Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Trees are dying all over North America, but I don't care

Way back last winter, I posted an entry about Elegant's art/aerobics. When the girl does art at her easel, which is permanently cocked, locked, and ready to rock, she also jumps up and down. Constantly.

Hard to imagine? Let me help you: Imagine a six-year-old, a cute one, maybe one who looks like this:


Now put her in front of an easel.

As this child is drawing, have her jump up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down.

Get the picture?

This happens EVERY SINGLE DAY of Elegant's life. She makes art and jumps simultaneously. For at least an hour, often as much as two or three. Did I mention that she does it every day? It's a huge part of her life and it's how she blows off steam and generally deals with whatever issues are flitting around in her brain.

(I think it's safe to assume that Elegant's heart and lungs are in excellent shape. )

So the making of the art is very important to the artist. She uses a lot of paper, but we recycle it after she's done, so my conscience doesn't hurt that much over the dead trees.

Last week, disaster struck. Someone, oh I don't know who, maybe the artist's mother, didn't notice that the artist's paper supply was low. So low that Elegant actually ran out.

No paper.

Crisis.

What's a girl to do?

Elegant actually paced back and forth and flapped her wings a bit when she discovered that she was out of art paper. She simply did not know what to do.

There was a stack of 8.5 x 11 paper on the desk three feet away. Granted, Elegant usually works on a larger scale, but I told her that paper is paper. She was unconvinced that this would work. Eventually, however, she realized that tough times call for desperate measures and that she'd have to use the smaller paper until the larger stuff could be obtained. She urged me to go to the store soon.

So for five days, Elegant had nothing to work with except normal sized paper. She did have a large selection from which to choose: white, various colors, lined, and even some with fancy borders. She made do and used what was available. A lot of it. Dozens of pages. She went through at least three new legal pads, plus loads of other stuff. She'd fill a piece of paper, flip it over to fill the other side, and then toss it aside like a used tissue. She'd get a new piece of paper and the cycle would begin anew.

Every day for five days, Elegant would ask me when I'd be getting more paper for her easel. For five days I put her off because I was busy with one thing or another.

Finally, today, we got new paper. Three oversized sketch pads just waiting to be filled. Upon our triumphant return home, Elegant headed straight for her easel and set up shop. Soon, the sound of jumping could be heard throughout the house and large pieces of paper began to cover the floor.

3 comments:

MizMell said...

So when are you going to share one of Elegant's masterpieces? Pictures, please.

Jennifer said...

Mizmell, I have a confession to make. In general, we don't save Elegant's art. It's mostly therapeutic and not really meant for the front of a fridge, plus, she literally produces dozens of drawings every week. It's just too much for us to save.

That said, we do keep some of El's art. In school, the art teacher keeps all of the children's works all year in a portfolio, which then comes home in June. From that selection, we choose a couple of our favorites and frame them for a gallery in one of our stairwells. Other works are hung in the girls' rooms.

I'll try to scan a couple of things and will post if they turn out well.

OpenBook Jen said...

Art as exercise! Now THERE'S a concept I can get behind!