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The Tempting Aroma of Art

I cover the table with plastic bags, set out the paint trays and the paint shirts.

“Are we going to do art Mommy?!” asks the 4-year old.

We’re the only ones in the kitchen while the other kids are laboring away at grammar exercises and studying science.

“Yes, we’re doing art, Goose.”

The 8-year old instantly appears in the kitchen and says, “What are you doing?”

“We’re doing art,” replies the 4-year old.

He looks at the collection of Legos, cookie cutters, and other odd bits I’ve amassed on the table beside the paint I’m squirting into trays.

“I want to do it,” he announces and dons a paint shirt.

Seconds later his 10-year old sister arrives, “Do what?”

“Art,” answers her brother.

“I want to do it, too!” she says as she grabs another shirt.

Then, like a child sniffing cookies fresh from the oven, my 12-year old follows the scent of art and claims her chair, too.

“I’d rather do art than science tests any day!” she announces.

For the next forty-five minutes we dip, mix, stamp, and admire.

Each of the kids have the same bits and baubles to work with, the same colors of paint, the same white piece of cardstock, and yet not one piece of art matches the one next to it. Piece after piece, the floor and the top of the washing machine are now covered with drying art, each a representation of the very unique being who created it.

Our breathing and minds are loose, we are doing something we are meant to do. Sure, the other tasks are waiting (and they will mostly get done) but what a gift to start here.

 

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