Curiosity
I woke up this morning peacefully and gradually with the sun — the perfect Indian Summer. I love waking up like that after a long night's sleep. I always feel so rejuvenated and revived. On mornings like this I have two potentially conflicting desires: (1) Get up and go hiking! or (2) Paint.
Sunny days are perfect for both activities. I really wanted to go hiking, but I needed to work on a painting for the Fine Arts evening I'm participating in for Institute.
I decided to paint today. The only problem I currently have is that the best room light-wise to paint in is my bedroom. I prefer to paint in the living room (thus avoiding unwanted and totally preventable headaches). As I was painting I had just about finished one picture when I ran out of yellow ocher. I had some of a different brand and decided to use it. Bad choice. It was far too dark, a totally different shade. So, off to the paint store I rushed. I think I forgot to mention: I basically rolled out of bed and put on my painting clothes, I was far from presentable. So, before I headed out I threw on a pair of jeans and bushed my teeth. I left the painting shirt and apron on, however.
When I got to the art store I headed straight for the paintbrushes and paints, one of the clerks came up to me to offer assistance, she took quick stock of me and said, "You look like you know what you're doing. Is there anything I can help you find?" I smiled, how could I not?
I ended up buying one paint brush (which I knew I was going to buy anyway) and a large tube of paint. I've never purchased such a large tube (200 mL), but, then, I've started painting monstrously large canvases, so I need more paint these days.
After I came home and finished the painting I had to run out to my car. One of my neighbors and her father were out there blowing soap bubbles. It was so precious to watch her enthusiasm and wonder as she discovered the bubbles. Her father asked if I wanted to have a turn. I joined in.
They asked me what I was working on, as I was still wearing the apron. I told them I was painting. The little girl asked what I was painting on and I contemplated just telling her "paper", but then I stopped myself. Why deny her the opportunity to learn? "Canvas" I told her. She asked what that was, and I tried to explain it. Then I said, "Do you want to see?" (Her father seemed very interested in what I was painting anyway.) She jumped at the chance, and into my apartment they came. I showed her paintings and canvases and hanging wire. She was soaking it all in. At one point she asked me what something was and her father said, "You'll be at this all day." I smiled, "I don't mind."
I wonder how many times we (as society) retard insatiable childhood curiosity because we are too busy, too tired, too whatever to keep answering questions. I'm sure when I get around to having children I'll probably fall into the same trap, but I can hope I don't, can't I?
I can also hope that I remain as curious.
Sunny days are perfect for both activities. I really wanted to go hiking, but I needed to work on a painting for the Fine Arts evening I'm participating in for Institute.
I decided to paint today. The only problem I currently have is that the best room light-wise to paint in is my bedroom. I prefer to paint in the living room (thus avoiding unwanted and totally preventable headaches). As I was painting I had just about finished one picture when I ran out of yellow ocher. I had some of a different brand and decided to use it. Bad choice. It was far too dark, a totally different shade. So, off to the paint store I rushed. I think I forgot to mention: I basically rolled out of bed and put on my painting clothes, I was far from presentable. So, before I headed out I threw on a pair of jeans and bushed my teeth. I left the painting shirt and apron on, however.
When I got to the art store I headed straight for the paintbrushes and paints, one of the clerks came up to me to offer assistance, she took quick stock of me and said, "You look like you know what you're doing. Is there anything I can help you find?" I smiled, how could I not?
I ended up buying one paint brush (which I knew I was going to buy anyway) and a large tube of paint. I've never purchased such a large tube (200 mL), but, then, I've started painting monstrously large canvases, so I need more paint these days.
After I came home and finished the painting I had to run out to my car. One of my neighbors and her father were out there blowing soap bubbles. It was so precious to watch her enthusiasm and wonder as she discovered the bubbles. Her father asked if I wanted to have a turn. I joined in.
They asked me what I was working on, as I was still wearing the apron. I told them I was painting. The little girl asked what I was painting on and I contemplated just telling her "paper", but then I stopped myself. Why deny her the opportunity to learn? "Canvas" I told her. She asked what that was, and I tried to explain it. Then I said, "Do you want to see?" (Her father seemed very interested in what I was painting anyway.) She jumped at the chance, and into my apartment they came. I showed her paintings and canvases and hanging wire. She was soaking it all in. At one point she asked me what something was and her father said, "You'll be at this all day." I smiled, "I don't mind."
I wonder how many times we (as society) retard insatiable childhood curiosity because we are too busy, too tired, too whatever to keep answering questions. I'm sure when I get around to having children I'll probably fall into the same trap, but I can hope I don't, can't I?
I can also hope that I remain as curious.
posted by granola girl at 10:37 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home