i love anne’s artwork. to look at it, you wouldn’t notice anything special, just a large coloured blob most likely. but i’ve watched her process from beginning to end, and i know that those colourful blobs are the pictures from her imagination inside a candy coating. anne carefully draws her subjects (my favourites are the fat people with belly buttons and huge smiles) and then painstakingly colours in every detail with the same colour until all of the lines are blurred and all that remains is a marker puddle on a piece of paper. she proudly presents her finished drawing, and then gives it a place of honour on our fridge among all of the other artwork that hasn’t yet made it into the kids’ artwork binders. my fridge is covered with elaborate castles, happy families, dragons, puppies and characters from movies; but they’re all undercover. unless i take the time to invest in the making of anne’s artwork, i miss all of the details that make it great.
on sunday derek dropped anne and me off at a senior’s building not too far from our house, to check out a fibre arts exhibit that was being hosted there. anne left a wake of adoring fans as we made our way past the lounge and toward the basement. hand in hand we inspected every piece of artwork that hung on the walls, discussed our favourites and chatted with one of the artists. we made our way home afterwards in the snow storm, racing each other and having snowball fights; and the combination of an art show and girl time made me realize the relationship between anne and art, and the relationship between anne and me. anne and i are tight, and as far as mother/daughter relationships go, i’d say we’ve got an awesome one. but a little more investment in the process on my part, and suddenly i was seeing the details and how wonderfully complicated my little anne is. she is a beautiful work of art, and the more i watch her being formed, the more wonderful the finished piece will be.