Sunday, June 8th, 2014
3 years, 6 months.
It is so interesting to see your artwork in this sort of transition stage, as your skills are maturing and your concepts of art are becoming more realized.
As I walked into your class last Tuesday to pick you up from school, you were working on a drawing.
I insisted you finish it before we left.
Naturally, I asked, “Wow, Jack, are those people?”
You replied in a sort of matter of fact manner, “No, they’re giants. And that one in the middle is a baby giant.”
Seriously, I love that creativity.
Eventually, the “giants” you will draw will have bodies to connect to their legs, instead of just having their legs connect to their chins.
And one day, your giants will have mouths too; not just two little eyes mysteriously peeping out.
As for now, though, these are your giants. I’m assuming that had these been people instead of giants, they would have much shorter legs; even shorter that the baby giant’s.
You really blew me away with another recent picture you drew at school, too:
I had to ask your teacher to make sure you didn’t have any help with this one of a fish.
Honestly, I’m not sure that I could have drawn one as detailed as this. And you didn’t have a picture to mimic, either. I’m guessing you just remember seeing it at the pet store a few weeks ago.
You’re starting to give me this idea where I write a children’s book and you illustrate it.
Before long, I think that idea could really get off the ground.
You keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll keep doing what I’m doing… and let’s just see where it takes us.
We might end up making an alright father-son writer-illustrator team…
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Saturday, June 1st, 2013
2 years, 6 months.
Yesterday for our Friday afternoon routine where I take you to the park during my lunch break, I decided to make it extra special and go monster-truckin’ with you.
By that, I mean that we pretended our Craig’s List-purchased jogging stroller was a monster truck as we ransacked our way through the park.
By “ransacked,” I mean that we made screeching tires noises as I popped wheelies, rushed you down hills, and pretended like I was about to crash you into trees.
We stopped in the middle of a bridge over troubled water to look for fish. Being that it had just rained, I knew our chances weren’t that good.
But then you yelled out in excitement, “It’s Dimo! I see Dimo, Daddy!”
I had no idea what you were talking about. All I saw was an orange leaf stuck on a log in the middle of the creek.
When I took you back to school, your teacher Ms. Lauren asked you what you did with Daddy at the park.
You shyly looked down and smiled: “I saw Dimo.”
Ms. Lauren responded the same way I did, thinking you were talking about Barney the Dinosaur, as you typically refer to him as “Dino.”
You corrected us, as well as Mommy, once we got home: “No, Dimo!”
During bath time, you talked to Mommy more about seeing Dimo with me at the park.
“I thought it was a fish, but it was just an orange leaf,” you explained.
It wasn’t until this afternoon when Mommy and I took you to Kohl’s to help pick out your cousin Calla’s birthday gifts that we understood.
There was a plush Nemo doll next to some Spiderman action figures.
“Dimo! I found him!”
And that’s when the light bulb went off. “Dimo” is Nemo. You found Nemo.
More importantly, you thought you saw him with me yesterday.
That’s why you were so excited with me at the park- you thought you saw Nemo in the water.
I’m learning to speak your language… the language of “2 and a half-year old.”
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