Artist in Residency week is a true learning experience, for me. Little hands and hearts remind me the subtle motion of painting is not always inherent. Some want to dab. Some will use proper strokes. Some, just scrub. My hope is to instill a taste of art's refuge, a place to return when little else is soothing. Painting can do that. The scrubbers though, they kept scrubbing in earnest.
Probably most satisfying to the students was the material prepping phase. Ten gallons of plastic bottles caps were cleaned and sorted. They were also diverted from the landfill. The sensory experience was grand. Sight, sounds, textures abound. Water play during 90 degree temperatures was certainly welcome too.
Their little personalities impressed me. Actually, some of the personalities weren't so little. Left to their own, roles easily evolved. At 42" high, one young lady filled the bill of delegator, handing out caps and directing younger ones to the proper sorting bins. Another meticulous soul managed quality control, making sure there weren't any misplaced colors.
We bridged many lessons during the week: environmental responsibility, the color spectrum, butterfly anatomy, patterns in nature... Most important, I learned, the scrubbers will be scrubbers, until they are ready to be otherwise. In the meanwhile, I can present an option. And hope.
