Ride the Tiger
I had a slump. Thankfully, it’s passed. What to credit for my walk through the block? Loneliness. That’s right. Loneliness. This past weekend, I saw my kids off to a camp out with the grandparents and my lovely wife attended classes for some such certification in her chosen profession, leaving me with time on my hands.
What to do? Well, draw, of course. But drawing possess not the qualities of good familial company, and loneliness took up residence soon after their departure. So, I drew my family. I, especially, was drawn to draw my son. He looks like his mother. A beautiful and radiant little boy soaked to the bone in energy, tenderness, and mischief.
When you long for your children’s company, it’s like being in love with them all over again; holding them in your mind like the perfect memory of their small, swaddled body nestled against your heart in those early morning hours of their life. Beautiful, beautiful. You can’t buy that kind of inspiration.
It may not be the best of art, but he’s one half of a pair that’s the best of me.