To Be Like a Little Child
Can we go on a field trip to the nursery? I’d like a reminder on how to be as a little child.
Tag: children
Gauntlets of Mystery
And what do the gauntlets represent in the armor of God?
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Primary Vision
At the primary program…
My son is on the back row. I think I saw one of his ears.
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Bury Your Testimony
Oh, I’m just burying my testimony, like they do at church.
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Philosophical Discussion Over Spring Water
Winterborn listened to the breeze rustle through his leaves and felt the sharp chill of the spring water in his roots and the warm sun at his back. The forest hummed with all the living that seems to burst into a crescendo in the summertime.
Louder still were the footsteps that approached the spring. Winterborn opened his eyes, just enough to see the visitor. The light that filtered through his leaves made dappled patterns on the surface of the spring. A little elf with hair the color of new leaves sat on the bank of the spring, legs crossed. He nodded at Winterborn. “Father of this glen, may I share this spring?”
“The spring is here for all who are in need, child.” Winterborn watched as the elf took a small white cup by the handle and dipped it in the spring, leaving rings of ripples.
The elf sipped the water and smiled. “The water is sweet.”
“Perhaps.”
A butterfly landed on one of the blossoms of a nearby bush. The elf put down his cup and leaned forward to look more closely. “Two delicate and beautiful creatures. Sisters in spirit, both at the height of their beauty.”
Winterborn shook his branches in laughter. Elves loved poetry and appearances. “I don’t think that’s quite right. One would have to be the younger sister, yet to reach her metamorphosis.”
The elf turned the cup in his hands. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s a berry bush. The blossom is like a caterpillar, waiting for its change into the bright berry.”
“But a berry isn’t as lovely as a blossom,” the elf protested. “The blossom is so delicate and fleeting, more like the lovely butterfly.”
“Many think that children are more charming than adults. They are certainly more delicate. But I think that the squirrel and the rabbit who visit this bush in late summer would be happy to debate with you over the loveliness of the berries.”
“So flowers are like caterpillars?” The elf looked at the blossoms suspiciously. “That just doesn’t seem right.”
“It depends on the flower. All fruit comes from flowers, but that does not mean that all flowers become fruits.”
The elf watched the butterfly float on the breeze and choose another blossom to land on. “Do some butterflies become something else?”
“No, butterflies are like flowers that never grow into anything else.” Winterborn stretched out his branches just a tiny bit further into the sunlight.
“Like children who won’t grow up?” The elf was still watching the butterfly.
“No, like elves or trees that grow to the right size and then don’t change at all.”
“Ah.” The elf sipped his spring water and was quiet for a while.
A stronger breeze swept through the glade around the spring, scattering a few loose leaves and whisking the butterfly away.
The elf looked up from his cup. “But should we change and become something better?”
Winterborn’s branches shook again in laughter. “Can’t we become better without becoming something else?”
“But the butterfly and the berry blossom…” The elf began, and then paused as if uncertain what he wanted to say next.
“The butterfly and the berry blossom are not trees or elves or rabbits or squirrels. They have their growth to attend to just as we have ours. If there is life and growth and improvement, does it matter that it looks different for each one?”
The elf smiled and put his cup away. “Truly you are wise, father tree.”
“Perhaps. I have had more years to stand and think. Your wisdom will come if you continue to think and ask questions.”
The elf stood. “May I come again?”
“The spring is here for all who are in need, child.”
The elf walked away, back the way he came. Winterborn closed his eyes and listened to the breeze rustle through his leaves and felt the sharp chill of the spring water in his roots.
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Art Projects with Children
When you have small children at home and you are trying to practice your art, they will most likely want to practice with you. Unfortunately, small children have a way of breaking your focus and concentration and making terrible messes. So, it’s hard to practice art with them and really get much done at the same time.
So, how do you add children to your art practice? In some ways, this depends on the needs of the child. Small children require more attention, but they get bored with the project much more quickly. Older children might need a prompt and a little bit of instruction, but then you can both work side-by-side with few interruptions.
Some of the art my daughters have created when we paint and draw together
When children are small, it might be a good idea to have some inexpensive art materials on hand so they don’t destroy yours. It takes a while of reminding kids not to smash their brushes into the page before they remember. They also use a lot more paint than they need on their paintings. Especially if you happen to have their favorite color.
Cardboard boxes make nice art desks. A paper plate can be a palette. I dispense the paint so that they don’t use the whole tube. They paint happily for a few minutes. If they’re painting, I usually pause my project and paint with them. When the paint on the plate is gone, we’re done. It goes quickly.
With my older child who loves art, she likes a prompt of what she should draw. She also likes to look over my shoulder and ask questions about what I’m doing and why and how. If I’m sketching something, she may pull out her sketchbook and sketch the same thing and compare pictures.
The young artists in our home
After the painting or sketching or prompt following, or if they’ve completed a project on their own or at school, they all want to know the same thing. They show me their picture and ask, “What do you think?”
What they really want to know is, “Is this good? Am I an artist? Am I getting any better?”
I look at my own pictures and wonder the same thing.
I tell them, “That’s really good. You are a wonderful artist. I can tell you’re getting better.” Because it’s true. I think it’s true for me, too. I hope so.
I also find something they did well and point it out. They are happy and I’m happy. Sometimes they give me the picture and I hang it up on the fridge. Sometimes I put it away with the schoolwork I’ve saved. Sometimes they keep it or give it to a friend or a teacher.
There are times when they ask and I’m in the middle of a project and I say we’ll paint or sketch later. And sometimes it doesn’t happen later because something else comes up. It’s hard to change focus and pause sometimes. That’s okay, I think, as long as there are the other times where we do spend time together.
I’ve been nurtured and encouraged as an artist, and it’s good to pass that on to other artists. Who better than my children? The beginning of learning anything can be messy, but it can be fun too. As long as I make sure I have time where I can focus without being interrupted, it’s good to be able to paint and draw with my children, too.
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