Art as life

I am now approaching my 90 day mark and the only thing I was uncomfortable with was my uncertainty about being/staying here. After a particularly rough week and feeling pretty disconnected, I had a great day on the beach with the kids. Actually most of the trips with the kids are awesome. I went from feeling funneled into a small space with them to feeling like I can really spend quality time with them. I’ve grown particularly close with Oliver and I love my kids here. In all honesty, I hate this particular phase, where they have different developmental needs and the sibling rivalry is insane, but if it is a necessary course, I’d rather have it here. What solidifies all of this sudden comfort in my uncertainty is the kids: their conversations, their new found discoveries and their drawings. I am moved to tears by Maya’s drawings (-and Leo’s, they are just more abstract.)

Maya depicting herself with the activities of the day in boxes above:

bonfire building, swimming pool and home

 

My personal favorite: Mom and Maya in the waves

 

Maya going down a waterfall near a treehouse:

 

Maya and Leo on the rock cliffs overlooking the ocean and the fishermen in the distance; the fish is a "cool looking" yellow and black fish that they saw and insisted I missed out on (while watching Oliver on the beach) so they had to draw it for me:

 

Flower clouds over fishermen trying to catch huge eels under the pink sunset:

I love the elaborate explanations.

 

The kids have become so connected to the natural environment and they have entered a space of pure childhood, one that is disappearing in much of the social and educational environments in North America and Europe. There’s only one chance at childhood and people spend the rest of their lives reflecting and celebrating or lamenting and mourning their childhoods. I see my kids blossom here and I want them to take these associations throughout their lives. I want these trips to the beach to be the catalyst for the trips they will take with their kids. I ask them to smell things all of the time, especially Leo because he is so prone to comment on how things smell. I want them to have a sensory repertoire of everything we are doing now.

I decided to stop worrying about how long we are staying, about how far my commitment to this place will run. I want to just enjoy seeing my kids grow here now. I want to save all of these drawings.

I came here because I wanted my kids to feel the thump-your-chest call from within and feel free to express that. I watch Maya and Leo walk way out to the furthest rock, where the waves crash the hardest against the rock. They stand there drawn to the intensity of the ocean, absorbed in observation and moved by the power of the water.

They get it!