My Ideal Art

I love abstract art, and if I lived alone and not with a cowboy and four cow-kids, my walls would be covered with moody, sensuous paintings of nothing at all. I love Jackson Pollock’s freaky, splatty paintings. And I love square canvases painted with nothing but subtle variations of the same color. You know, the ones that cause more traditional folks to scoff and say “I coulda painted that myself!”

So in an ideal world, in an ideal bachelorette apartment in a big, exciting city, that’s my ideal art. But my life took another direction. I married a cowboy. And I had four children.

And now, this is my ideal art:

My daughter painted this when she was seven. It’s a still life. And while it’s probably not the most technically earth-shattering piece of work, I think it’s beautiful.

My other daughter painted this:

She modeled it after Monet’s “Water Lilies” and I’d rather hang it on my wall than the original. I think. On second thought, let me get back to you on that.

And then there’s this:

A self-portrait. I love it. At age five, she perfectly captured her own personality. If I could, I’d sleep with this under my pillow at night. As it is, I walk by and kiss it once a day.
If your walls are a little bare, mat and frame your kids’ art. If you’re feeling adventurous, choose a thick, gold, museum-quality frame and show it like it’s a van Gogh. It might not cement your position in society as a world-class art collector, but it’ll bring a smile to your household.