The wonderment of an 8-year-old mind

I have to say, we have come a long way. From psychotic crayon drawings, to indefinable scribbled shapes found all over our now 8-year-old son’s drawing pages. What about that time in first grade when he colored everything purple? Purple faces, purple trees, purple sun. These past five years, my hersband (Shannon) and I have undertook a color-training quest. We decided to guide and nurture his artistic side. The three of us hold coloring competitions in our home most evenings after dinner. Of course I always win–especially when Shannon doesn’t compete. As our boy grows into his own personality he is starting to exhibit confidence in his drawings, I find this to be a cool and interesting quality. I am that mom that throws out the important school’s newsweekly letters and fundraiser stuff into the trash bin, but rather dig deep to the bottom of his school backpack to find his homework first and then…at the very bottom of his ever dirty and crumb-filled backpack, will be a bunch of crumpled drawings. Recently, I noticed a ‘Before’ and ‘After’ colored-in drawing he had brought home and left laying on the messy floor of his bedroom. The one drawing is torn at one corner and both pages looked like they just escaped the impending doom that happens to most of his drawings–crumpled and neglected.


This above picture, after staring at both the before and after, I realized how, even when rushing through his work and getting answers correct, still did not make the drawing completely done in his mind, yet I am tickled that his after picture is daintily and perfectly colored yet answers are not filled in. The picture to the left is my favorite of the two.


He also has little caricatures that I find to be so funny yet expressive of what goes on in his 8-year-old brain. His DNA, unfortunately, carried from both paternal and maternal sides shows zero traces of art creations…with respect to drawing and sketching only. This boy is learning and adapting to something that he truly does enjoy doing, inspired by my hersband and his big ‘bad-ass’ teenage cousin. With a pen in his little left hand, Shannon allows him to pen all types of ‘tattoos’ on her solid, masculine, light-skinned canvas of a back. As far as he is concerned, this is a serious competition held by all little kids at Shannon’s work. So he takes this ‘tattooing’ very seriously especially knowing that my hersband brags about his art at her work. It’s been five years since the beginning of this never-ending competition and he has “won” some and lost some.

The painting below is my favorite. It’s a water color painting.


You see, we are not overly concerned on whether he becomes an artist or not in the future, we care that he takes time and shows care about what he is about to ink.


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