I have a painting in my head. It’s a gift for my godchild, my niece. I want to paint her this painting so that she’ll always have something made by me, just for her. It’s a happy image, about our connection. Full of vibrant colours and stars. It’s lovely. In my head, it’s awesome.
My grandmother made things for her grandchildren. Beautiful dresses for barbies and dolls, needlepoint images of leprechauns for on the wall. These are all special things. None of us will ever throw them out, because they mean something. Grandma made them. She put time, and effort in these things that made us feel like we were the awesomest of all kids because we had some things she’d made just for us. They decorated the walls of our childhood, and they may be in a box somewhere, but they will always play a part in our memories. And we cherish them. I want my niece and nephews to have this too. I want to make them things, just for them. Because they are the awesomest.
So I’m going to paint this painting. And it won’t be as perfect as I see it in my head. But it’ll be real. And it’ll mean something.