"a portrait of my children's artwork, once a week, every week, in 2013."
s. at six, conversation sometimes stalls at "good", "i don't know" or " i played." but sitting together on the floor in the studio painting and listening to her mix on the ipod, things start to flow a bit better. "mom, today when we bought lunch my teacher let us walk to the cafeteria by ourselves, since it was raining and my class had to stay inside to eat. she told us to come back after we got our lunch and, mom, it wasn't pizza, it was friday, why wasn't it pizza? it was a hot dog. i ate it, but i wished it was pizza. so the lunch lady said that we could eat in the auditorium. and we did mom. we didn't go back to class. we stayed and ate in there. and it was raining and there was this giant pipe, mom have you seen it? the water was pouring down from it and making this huge puddle, bigger than our whole kitchen! it was cool and then..." this piece is called the link. i named it.
o. a tightly folded package with lots of tape around it was placed into my hand when i picked her up from preschool friday. "this is for you mama. you can open it when you get home". melt. the package, backpack, two stuffed animals, lunchbox, water bottle, muddy boots, wet socks, a cup of treasures, handmade headband, wrist bracelets and belt were all unloaded on the dining room table. in walks daddy, clearly the best thing to happen all day. tug, "mama, i want to give this to daddy." not waiting for an answer, "dad, dad, i made you something, open it!! it's a rocket ship! and my name, dad. olivia!" double melt.