I grew up as sporty spice. “Soccer is Life” is definitely a t-shirt that I wore and loved, and I lived into this identity for years. Even convinced my husband, in the dating times, that I was outdoors-y. But I would never have claimed “artsy” as a quality I had. I’ve always loved to write, but creating art was never really a thing I did. And when I did do it, for a required art class, it was certifiably terrible. I wish I had the proof to post here. Alas, to the trash it went.
But as I have aged and changed, I notice my love for art is growing.
I first started to realize my need when EBug was a newborn. My routine was totally devoid of creative expression, and I felt my brain turning to mush. I needed art. I think that we all do.
I think it can take many forms from an interest in fashion to planning lessons for preschoolers. But whatever form it takes, it enriches life, and I think that children may know this better than any of us.
EBug is at a stage where her imagination is exploding. Her cup runneth over with words and ideas and creativity, and it is one of the neatest things I have experienced as a mom to watch this unfold and to foster it in any small way.
So we now spend a little time each day doing something art-y. These types of activities are always a hit, but I think E’s interest in such things presented big time yesterday, when she begged me to take her to an art museum. Begged. Of course, a puppet came with us. Abstract art is so kid friendly. We are going to use some of these pieces as inspiration.