Around my birthday I often think about why I started this blog.
The doorbell rings at art camp and it is a parent picking up two hours early.
We are in the middle of something very serious. You may come in but you will have to be silent.
On the floor, lying side by side, are all 10 children. Towels are covering their bodies to the neck. Towels are covering their heads to the lips. At first glance it looks alarmingly like an odd morgue.
The mom has a good sense of humour but I can feel her wondering wtf.
Finishing up a workshop the other day, two seven year olds remained in the studio.
One had wanted to add a kitty to her Family Tree because they had gotten a kitty since she completed her Tree with me last summer
The one with no cats looked at other’s tree and said Where is your dad? Why isn’t he in the Family Tree?
Without missing a beat, she responded, I don’t have a dad.