Thoughts on Art: Alexandra's Santa and Erika's Horse

I feel like I cheated somehow. I used this new program my husband gave me on my birthday, which I finally installed on Christmas, three months after receiving the software.

The lovely edges and frame were not part of the original work. Of course, the girls could have mounted their coloring on black paper and just ripped the edges or used a gold frame. So maybe I'm over-reacting here in wanting to get this biographically correct, a raw representation of their product right now at age nine and ten.

That's a kind of obsession of mine...wanting to be biographically accurate. The obsession doesn't apply to my own art, poetry or fiction because those genres are not really "all me" or my life. I edit and edit and edit. Sure, there are auto-biographical parts, and you can deconstruct in whatever way you wish. But as we know from studying authors' lives, that's usually a waste of time. Poetry and fiction take on lives of their own.

Art does, too, but I want my children's art to be unedited. They work in first drafts. I want to remember that free-flow of ideas, the way they throw things down and are not afraid to call it art just because the details are missing. Sometimes, it's not their best work because they are tired or are under time constraints. I save only a few of those. But when they really try and have the right energy, that's when we get the best of their youthful minds.

The most interesting children's art says something about their thought process, and even in their first writing, I see extended metaphors and pertinent emotion. The characters in their stories mimic what is in their minds, as do the pictures they draw, paint and color. Not all the pictures they have drawn have been so pleasantly filled with kind men bearing gifts or horses running free in the wind. We learn a lot about children through their art, and it's not always what we want to learn.

I've always believed that expression is the best way to make sure children (and adults, for that matter) rid themselves of demons, celebrate the joy in their souls, explore imaginations, and share themselves with the world. I'm glad they have art and music programs and would like them to have even more. I give them art whenever I can....through projects and visits to museums as time allows. I am hoping time will allow this week, during the break. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day. Today, they want to spend time with their Christmas gifts. I can't blame them.

Art, creative writing and music provide so many skills that ordinary academic classes cannot: they develop coordination, senses of color and sound, vocabulary, math and spacial skills; understanding of both smaller parts and wholeness and how these all fit together. Dedicated art and music teachers are extraordinary people. The girls have had some excellent ones. Too bad these speciality teachers don't get paid enough. And it's even worse how often they are undermined, somehow deemed less equal partners in children's education. This is the plague of "specialty" teachers (and most educators) in general. 'It takes a CREATIVE village.'

I really didn't mean to get so philosophical here. Doing so is the antithesis of the child's mind which is a more concrete reflection of ideas and understanding. So I will shut up now and let their art speak for itself.

Here's me....."shutting up." LOL.

Oh Christmas Vine, Oh Chrismas Vine, How Lovely Are Your Branches

The rule is, there will be no opening of gifts until after we--that is, my husband and I--have had our coffee. Because it's still Christmas Eve morning, we can get away with such formalities. It also gives me time to get the cats and fish fed, the dog put out, the teeth brushed and...you get the picture.

The girls decided this year that they didn't want to put up the six foot, $205.00 Christmas tree. They chose, instead, a thin little tree of five feet, one we have named "The Christmas Vine." We actually DO sing "Oh Christmas Tree" to it, except we replace the word "tree" with "vine."

When I bought the Christmas Vine from Family Dollar for something like $17.50, the girls and I were living in an apartment. I was separated from my first husband. The girls were practically babies, and money was scarce. I had not yet met David, my current husband, and we were in harder times.

But when I took that tree out of the box, fluffed up the branches, added some lights and some homemade ornaments, something happened to that tree. It became ours. It has since grown roots in my heart, and so I've never wanted to get rid of it. It's part of our family history, a history of not much money but of perseverance, appreciation of little joys, and a memorial to the past.

I like that the girls didn't feel the need for the huge tree, that they wanted to hear about our less fortunate times, and that they are growing an understanding of where we are now because of those stories. They know we are not wealthy, but thank God, they have never known hunger. And they always have had a Christmas, usually more than one because of all our separate family celebrations. There is a benefit to being divorced--our children are spoiled at least three times at Christmas!

Not everyone can say this. I look at the wealth we have, the things we have been given so that we may give as well, and I say, WOW. We've come a long way from that little apartment. I've come a long way from living in a dilapidated rooming house back in my college days.

Our Christmas Vine is lovely, and our family is lovelier. May we all be able to turn our memories into trees and plant our gifts beneath them.

What We Did on the Snow Day

...an original poem typed up and emailed on an icy morning while off from school.... Understand how slowly she types and the concentration it requires to get the full effect of these efforts. Erika wrote this completely on the computer, and we edited together.


Snow
by Erika Mooney

Snow is extremely cold.
It can be packed and thrown.
It also could be a snowman.
Snow can cancel school!
Snowflakes are in many shapes and sizes.
Snow, snow, snow, I just love snow.
DO YOU LOVE SNOW????????

...an original piece typed and emailed (an arduous task), Alexandra had worked on this at school. The piece describes our...um...plump cat, Fiona. Thank you to Alexandra's fabulous teachers for bringing out the best in her writing!
My Fat Cat

My cat is huge. Dad just thinks that my cat fat, but she is not fat. So we put her on a diet and she lost two pounds, but she is still fat. My Mom just likes to pick her up and make her run, but she’s still fat. Erika thinks she needs good food, but she's still fat. I think she is cute, and she will be my cat forever even if she’s fat.

The End.
by Alex