Sometimes art is therapy
What a relief that the boy has recovered from his throat infection. Six days is long enough to be cooped up with a mopey teenager.
It’s funny how grown up a fifteen year old can seem…until they feel unwell – then they can rapidly transform into their petulant ten year old selves but with the addition of hormones and plenty of attitude.
My alcohol intake probably needs to be increased. Did I say that out loud?
To reward my self-restraint and to remind myself of the sweet side of his nature I did some colouring-in from a favourite photograph of my son.
I often take ages creating an image, only to ruin it in the final stages. This was hurriedly finished to get it scanned before the shop closed for the weekend so it’s a bit weird and the hair isn’t high enough – but I was quite interested to adopt my art teacher’s suggestion of contrasting the smooth, careful watercolour pencil marks with quick, rough oil pastel lines. Haven’t decided if I like this effect yet.
The way he was behaving I was tempted to colour the eyes red and draw a pair of horns atop his head. To give credit where it is due, however, I’m pleased to report that he did have the strength of character to think about his behaviour, then apologised and admitted that he’d behaved like a prize prat.
The photograph below is how he prefers to be depicted. *Wanders back to wine bottle*