.
Field trip time to our local art museum. It's been a while and none of my younger boys were excited. I needed a break from nerf guns, gray days and indoor sword fighting. It's called a command performance, "We are going and you will be happy."
Thankfully my 21 year old son had the day off and he was interested... it's amazing how quickly younger boys' perspectives are wont to shift into alignment with an older and respected male's perspective.
There were two exhibits, one on the influence of Japanese art on Impressionism and one on the work of Norman Rockwell. The Japanese art was a huge hit with all my kiddos. Katana sword guards in a Japanese/Art Nouveau style. Who knew?
There seem to be swords where-so-ever I go.
Beauty. Everywhere. My soul drank in the Mary Cassatt painting of chubby toddler arms wrapped around a mother's neck. I could feel the warmth of that toddler's arms on my own skin, I could imagine his powdery crayony smell; the colors of the painting bathed my eyes in much needed anti-February balm.
Next gallery. Try explaining this painting to your 6 year old son.
I tried and teared up. He found it utterly inconceivable that grown-ups would throw tomatoes at a little girl in a pretty dress. I am profoundly glad he finds that inconceivable.
Of course my boys did not disappoint. They had their own observations. Upon entering the gallery filled with Japanese artwork my 6 year old paused and stood and turned slowly with awe in every inch of his body. I felt pride at my small art connoisseur and knelt down beside him to hear what thoughts were flooding him. He turned to me with wonder and said, "Mom, there are 6 hidden security cameras," and pointing he slowly turned and counted them off with precision, "one, two, three, four, five, six."
Later that evening during dinner I was trying to show off what a fabulous mother I am for my husband. I asked the boys to tell their father about our day. "We went to McDonald's and got ice cream," was my 6 year old's contribution. Great. Homeschooling at it's best.
I tried again, this time prompting, "Tell your dad about the favorite thing you saw at THE MUSEUM today." This time my 7 year old complied, "Dad, they have this incredible staircase. I loved the staircase."
And he did. While we were at the museum he begged me to photograph him on the balcony overlooking the staircase.
I don't give up. We will continue to go to the museum- my enthusiasm was bolstered by my 12 year old son's comment as we headed home. "That wasn't nearly as boring as I thought it would be, in fact it was kind of fun."
Field trip time to our local art museum. It's been a while and none of my younger boys were excited. I needed a break from nerf guns, gray days and indoor sword fighting. It's called a command performance, "We are going and you will be happy."
Thankfully my 21 year old son had the day off and he was interested... it's amazing how quickly younger boys' perspectives are wont to shift into alignment with an older and respected male's perspective.
There were two exhibits, one on the influence of Japanese art on Impressionism and one on the work of Norman Rockwell. The Japanese art was a huge hit with all my kiddos. Katana sword guards in a Japanese/Art Nouveau style. Who knew?
There seem to be swords where-so-ever I go.
Beauty. Everywhere. My soul drank in the Mary Cassatt painting of chubby toddler arms wrapped around a mother's neck. I could feel the warmth of that toddler's arms on my own skin, I could imagine his powdery crayony smell; the colors of the painting bathed my eyes in much needed anti-February balm.
Next gallery. Try explaining this painting to your 6 year old son.
I tried and teared up. He found it utterly inconceivable that grown-ups would throw tomatoes at a little girl in a pretty dress. I am profoundly glad he finds that inconceivable.
Of course my boys did not disappoint. They had their own observations. Upon entering the gallery filled with Japanese artwork my 6 year old paused and stood and turned slowly with awe in every inch of his body. I felt pride at my small art connoisseur and knelt down beside him to hear what thoughts were flooding him. He turned to me with wonder and said, "Mom, there are 6 hidden security cameras," and pointing he slowly turned and counted them off with precision, "one, two, three, four, five, six."
Later that evening during dinner I was trying to show off what a fabulous mother I am for my husband. I asked the boys to tell their father about our day. "We went to McDonald's and got ice cream," was my 6 year old's contribution. Great. Homeschooling at it's best.
I tried again, this time prompting, "Tell your dad about the favorite thing you saw at THE MUSEUM today." This time my 7 year old complied, "Dad, they have this incredible staircase. I loved the staircase."
And he did. While we were at the museum he begged me to photograph him on the balcony overlooking the staircase.
I don't give up. We will continue to go to the museum- my enthusiasm was bolstered by my 12 year old son's comment as we headed home. "That wasn't nearly as boring as I thought it would be, in fact it was kind of fun."
.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment