“You should be an artist, Mimi,” a grandchild observed as I unpacked three baskets of pandemic paintings. You know, maybe I should!
Another grandchild counted and declared I have seventy-six paintings; I’ve given ten away, maybe.
Finally, the oldest grandchild decided to make a photo shoot of the acrylic and canvas ground cover. It wasn’t so successful.
The grandchildren can’t come into our home just yet. So, we visit outside . . . alfresco.
How weird is it that when they come to visit they peer in the front door quizzically, and wish aloud they could come in?
Just when I toyed with the idea of throwing caution to the winds, I learned that, as many nine out of ten Americans have NOT yet been exposed to Covid-19. (WebMD)
2020 — Waiting to see what comes up next in Apocalypse Bingo ~Internet meme
So, care and caution continue . . . except when I have overcome them with an occasional momentary hug from precious little arms. There are days when my fondest memories are of the hugs our kids gave us.
If, as one anonymous, astute source said, Adversity introduces a man to himself, what are you learning in these oh so adverse days about yourself you never knew?
Here’s something that sums up what I am learning:
Wait. When (if) I complete one hundred paintings, can call myself an artist?
“The world always seems brighter when you’ve just made something that wasn’t there before.”― Neil Gaiman