A canvas, some paint, and a Jonathan
If life has taught me anything, it is that it all begins with a blank and empty canvas. The possibilities are endless, the canvas or for that matter our own lives are never empty or blank, we fill them up on a daily basis, we paint our canvas from the very first time we can record a memory in our vast mind. Yet as a child, my son's canvas is still needing much paint, and through his eyes he sees life in a different prospective. This is his first attempt at trying to capture what his mind tells him is important...
The rough draft, a sketch of thoughts on a vast slice of daily life.
If only we could sketch our days so easily only to erase what we dislike and relive the opportunities.
The day begins with red, a primary building block in his scene.
Followed by the brown, a core ingredient when selecting his everlasting foundation.
But without a foundation you can't have growth, we all grow from the foundation which are our parents. So enters green, and life sprouts forward without a fear.
Green, it is a color most of us associate with life, where there is green there is life..
But every life has its obstacles, it's demons, it's failures. Enter "The Creeper", a figure my son sees as a challenge to happiness on scene.
Steve, the hero in my sons eyes displays our every day struggles to overcome such obstacles, Steve is welding his ever powerful sword.
Enter the darkness of black, the scene takes a turn to where the we assume the end is near.
Will Steve survive? Will the darkness allow the Creeper to find Steve at a disadvantage? Life can be so unpredictable, no matter how well you prepare for it, it challenges you like the night.
Watching him use the color black, and how each brush stroke captured the gesture of his hand movement made me pause, and ask myself, " is it not I that welds my brush as well? Or have I lost my way on my canvas?
The darkness can drown you, as my sons canvas will illuminate Steve in the spirit of the night.
We control our own brush, which paints out memories on our canvas, as my son uses his brush to dictate each stroke.
For some of us we figure it out early on, while others refuse to learn and adapt.
The texture of each brush stroke is relevant in life, the details ever so small find us and define us.
"The battle of the night" Minecraft
So simple, yet so defining. My sons first canvas. He would like to thank that special inspiration which is the game of life as he sees it Minecraft. In his eyes it filled his canvas...
Every artist needs a break and a chance to savior the sweet flavor of knowing you are done filling your canvas