I find myself gazing at a piece of art affixed to my daughter’s bedroom door, created using fruit-scented markers. At just 6 years old, Lily has embarked on what I like to call her post-impressionist phase. The drawing features a vibrant rainbow curling into the shape of a wave, accompanied by a stout tree, its bulbous leaves resembling oversized pawpaws. This tree, with its awkward stance, appears to either be attempting to use the rainbow as a whimsical scarf or is just about to topple due to its own weight.
The rainbow itself seems to carry a physical presence, looking both solid and pliable, much like clay. Strikingly, the color orange dominates this piece, overshadowing the other hues—purple, blue, green, yellow, and red. (Let’s avoid the debate over indigo and violet; they only serve to rile Lily.) The orange, while tapering at the ends, bulges in the center, with lines that burst forth like rays of sunlight rather than flowing gracefully. It’s as if orange is declaring its independence, exclaiming, “I’m breaking free!” and “Where’s my treasure at the end of the rainbow?!”
This marks the beginning of Lily’s post-impressionist journey. Like any developing artist, she has gone through various phases. As a toddler, she explored abstract expressionism, a minimalist approach that eventually transitioned into her stick figure phase. What makes her early works distinctly Lily are the recurring features: most characters are girls, all sporting oversized heads, long lashes, and hair that resembles elongated balloons, often topped off with a bow.
Over time, Lily expanded her subjects to include animals, particularly her beloved mice. I could compile a coffee-table book filled with her endless pages showcasing these stick mice—rounded bodies, arms raised in surrender, and a straight line for a mouth that leaves them with a somewhat somber expression (the girl mice are less gloomy, thanks to their fluttery lashes and cheerful bows). Her older brother, Noah, has taken on the role of a self-appointed critic.
“Lily!” he exclaims, “Boys have lashes too, you know.”
Lily remains unfazed.
Her repertoire has grown to include two friends holding hands—always a pair—families represented by heart shapes, mermaids with hands as large as catcher’s mitts, and cats peeking out from vibrant houses adorned with oversized flowers floating in the sky. There was even a brief rabbit phase, characterized not by adorable fluffy creatures, but rather by bulbous eyes, square foreheads, and oddly angled ears. I can only speculate that her aversion to carrots might have played a role in this artistic choice.
As with any artist, Lily is influenced by her surroundings—first grade has introduced her to the world of words, leading her to experiment with what I call “word-art.” She creates a bustling collage of sketches, followed by meticulous labeling of each element: cloud, bird, tree, bush, road, Eiffel Tower. It resembles a map crafted by Roald Dahl—imaginative yet a tad chaotic.
I observe her at the kitchen table, her golden hair bent forward in deep concentration, carefully selecting each fragrant color from a plastic container that once housed artichoke dip. She approaches her art with complete freedom, unburdened by societal expectations or constraints.
I know that a time will come when Lily will hesitate to wear her skort as a tank-top because—well, that’s not how clothes work. She may reconsider her decision to apply blue eyeshadow to her lips, prompted by Noah’s remark about flowers not being those colors. And eventually, she might learn to draw “normal” bunnies. She may even acknowledge that indigo and violet do have their rightful place in a rainbow, and in doing so, she may lose a bit of that artist’s spark. It’s a journey that could leave her buried in the rubble of conformity, longing to rise anew with the vision of a poet.
On her drawing, two fluffy white clouds hover over the rainbow-wave—one large, one small. Initially, they were untouched, a perfect blend of color and void. But after a week of contemplation, Lily decided they needed smiley faces (with lashes, of course, since these clouds are girls). This illustrates a true artist’s struggle with the concept of knowing when to stop. Bold blue strokes swirl around her jubilant clouds like a strong gust of wind, consuming every inch of white space—leaving little to the imagination yet sparking endless possibilities.
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In summary, Lily’s art reflects her uninhibited creativity and evolving journey as a young artist. Her works capture a vivid imagination that embraces bright colors, playful characters, and the joy of self-expression.
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