I’ve reviewed the notebook where I jot down ideas for blog posts and none of them appeal to me. This week I’m drawing a blank. If I was Harold, of Purple Crayon fame, and I drew a blank, it would probably actually be a blank. I don’t know what a blank looks like, but if anyone could bring a blank to life, it’s Harold. I can’t draw anything. I wish I could.
My husband is a wonderful artist (although he’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t very good at drawing people). His mindless doodles are works of art. I have retrieved sketches from the trash that I couldn’t bear to see destroyed. We vacationed in Bar Harbor recently and while waiting for our meal he used the crayons supplied for our nephew to draw on a napkin. That napkin, which sports a lobster holding a knife and fork over a small human on a plate that is waving it’s limbs in the air, is now framed and hanging in my home office. A little blot of butter gives it a touch of verisimilitude.
I want to share something with you, so below is an illustration he created on the computer for our daughter’s Bat Mitzvah invitation a couple of years ago.
I know it’s not polite to brag, but I can’t help it. His creative ability brings such joy to my life. When we agreed that I was going to try my hand at writing, full time, my excitement was dampened by the knowledge that that meant he would have to keep working in the real world. And as we all know, the real world can be a bit of a challenge, particularly for a creative person.
I don’t know what conclusions to draw from this short ramble. Maybe none are necessary. After all, I’ve already told you, I can’t draw.