On a creative audience

What looking at Lego towers and crayon art and unicorn tea parties has taught me about sharing art.

“Look, Mama!”

“Mom, watch me!”

They delight to show me their dance moves and clean plates, artistic expressions and bike-riding prowess. In my weak moments, I sigh when my children pull on my sleeve or grab my face to make sure I see their latest accomplishment. Distraction is painful - when I’m pulled from my thoughts I feel myself slogging back uphill to get back to them, resentful of the little people who take up so much of my mind and heart.

However, it occurs to me that my children are teaching me about the communal nature of artistry when they show me their unicorn flying over the couch or how tall they built the Lego tower. Although I shy away from asking for an audience, they have no such qualms. They see other humans as willing participants in their artful life, they see their self-expression as necessarily worth celebrating.

Songs are just ditties when hummed to oneself, as my grandfather did in his bus of a Buick, waiting for the gas station attendant. Under-one’s-breath art…