This morning as the kids and I, minus traveling Dan made our weekly pilgrimage to the farmers market with Leili on my back, Fern in the stroller laden with our soon to be full bags Riley meandering and Jake ever bouncing I was struck with the fact of how usually as we make our way through touching the avocados, tomatoes, raw wool, smelling the lavender, strawberries, and falafel what a blessing it is that my children can see artist here as a normal part of life. Not tucked away in a no touch museum, not made by some long gone genius; but there under a canopy they talk to the potter and touch his art, the young glass blower, the hippies with their beautiful organic produce (because really it is an art to grow such beautiful food). Then there is the fact that they are not just experiencing the art they are gleaning from the artist, the sweet older lady spinning raw wool, showing them, letting them touch it. The incredible dancing/playing/singing lady, "see Jake that is a fiddle, no not tap dancing, clogging can you hear the double tap with each movement"! Thankfully my children know that life is art and art is life even if I don't pull out those paints too often, and even when we are in a no touch exhibit. Here is Leili's first finger painting session, she was the cutest canvas of all!!
I have fond memories of painting on the kitchen counter. My mom would mix up soap suds with this powdered paint and we'd have a ball. She'd even use it for homeschool - easy way to practice writing letters or doing math.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're not afraid of the mess of finger painting!