“Art is the colors and textures of your imagination.”

It was cold last night, in the 30’s, and it will be same every night this week. The day is warmer, but not from the sun. It only drops in every now and then.

My mother made paste out of flour and water. We’d use it in our construction paper projects. I’d glob it on my fingers and smear the paste all along the edges of my paper. The right amount was critical- too much never dried; too little never held. I remember using the paste every Christmas to connect our paper chains. I also remember smears of paste on me mostly from wiping my fingers on my pants. The paste was easy to use; the scissors weren’t. The finger holes were too little, and my thumb always got caught.

One year I was given a box of Ding Dong School finger paints as a gift. It was like getting permission to be messy. The box had small jars of different colored paints, a couple of wooden sticks and lots of paper. I loved it. I’d sit at the kitchen and line up the paints then spread out my paper. It had to be held down on the corners: it came rolled. When I was done, my picture was beautiful, and the pants I was wearing  could have hung in an art museum, probably in the Impressionist gallery.

We used to get watercolors. They’d come in a long white tin. The colors were in a row. In  front of the colors was a hollow which held the brush. My mother would fill glasses with water. One was to wet the brush; the other was to clean it. We’d watercolor on all kinds of paper, even the newspaper. I remember how the spaces in between the colors used to get filled with watery drops which fell from the brushes as we went from the water to the paints and back again. We’d spend hours with those paints. Flowers were a favorite of mine. I remember daisies with long green stems. When I’d finish a masterpiece, I’d hold it up by the top two corners for my mother to see. She’d oh and ah. When it dried, she’d display it on the refrigerator. It was our art museum.

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10 Comments on ““Art is the colors and textures of your imagination.””

  1. Christer's avatar Christer Says:

    Fingerpaint and that water/flour thing didn´t go together with my mother. Tape, sharp knives and scissors where no problem however 🙂 🙂 As she so often said, sharp knives makes better wounds for the doctor to sew together again 🙂 🙂

    But I always got water colors if I wanted, but as I remember it came in a black tin. I can´t remember what I painted though and I can´t remember any ah or oh:s either 🙂 :-). I have never been good with colors, so later on I used pencils in different hardness and I still do that.
    Have a great day now!
    Christer.

    • katry's avatar katry Says:

      Christer,
      We played with harmless toys. I suspect the last thing my mother wanted was a trip to the hospital.

      I still love the look of watercolors though from talented artists, not me.

  2. greg mpls's avatar greg mpls Says:

    i had that same ding dong school paint kit…for
    a very short while..it disappeared after the first time i played with it..as an adult i have
    made of point of giving gifts just like it to
    the children of ‘friends’. anything with
    glitter is a fav…the messier the better.

    • katry's avatar katry Says:

      Greg,
      I love giving fun toys and love the idea of the messier the better. What kid doesn’t love being a dirty mess? It’s for the love of art after all.

  3. Zoey & Me's avatar Zoey & Me Says:

    I loved my water colors and played with it the most like a toy. Later I discovered I was not artistic but loved to paint wide swaths with the brush. No one put my art work up for show and tell but I remember in first or second grade the teacher putting our A papers up for all to see. That was thrilling.

  4. caryn's avatar caryn Says:

    I only got to play with finger paints one time at my cousins’ house. I didn’t like it. There was something about sticking my finger in that gelatinous paint that skeeved me.

    We were given water colors, crayons, colored pencils and pastels. My mother’s dining room table still bears the scars of our artistic endeavors. Some of those things weren’t as washable as they were supposed to be.

    • katry's avatar katry Says:

      caryn,
      I liked finger painting for the same reason you didn’t. It was fun globing paint then getting artistic.

      We had all but the pastels. Crayons came every year in Easter baskets and Christmas stockings. I still always have some on hand.


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