Monday, March 01, 2010
Art without borders
The circle is complete.
The antidote to our gray stone village in winter.
This is the kind of dog I want.
Isla's version of Klimt's The Kiss
Anne Shirley alone in her boat.
It's so much fun when Daddy joins in.
Tired flowers, pastel
Painting with mud, like the cavemen did.
How did Degas recreate sunlight through a window with pastel?
More Degasian inspiration from Musee d'Orsay
Dressing the part.
One more. Is this another Degas? Or is it Monet? Renoir? I don't know.
I see San Francisco, Esther sees turtles marching across the land.
I wrote a post over at BabyCenter about the dance of childhood, or any, friendship and how art just might have to be my daughter's best friend right now.
I think the culture shock of leaving behind our home and moving to France has stripped us all of a layer of our skin and exposed us to a level of sensation, sensitivity, awareness and humility that we've never experienced before.
It's the most evident in Esther, a sensitive soul to begin with. Sensitive with a competitive streak and high expectations of herself and others. Art has been her one constant throughout it all. She's good at it, she loves it, and it knows no borders. It knows no language barriers. It doesn't let her down.
If Esther is given time and space and quiet, usually meaning a good book on tape without any loud, grumbling grownup voices interrupting, her heart will come pouring out onto the blank page. And it gives me, mom, such a unique glimpse into her mind to see what she creates.
Her affinity for putting it all down in pictures has rubbed off on her sister. Isla sits down with Esther, delighting in the fleeting sense of unity with her big sister, and creates right along side of her. She moves so purposefully through the simple motions of getting a fresh piece of paper, putting it down on the table, choosing a color from the bouquet of markers in front of her, and moving her busy hands back and forth across a page.
And I take a strange delight, and sense of purpose, in seeing her, and her big sister, create things. Never are my children more self sufficient and content than when they are producing art.
Of course, Isla's favorite part of the whole drawing process comes at the end, when she gets to use scissors and tape and turn her pictures into a collage.
For Esther, every blank page is an opportunity for self expression. Sometimes it's fantasy that needs to come out. Other times it's reality. Usually, a beautiful melding mixture of both.
And I, of course, don't forget me?, envy their ability to escape, to create fantasy worlds, on paper. Somehow words seem confining in comparison.