No. 248: A Sense of Wonder

ANTHONY, 17 months.  May 2014

Two people in my own household actually asked me to stop doing so many drawings, because we've run out of space for them.
That's like asking me to stop breathing. The answer is no.
It really took me no time at all to find a place to hang "Anthony, 17 months."  I hung him in the family room, right next to a baby picture and a clock -- because time is flying.

Tick tock.

I draw for myself in between drawing for other people. April was a slow month so I was able to crank out a few rock stars, a beloved dog and the fourth installment of my Anthony series.
My hope is to accumulate a number of drawings as my only grandchild grows, and them compile them into a book for his 18th birthday. Eventually they'll be down to two a year, and then perhaps every other year, as he catches up to flying time.

At last, he has shoes on.

This drawing took grandpa about a week. It's from a photo, taken at someone else's house, on a hardwood floor. He's holding a little flashlight and he's sprinkled stars of cereal around him.
The wood grain effect was created by drawing in some grain and then rubbing the pencil across the wood of my old drawing table.
Give a kid a few trinkets and some snacks, and his sense of wonder will keep him occupied for a bit.

Wood grained.

Those of you who follow the dysfunction of my family here or on Facebook know that a wedding is coming up in less than a month. First came Anthony, and now his parents are going to make it legit. Activity is ramping up for the reception.
Anthony's activity level also is peaking at this time. During a visit to the reception hall to work out some details, he busied himself moving between long tables as Cortland Optimists played Bingo.
The kid is fast. And, he wants to experience the full catastrophe of life.

Ready to frame.

There was some debate over what to do with the boy during the wedding reception.
Little hands and little feet can create big messes and the potential for big noise.
And there are all of those tables to run between.
But we've settled on allowing him to stay the entire time, to stay up late and to be a part of the joy.
To have a sense of wonder, and to share  that gift with the big people who may have forgotten what it's like.
He will, I suspect, be the life of the party.

"Tone man"