Yesterday my husband Dave and I thoroughly enjoyed the company of our two oldest grandchildren. Our oldest daughter, was having a heck of a time with a migraine that came out of nowhere in the early morning hours and asked if we could take the kids until at least early evening. Sure... not a problem. The holidays and all that involves is right around the corner and I know we won't see the grand-kiddos on some weekends because they'll want to go shopping in Portland. Strike while the iron is hot. Time stands still for no one. Whatever.
Since it was a beautiful sunny day, and even braving the temperatures in the mid-30's, we began our afternoon at the local playground so they could burn off a little energy. After about 45 minutes, and yours truly getting cold from bench sitting, we headed home for a late lunch. One can tell our oldest grand-kids are getting older - even though they're just over a year apart, they are so diverse from each other. Everything from music, to food, to movies. It is nearly impossible to get them to agree on something mutual. However, while my husband and grandson were being foodies in the kitchen, making some very creative muffins (and who knows what else), my granddaughter and I engaged in some art. She found a coloring book and markers in the "kid corner" of our living room and began finishing a swan picture she began last Spring.
Out of the blue she asked, "When did people begin making pictures?" Wow... like wow. In an instant, my mind went rolling back through the decades to when I was in college and a class that was required for my art degree, Art History 101. How in the world am I going to explain, centuries - if not thousands of years - of creating to a 10-year old who thinks waiting more than 10 minutes for anything is "like... forever." Old school verses uber-millennial. Ironically, we bond together like Earth and water, so I'd tried psyching myself up that this won't be too difficult.
"Well," I began, "people began drawing pictures on cave walls with burnt wood from fires, kinda like charcoal, of the animals they wanted to hunt for dinner. It was a way of communicating, planning, and praying so they would hopefully get some food."
"Was that like before you guys were born?" she asked.
"Oh no honey, it was more like after the dinosaurs left," I responded.
"Whoa, THAT long ago?" she pondered.
"Yes - then after the cave men, people moved to places like Babylon and Egypt. They used dried plants as paper, small pieces of burnt wood, and even other plants to make colored ink out of." As I was reeling this off, I couldn't help but notice how rusty my memory had gotten. "All kinds of people from way back used pictures and symbols and art work to communicate. Those symbols eventually became letters. People added sounds to the letters which became words as well as writing. Eventually, it evolved into computers, keyboards, and screens. But all this took several thousand years."
Satisfied with my answer, thank goodness, I also realized that time has truly wrought many changes. If we didn't add the words, does the picture tell it's own story? My husband agreed with me where sometimes it does; sometimes not. There are instances where words are not necessary. At other times, it adds to the picture, even when we know full well what the subject is.
The story can make pictures come alive. I had four doodles to chose from this week - one of rain drops, the second was of a sunrise over the ocean, a third was one of the seashells on one of the window sills in my studio, and finally a ladybug planter holding a Parade Rose. I chose the rose because I received it as a Mother's Day gift from my oldest daughter. I appreciate this gift a great deal because of the joy I receive when I think of my daughter and all the happy memories I have of her. My granddaughter reminds me of her as well... especially when trying to teach Art History 001!
Until next time,
Jill
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