13 x 13Little boys and water. Little boys and sticks and water. Little boys and sticks and rocks and water.
They seem to go together in a magical way.
When my boys were little, I spent hundreds of hours with them near water and helped them throw sticks and climb rocks. Now they are grown men, engineers, who work long days in offices and have wives and homes and other things that take up their time.
But, when I was at the park painting, and saw this little boy with his mother (I could hardly miss them since they walked right past my easel to get to the river), I was flooded with memories.
Of course he had to step out onto the rocks in the water. Of course he had to throw a stick (many sticks). Of course his face split into a huge smile each time he heard the splash. His body would stiffen and he would hop in excitement. I asked his mother, through tears (mine), if I could photograph him. Yes. Are you sure he's not in your way? I shook my head and smiled, because I could not trust my voice.
Littleboysandsticksandrocksandwater. The title of today's painting.
They seem to go together in a magical way.
When my boys were little, I spent hundreds of hours with them near water and helped them throw sticks and climb rocks. Now they are grown men, engineers, who work long days in offices and have wives and homes and other things that take up their time.
But, when I was at the park painting, and saw this little boy with his mother (I could hardly miss them since they walked right past my easel to get to the river), I was flooded with memories.
Of course he had to step out onto the rocks in the water. Of course he had to throw a stick (many sticks). Of course his face split into a huge smile each time he heard the splash. His body would stiffen and he would hop in excitement. I asked his mother, through tears (mine), if I could photograph him. Yes. Are you sure he's not in your way? I shook my head and smiled, because I could not trust my voice.
Littleboysandsticksandrocksandwater. The title of today's painting.
