As a child I dreamed about art, I dreamed in vivid colors and of famous painters. I drew frames around my pictures and dreamed about being a famous artist… I use to tell people that my mother was an artist and to me she was. My mother painted and I thought her paintings were beautiful. I got in trouble for lying, but I never felt like I lied because the definition of the word 'artist' is a person who produces paintings or drawings as a profession or hobby and she painted as a hobby. I loved her art, her drawings and her creations. To ME she was a famous artist.
Visiting the art institute of Chicago was literally a dream come true. I have always wanted to go to Europe to see the art, the architecture, the pure beauty but I don't fly… and thats a WHOLE different blog! I could have easily spent all day at the museum and although Kid4 did great she was understandably struggling with appreciating the obvious nudity in many of the paintings. Seems as though many of the 6 year olds there didn't quite get the beauty of it. (understandably)
For me it was a dream, for her it was popcorn and a rare chance to see some inappropriate parts in a frame with her grandma. I loved it, she got a pair of earrings and some great postcards. What a wonderful day in Chicago!