You woke up early the other morning and walked downstairs into my office, where I was working far too early myself. You entered with a mess of hair and hands up blocking the overhead office light from your eyes. You crashed into me and said, “I need to make art.”
That is the sign of a true artist: waking up and needing to make art.
I said, “OK, what do you want to do?”
“I’m going to go paint,” you replied, and then you stumbled away as your body was still waking up. You weren’t really excited to make art. It wasn’t a chore either, but something you just had to do.
I get it. Sometimes you have to get something out of your head: an idea, anxiety, a song… art.
You painted a mermaid and got on with the rest of your day.
You’re staying busy into the fall, making a little less time for art and making you crash harder at the end of the day. In addition to the work week of school, you’re signed up for swimming and art at the YMCA and have plenty of playdates. You express your moments of resulting exhasution through outbursts towards Matteo or baby crying and squealing. Those aren’t my and Mom’s favorite moments to manage, but it’s a phase. I don’t always manage my own tiredness much better.
Last night, after swim lessons, Mom and I caved at the grocery store and got a large slice of cake for dessert. When we got home, you and Matteo dropped your faces into that cake out of some combination of excitement, hunger and being too tired to hold your heads up and eat like civilized little kids. The sugar crash was immediate. No whining session or delays to get into bed.
I’m sure you had big dreams about art as you woke up the next day with more work to put on paper.
Love, Dad