Terri Jean in Collage

My Aunt is in a coma.

She is improving and I hear that she is slowly, slowly coming around. Making hopeful little steps towards waking. I am thinking about her, sending her a lot of love and long-distance encouragement and connectivity and feeling nostalgic. I made this collage about her five years ago, during a random online obsession with collaging those who have been influential in my life. She was a wonderful aunt to a little girl with wide eyes. She fed me amazing, exciting things, lived the vibrant expression of an artist in front of me and was the carefree, silly kind of warmth that I still copy in crowded rooms.

Tonight I am thinking of her and rooting for her and telling the world how much she means to me! Come on out, Aunt Terri! We love you so!
xoxo
Your loving niece,
 

And Then One Day He Drew His Daddy

I love the stage where my child's art starts getting representational. I love it for the same reason I love hearing their first clear words, not because art or language starts there but because me understanding them starts there. My kids have all happily colored and scribbled away from the time that they can first hold a pen. We do very little coloring book play at our house, and the boys almost exclusively attack blank pages with whatever is at hand.

The first experimentation with color and line is lovely but the step into portraying life more visibly feels significant to me. The first thing Ru drew that was clearly decipherable was a balloon. A happy first choice. Dee, has hit the stage with a human subject no less, a portrait of his daddy.

 Love that great big smile, the long, thin legs and the open, spidery arms that are reaching hug-style clear off the page. Oh, to be a symbolism soaked art therapist and be able to dig significant meaning out of these little things, tiny windows into the inner boy.