Oonagh’s been getting into watercolors, and her sure, if wild, touch with the brush is an inspiration. Outrageous splashes, streaks, and smears are immediately named: kitty, choo-choo, tracks, bear. She, at two, is doing what I aspire to, though I’m a little less quick to pin a name on things.
During her nap, my momentary break, I finally got some colors and water out for myself, for the first time in a while, and just messed around. I laid some paper on the pull-out breadboard and scattered a few colors and palettes around the kitchen counter, amidst crumbs and crusts. Could have wiped up first, sure, but daddies learn that time is always short.