My youngest student did this drawing in class, then colored it in when she got her new colored pencils. Not not only did she do the drawing and change the background because she didn’t like what was there, she made up a whole story about the horse. If you look closely, there’s someone running down the road behind him, calling his name. Well thought out and imaginative. His name is Stevie, he’s running away to play with the dog at the barn down the road. Her next drawing was the barn down the road, complete with the dog (named Russ, by the way).
Really….a horse named Stevie with a friend of another species?
When do we lose that imagination? Does it get taught out of us, or does life get so serious that we become preoccupied with more important matters like paying bills and, for some, raising children? Does it resurface as we age and perhaps have more time and wisdom?
Good art tells a story, evokes a response, makes you feel a certain way. This ten-year-old has taught me I need to remember to let the story out of the barn with my next painting.