My first remembered act of creativity involved my mother's brand new tube of bright red lipstick and the canvas of a stark white bathroom wall. I was about three and probably recall this so well because my mother armed me with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge and stood behind me, yardstick in hand, delivering a swift swat to my behind every time I paused in my efforts to clean the wall.
My second remembered, and much more well received act of creativity involved a set of watercolors when I was five years old. Mom sat me down at the kitchen table, gave me the paints, a brush, cup of water and a piece of paper. Other than telling me how to wet the brush, I recieved no other instruction. Completely delighted, I proceeded to paint a large brownish black square outlined with irregular borders of yellow and orange. My masterpiece completed, I proclaimed that I had painted 'A Piece of Burnt Toast'. Thus began an ever evolving journey...
Seems to me that if you mix all the colors together in the paint set, brown toast is just about all you can create??!!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful story. It reminds me of two things - 1) The "It looked like spilt milk" book (wonderful) and 2) my own experiences with art adventures independent of parental guidance. Here's the story:
ReplyDeleteWhen I was about 4-5 I decided that make-up had the best pigments (especially in the eighties!) and I started coloring on top of my coloring books with fingernail polish. My mom, with the ever so keen sense of smell, put a stop to that real quick (or so she thought). Unfortunately for her I decided to do a little incognito painting when she was downstairs doing laundry. When I got a little carried away with some expressive brushwork I managed to flick paint in my eye. I hurriedly hid the evidence and went crying to my mom. Of course she and my dad both grilled me on what I'd been doing and I (tears in my bloodshot eyes) swore I hadn't used the polish - despite the fact it was all over the place. It ended with a trip to the ER and a crazy painful eye flush/drops -- the spanking came later as I recall.
Glad to find a fellow partner in crime!
I was always in trouble for hoarding all of my moms tape, scissors, glue and was forever digging through the trash in search of materials for my creations. One time when my mother had company I came strutting out of the bathroom with a lovely pink tampon applicator over each of my fingers. I had absolutely NO IDEA what they were, I just thought it was ever-so-cool to have pink plastic fingers. My mom turned beet red, screamed for me to take those off immediately, and admonished me to STAY OUT of the trashcans. After that, I left those pink things alone, but still foraged through the garbage on a regular basis. :)
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