lives on the 6th floor of the Denver Art Museum. And I can't go to the DAM without seeing this one.
I don't know why exactly I love it. {And the picture does NOT do it justice, by the way. You need to visit it yourself, to see the work Cole did on the sunlight.} I like to imagine heaven looks like this... maybe that's why I'm so drawn to it? I'm such a romantic...
A few nights ago, however, my mind's opinion of beautiful art changed.
My world as I know it was rocked.
It all started around 10pm, when we were getting ready to put Eisley to bed after a night out.
I started towards her, with intentions to get her ready for bed,that's when I saw a pen in her hand.
I was about to tell her, "No, no, Eisley. We don't play with pens..." and take it from her - but she caught me off guard by doing something I'd never seen her do with a pen before.
See, instead of putting it in her mouth, she scribbled with it, onto a stray paper daddy had left lying around {hope it wasn't something he needed}. I was delighted.
So I went to the butcher block, and pulled out a box of unused crayons I had on hand. I knew I'd need them someday.
And the creativity commenced:
For almost an hour, and she could have gone all night.
She got down & dirty with her artwork. I couldn't be more proud, as a creatively inclined person myself. I know all kids enjoy coloring, but I really did feel Eisley was just so into it. I've never seen her devote so much time & attention on any task or toy before. It was intense. Jackson Pollock would have been intimidated, I'm telling you.
Although we did have a hard time understanding why the white crayon didn't work...
She would not have mommy or daddy mess with her work... so when daddy drew a stick figure {hey, we can't all be artistic}...
She scribbled it out. I get that. You don't mess with someone's masterpiece.
I love Bouguereau. John William Waterhouse. Degas.
My dad's watercolors especially. The artistic traits go back a few generations in my family, I have a painting my great grandmother did hanging on the wall. We're creative people, my family.
But if I had to pick a favorite, this one *might* be it:
This is Dream of Arcadia by Thomas Cole. It lives on the 6th floor of the Denver Art Museum. And I can't go to the DAM without seeing this one.I don't know why exactly I love it. {And the picture does NOT do it justice, by the way. You need to visit it yourself, to see the work Cole did on the sunlight.} I like to imagine heaven looks like this... maybe that's why I'm so drawn to it? I'm such a romantic...
A few nights ago, however, my mind's opinion of beautiful art changed.
My world as I know it was rocked.
It all started around 10pm, when we were getting ready to put Eisley to bed after a night out.
I started towards her, with intentions to get her ready for bed,that's when I saw a pen in her hand.
I was about to tell her, "No, no, Eisley. We don't play with pens..." and take it from her - but she caught me off guard by doing something I'd never seen her do with a pen before.
See, instead of putting it in her mouth, she scribbled with it, onto a stray paper daddy had left lying around {hope it wasn't something he needed}. I was delighted.
So I went to the butcher block, and pulled out a box of unused crayons I had on hand. I knew I'd need them someday.
And the creativity commenced:
For almost an hour, and she could have gone all night.
She got down & dirty with her artwork. I couldn't be more proud, as a creatively inclined person myself. I know all kids enjoy coloring, but I really did feel Eisley was just so into it. I've never seen her devote so much time & attention on any task or toy before. It was intense. Jackson Pollock would have been intimidated, I'm telling you.
Although we did have a hard time understanding why the white crayon didn't work...
She would not have mommy or daddy mess with her work... so when daddy drew a stick figure {hey, we can't all be artistic}...
She scribbled it out. I get that. You don't mess with someone's masterpiece.
She was MAD when we finally had to pull her away and put her to bed.And although I've always cringed at messy, cluttered refrigerators, I just couldn't stop myself.
Eisley's first work, age 17 months.
Dream of Arcadia, move over! Momma's got a new favorite masterpiece!
That is so interesting, she is very young to have such an interest. I guess she gets it from her Mum!
ReplyDeleteI was once at a couple's house and they had kept each of their four kids' first piece of artwork from school, and framed them on their kitchen walls. I thought that was lovely.
Just make sure you put the date on the back!
I loved this post!
ReplyDeleteI love this post!! She is so adorable. I like the idea of framing this!! I think I saved Moriah's?? Somewhere???
ReplyDeleteDraw Eisley, I hope you always draw. It is a happy thing. Make your mark, draw your line, and it is always yours, your thought, your mind, your heart.
ReplyDeleteA drawing can be vigorous and dramatic, brash and bold, whimsical and funny, lyrical and lovely. A drawing can describe your dreams and desires, your thoughts and plans, and it can follow, merely with a line, the grace God gave to the world.
So I hope you keep drawing. There are skills to be learned and things to know, and they all may be aquired with patience and practice. The important thing, is to make your mark.
Love, Grandpa