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artistic endeavors


One day last week Jack came home with this drawing, done independently at school. It looked familiar. I asked him about it, and he told me those are bombs and eggs and a mechanachick. A what? "From that book," he told me.


This book. Poor farmer's homestead is destroyed by a tornado, leaving a pile of metal rubble. From that pile of rubble he constructs a whole new farm of Mechanimals.


Spot the mechanachick that Jack drew in such peril? "I didn't get it right," he said. "I forgot the buttons."



He came home with these in his backpack last week, too. Reproductions of Van Gogh's Starry Night and Sunflowers.




And just this past week, a friend of mine posted something on fb that relates.


I wonder where Jack will take this? I was surprised to see such artistry from my staunchly unartistic child. The Van Gogh reproductions are school work, so they don't really count. But the Mechanachick... he did that on his own. How does that speak to his soul in a way Van Gogh doesn't?

Yoram used to say "There's nothing new under the sun." I struggled with that awhile and resolved it by deciding that through my lens it becomes new. That's authenticity, not originality. I used to strive for originality but lately I've been thinking more about connection. If something speaks to my soul, where are the other souls to which it speaks? Can I find them through work of my own? Perhaps, but that work must be authentic.

For someone who spent 37 years trying to please others it's difficult learning how to please myself.

Comments

auntie m said…
I think the boy has some talent. And what is this work of which you speak?

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So many reasons it's been a long time since we took the boys out thrift store shopping. Yesterday, Tuesday, both of us had a full day off to spend as we pleased.


First we ate at Chaffin's Diner. They seated us in the less-dinery back room, which ended up being a good thing because we sat directly beneath a fan and didn't notice so much the heat. E drank decaff coffee with cream. I didn't notice sugar. Decaff, like his Uncle D. Coffee, like his Mimi.



We hit Shop for a Cause first, where the boys found nothing and subsequently sulked.



Next we pulled into the Humane Society Thrift Store, which I haven't visited in a long time. Historically I haven't found anything there.



Today we hit the treasure jackpot.



A $2 Ziploc bag containing the comprehensive plastic presidential contingent from Washington through Eisenhower.



Of course E had them ordered in a matter of moments.



Finally we escaped the store with a trove of treasures (more than I've found in one place in …

my favorite

Sometimes I dream of operating a food truck specializing in gourmet wok-popped popcorn.

wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.