{Not Too Spooky}

I've been told that a child can be analyzed by careful observation of his or her artwork. A child that feels safe and secure will portray himself with open fingers, while an insecure or frightened child will draw balled-up fists on the ends of his stick figures. I've not studied this further, but the idea intrigues me.

My girl typically draws the cliche rainbow, meadow and wildflower pictures you'd expect from a child. A tree on the left, the sun in the upper right hand corner. No balled up fists. God's in His heaven and all's right with the world.

But occasionally I do happen across fanged creatures and other gruesome caricatures. For some reason, a dragon or Ninja from Aidan doesn't cause me to bat a lash. But when Miss Kate produces the grim, it catches me off guard. What am I to make of it?

A recent work, hastily sketched in colored pencil, appeared on my desk. It was not sunshine and roses, but a charming little phantom.


Miss Kate, aware that I don't tend to embrace creatures from the dark side, added the reassuring title, "Not Tooo Spooky!"

According to the artist, the specter earned this distinction for two reasons:

1. His speech bubble says "hi." He's polite and welcoming.

2. He has fire coming from his rear end. Apparently this, too, lends a certain charm to ghosts. (I had no idea.)

So if you're ever approached by a phantom who greets you with a chipper "Hello!" and has fire issuing from his hind quarters, fear not. This ghost is not too spooky. You'll be just fine.


P.S. I am a little hesitant to hand this piece of artwork over for psychoanalysis. Let's just say this confident girl has a unique streak of creativity. Which is certainly nothing to be scared of. I hope.

Dancing Shadows

The longer the kids are cooped up, the more creative they get. Of course I don't want them to remain cooped up in an attempt to foster more creativity, it's just an observation. In fact, we just might make it out of the house in the next day or two (as long as I can keep my own sniffles at bay . . .).

But the kids are finally healthy and have recently discovered a new diversion. The other day, in an attempt to do something mathematical with a rather contrary five-year-old, I pulled out the overhead projector. (You know you're a homeschool mom when your last thoughts before drifting off to sleep are, "Ooooooh! Overhead! That will be fun!")

So out it came, along with the pattern blocks. She was thrilled with the idea of seeing her patterns projected onto the living room wall. I had been keenly aware of the fact that there is still absolutely no artwork on that particular wall in our home. But maybe that's not such a bad thing for now. Hexagons and triangles, parallelograms and squares danced shadows across the void, projecting the visions of my child's mind.

Aidan was sick the day I pulled out the projector, so he wasn't aware of the new activity. Poor thing -- the next morning, when he was himself again, he saw it sitting in the living room and asked, "Was I gone yesterday?" I reminded him that he had spent the day on the couch. The light of recollection dawned, and he merrily plopped down in front of the screen to create.

The kids have continued to create for the last few days. At first they followed very basic quilt-like patterns, adhering to pattern block "rules." That is, the shapes fit nicely together, lying flat on the surface.

Today, however, Aidan realized that he could think outside of the box. He proved that what appears on the glass screen might look a bit unconventional -- blocks stacked and askew. But when projected by the light, it is transformed into a work of art. And that's how he made people.



But not just any people. Rolfe and Liesl people. Dancing. With a telegram.



That's my boy.