My daughter painted this at daycare. My daughter. My 4-year-old daughter.
I just want to make sure that sinks in.
Every year they hold a fundraiser at daycare that involves the children recreating a painting of their choice, which is then sold to their parents for $20 at a very festive vernissage. I love it, because while I might resent having to pay for my own kid’s work, I think the fact that they spend 2 months working on a masterpiece kicks ass. Every single year my kids brought home something beautiful; something they were really proud of.
“Is $20 a lot for the painting?” my son asked. (He’s been very into the cost of things lately.)
“Not for a future masterpiece,” I assured him.
We walked around and looked at all the paintings from the other children. They were all beautiful. The inspiration ranged from Van Gogh to Clarence Gagnon, my daughter’s artist of choice. A few other children had selected the same painting that she did, Nature morte aux Grenades. Comparing them, I noticed that hers was the only one that had people in it.
“Who are those people?” I asked.
She smiled brightly and pointed, from left to right -
“That’s you, that’s my brother, and that’s me.”
“Where’s Daddy?” my son asked.
“Inside the house. Having a nap.”