So here’s the lads sketching in a church. I gave them books through which I, of course, wanted to encourage the obsessive transcription of every moment of every day.
Just this morning a friend and I were having coffee and reflecting that even with still-young children you look around and think, ‘But that’s not what I wanted to teach you…I haven’t taught you the things you need to know yet…don’t be nine, we haven’t finished with eight’.
But if you leave the space, you get your compensations, don’t you? It never occurred to me that they might like sketching.
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| From spain |
And here’s the lads, map in hand, finding the way to our hotel in Burgos. Moments to make your heart sing indeed.
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| From spain |
And you can never have enough Mortadelo y Filemon. A worthy use of your allowance even if you can’t understand a word of it.
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| From spain |
Also, you see that chair in the window. At the end of the day (quite late in mid-summer, I think getting close to eleven o’clock), you can sit in that chair with a glass of Spanish red and watch the colours change over the sea.
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| From spain |
The trick, I have found, is not to attempt to teach them anything. Then you can’t complain.
Have you thought about brass rubbing? That’s kind of fun. I forget where we bought the crayony stuff you do it with, but an art supplies shop should have it. I made some lovely ones in the UK which are now lost. Bummer.
exquisitely beautiful, all of that.
Wow. We definitely need more Spain.
I’ve just read your post about unhappiness. I hope you’re feeling happier now. I’m about to be extremely unhappy when my last child leaves home, which will be within a few weeks. Hmm. Life’s not for the unstalwart, indeed.
Nice. Lovely. Sweet.
….now just make sure you save every single one of his early works to sell later on when he’s a world-renowned artist, OK?