Hope is the thing with feathers

"Who Does She Think She IS?"  acrylic on paper.  NFS.

A few quiet hours in the morning before the hubbub of Turkey Day commences.  The children (none of them really children anymore) all sleep all snug in their beds after a late night of board games and highly competitive hilarity.  These are the times a mom feels deeply, incredibly grateful.  Well, and maybe a little bit shocked and aghast at how much they know and how much she does not.  They are teaching me now.  

I spent some time just watching and listening to these young folks yesterday.  Their passion, intelligence, creative thinking and kindness filled me with hope for the world.  That and their willingness to play with paint at the kitchen table, if even for a few stolen moments.  Working with charcoal, titanium white acrylic paint and a little black gesso, they created some quick studies inspired by shapes and patterns in art book paintings.

Sigh.  One happy mama on turkey day. :)

​Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
--Emily Dickinson