OK, so I may have created a monster. Well, not a monster, per say, but the girl has decided she wants to paint, too.
In the last year and a half, I have been doing oil painting. I have finished a dozen or so canvases and many of them are not bad, so I’ve been told.
A few months ago, the girl said she wanted to do a painting for her Reflections project at school. I said OK, and sat her at the easel, squeezed out some paints (acrylic for her) and explained to her what little I know about how to put a painting together. It turned out pretty good, but she didn’t win any official recognition. She was crushed, having been certain that her depiction of two friends building a cabin in the forest was the perfect illustration of “working together,” which was this year’s theme.
On Friday, when I picked her up for the weekend, she told me that the local hospital was holding an art contest to show kids doing active stuff to stay healthy. The entry was $2 and the prize was a Wii (which is kinda ironic, ’cause the winner will be a little less active with a Wii in the house). So I set her up on Saturday with a new canvas, paints and a new set of brushes and she set to work.
Three hours later, she had a finished product; girls playing soccer, with a nod toward LeRoy Neiman. Here is it, along with the photo she bassed her work on:
When we were cleaning up afterward, I asked her for entry form to make sure everything was kosher and read the following: “Gwinnett Medical Center Coloring Contest. Entries should be submitted on an 8 ½ x 11 sheet of white paper.”
She was so determined to make up for her first painting not winning something she missed the fact that this was a coloring contest, to be done on paper with crayons or markers, not an “art” contest, open to all mediums.
When I explained this to her, I could see her heart drop. And then she got angry, more at herself than anything else, but she wouldn’t admit to it. She spent most of the night grumbling about how it wasn’t right. Eventually, I got her calmed down and we were laughing about it as I tucked her into bed.
But she did vow to get back at the Gwinnett Medical Center, somehow, although I’m sure I’ll be able to talk her out of that eventually.