During the summer, we lounged about and played "let me draw you."
(I worked HARD on this- Ok?!)
And anyway, my boy was impressed.
He said; and I quote: "Whoa. You should be an artist when you are older."
And again, he was equally impressed with my ability to recreate reality in pencil/paper form. (e-hem)
my boy retracted his earlier ego-boosting statement with a simple:
"Actually, maybe not..."
I guess it's just because it reminds him of a scene from the movie Harry and the Hendersons, when George is drawing a portrait of Harry and doesn't get it right and that movie freaks him out.
I won't take it personally.
And I am an artiste anyway.
That is what I told the Handy Hubby the other day when I was busy making movies.
"I am an artist." I said.
"I've got no time for mundane tasks like washing up. I have a greater calling."
To which he replied- "You are not an artist. Artists live in chaos and decay."
"Look around you." I replied.
And I heard no more.
Therefore, I can only assume that my artistic qualifications have been acknowledged.