A Conversation About Art

Puck enlightened me during a conversation I hadn’t expected on any level that warm morning in early August.

“Mom, in a way, poo is art.”

“Um… well…” I checked to be sure the young man was serious. He absolutely was. “I think art is usually something the artist intentionally creates, bud.”

“Well, Mom, anything your body creates, is art. I know it’s kind of gross, but it’s true. It doesn’t really matter if you created it on purpose or not.” He began using his hands to explain as he continued his argument. “One of the most famous paintings in the world was created by just throwing paint at paper.”

“That’s true…”

“Yeah, Mom. Some beautiful works of art were created by paint-throwing. Anything is art. Finger painting. Even poo.”

I don’t know if it’s just the boy factor. Maybe it’s the combination of having a son who seems equally interested in art and science, or at least the idea of hypotheses and experimentation.

At the Silverspoon’s, Oxbear and Izzy joined Theodore on the deck for whisky and cigars. No matter how many years pass, it’s still hard to believe that the babies of the families, i.e. Izzy and Irish, are old enough for things like whisky, or driving.

Eventually Izzy returned indoors to make curry over rice for dinner. I’ve had curry only a handful of times, but this time I liked it. All sweet and peanuty, and no spice. I’m not sure the Collette stamp of approval in the department of culinary arts has much value, but occasionally I surprise myself.

That evening, the boys wrapped up a shared bubble bath more full of toys than bubbles, some intense slap happy giggling on Yali’s part, and plenty of splashing. Yali was tucked in his new/old port-a-crib bed for the night as we got a buttery sort of sunset sinking in the west.