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The Un-Self Concious Artist

September 30, 2009

Amalie appeared from her afternoon nap mysteriously naked.

Without a word, she padded to her easel, and pulled out her paints. She painted. She evaluated. Once in a while she would hug herself with delight. At last the master piece was completed. “Look Mama! A wainbow!” If only I could be so natural, so spontaneous. If only my dreams spurred me straight to the easel, a painting awaiting birth. I’m afraid those days are over for me (what if the UPS man rang the door?!), but I certainly do enjoy them vicariously through my daughter.

Here’s a cute picture of her dressed in her tutu, ready to leave for ballet class.

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