I’m not an artist. Just a mom of three.
The only art I see, honestly, are the crayon drawings on my refrigerator door and sculptures made of Play-Doh.
I couldn’t tell a watercolor from a pastel, a Carravagio from a Rembrandt, art deco from pop art.
But … I am noticing lately, an art that pervades my life, every waking hour of it.
This art of playing.
Have you seen a 4-year-old play tea party, pour what’s not there, drink what’s invisible, and strike up delightful conversations with her dutiful but sweetly mismatched love-worn company?
Have you seen a child scale a dirt mound? The way she climbs and slips, her knees bravely to the dust, dust all in her shoes, dragging a mesmerizing trail of swirls and streaks in the earth?
Have you seen a cardboard box rocket through the galaxy, sail across the ocean, race in the Grand Prix, provide a home for a heart-broken teddy bear?
Have you seen this kind of art?
The satisfied smile of a ten-year-old as he builds Lego creations, a hundred different genius ways, unbridled by instruction and practicality?
The look of pure confidence in the eyes of an eight-year-old as he strategically sets up a squad of miniature army men around pillows and other random items on his bedroom floor, in order to save the world from wild enemy forces?
Have you seen this?
This art of playing?
Fresh expressions of freedom??
Framed only by imagination, motivated by this simple permission to be wholly content in our uniqueness, undisturbed by audience and the need to be art?
Art that almost seems to echo, in a small and imperfect way, the effortless beauty of the One who created everything out of nothing?
Have you seen this art of playing? I’m beginning to think it can still be everywhere.
Because perhaps, it’s still in us, after all.
(But again, I’m not an artist. Just a mom. So what do I know? :))
What art do you see in your everyday life?