death to art

as my daughter prepares for her art exhibit at the library, she's been exploring new techniques, attempting new larger paintings, and after the botanical gardens, painted a lovely landscape in a way i've never seen her able to execute before.

i return home to a redeyed daughter last night and asked what was wrong. apparently the chosen punishment for not cleaning her room is a painting prohibition.

this takes me so far back to the days when i was budding and my dad, all thumbs and left feet where children were concerned, thought to effect some type of lesson learning--which the lesson i got was not the lesson he intended.

mind you, this is not me and my dad. my husband is nothing if not a good dad, but i do not agree here.

you can tell me all day long, we're all artists and we need to learn balance, but this is a child who has a gift. i've gone back and forth about the messy room thing, wrung my hands, enforced my will and finally, i just don't look in there, because when i do, oh my god. i hate it.

i see the flaws in my argument.

i know it is not perfect, but how often have you had to prepare for an art show? there will always be a day to clean the room. believe me, the mess will still be there.

she said to me the other day,

i have to paint every day, because june is next month.

yes, love.

i just keep buying paints and brushes and fresh canvi.

she burns through them demonstrating technique i did not know she knew.

of course some come out better than others, and not all are going to be displayed, but much of what she has done recently is fresh and lovely. unexpected.

she wanted some pallet knives, to try a technique, and she executed a lovely black horse on the cliff of a ravine (i call him the fire breathing horse, because it looks like he has a lick of flame coming out of his mouth), but his mane is windswept and most of it is done with knives. i've not seen her successfully execute this method and i'm pleased she finally has.

she reinterpreted the firebreathing horse in watercolours, and it is even more lovely with mingling hues of turqouise and pumpkin orange. though no fire from the black horse this time.

painting after painting, she labors the day away.

is this not education? is this not why i homeschool?

artists neglect lesser obligations at times (i promise you, the room will still be dirty in june), to tend to the pressing demands of the muse.

now in june, i may agree that painting need be laid aside to clean the room. but not now. not in this rush and frenzy of technique and inspiration. at least someone in this house is creating.

that does my heart good.

the exhibit will be called

a girl and her horses.

i may try to scan the works and bind them as a requerdo. and if she wishes, to gift them to loved ones.

who knows what will come of this, but i'm so smitten by her works, not simply because she's my child, mind you, though that plays no small part, but because she is expressing something epic.

little hands, taking up paints and brushes because they want to, not because i've ever told her to. i've simply laid the bits and pieces within reach, and she has taken them up.

it's a wonder to behold, really.

and i won't see it checked and curtailed.