'Into Wonder' I painted this a few years ago. I was trying to capture how I saw my youngest daughter approach life. Fully available, wide open to color and wonder. Walking into the void, full throttle, with excitement and pure presence. She had a little bear backpack and would fill it with treasures and run around her world in joy of discovery in her too-big footie pajamas, not quite right on her feet, but not caring at all. She embodied freedom and openness to all. I would watch her follow her older sister around and be so fully available for play, even if relegated to assistant, she was always a full-bodied, yes! I show this painting to my new piano students. I show them because I want them to see that I can embrace my amateur painting skills and share them, and to convey the essence of a new adventure in learning piano, and touching the excitement we all knew when we were so innocent to the world. This past week I had a chance to stay by myself in a yurt out in nature on the Oregon coast, and was able to get in touch with this little one inside me, realizing how badly she is ready to come out to play, to explore, and to meet the world with an open heart. To chip away at cynicism and despair at all the grown up problems facing our world, to stop feeling so bereft of hope and wonder. I'm sharing this today as my play, and as a reminder to myself to take in the world like I remember this precious little soft body of my daughter doing so well.
Photo by Daria Obymaha on Pexels.com Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag