Wednesday night, I was working on a completely different painting, when all of the sudden I painted out the father and launched into something entirely different. The painting of the father was the warm-up, I guess, for what was really needing to come out: Mine.
There is an intensity that comes to a mother – a protective and selfish urge to pull her babies in while pushing away all things with a slight tendency to threaten the sacred innocence of those children. I felt this today in the Post Office – a loud cell-phone-talking man dripping with bravado and attitude arrived and stood too close. I felt myself reach for the shirt of my big boy and tighten the grip on the soft hand of my little one.
In this painting, the children’s open eyes are purposeful – as I not only urge mine to grab hold of each other first in an emergency, but to also keep their eyes open and listen to their instincts.
Note: in some sense I know that my children are not “mine” in actuality, but that we have been given the great blessing of raising and protecting them…
Have a great day ~ Thank you for your communication, friendship, support and kindness.
Love & Sincerely, Katie