Seven summers ago, on the recommendation of a friend whose opinion we value, we invested in an art camp for Mary Hannah. It was so good that when the chance to participate came around the next summer, we jumped. And while those lessons didn’t magically morph our girl into Monet, they did pay off in a blue ribbon at Fair, and what has proved to be an enduring enjoyment of playing with various media that continues to this day.
When John Mark began expressing frustration that his “guys” look different on paper than they do in his head, it was only natural that he would turn to his big sister for help. While Jack is our most natural talent in the realm of sketching and painting, it’s Mary Hannah who gravitates most readily to the role of teacher. And with our school days in break mode, it was obvious that a few hours would be filled with sketching.
As you can see, John Mark wasn’t yet satisfied with the results of his labors. (Being taught to make light strokes and how to visualize larger images in smaller shapes wasn’t what he had in mind when he sat down to draw that amazing burning building being scaled by firefighting ninjas.) But, like life, art is a work in progress. This season of Mary Hannah being home has lent itself to a few stolen hours, here and there, of relaxing alongside the family in between long hours buried in birthing texts and practicing needle skills on ripe oranges. So I suspect that a few more lessons can be squeezed in this month — lessons where circles become faces. And who knows? Maybe John Mark will be yet another one of our children who totes art supplies from place to place, just in case.