The Absence of Blue

Twenty three paintings and each of them contains some shade of blue.  All twenty-three.

She loves blue.  

She is particular. 

She won't eat at McDonalds for personal reasons.

She's good at swimming, really good.  But, she dislikes competition and so being really good at Freestyle, Butterfly and Backstroke, being fast, and skilled is just something she is, not something she'll do.  

I struggle with this.  I want her to have something; something to fall back on, to advance with.  Something to carry her through.  Some way to participate with others.

Walking into her art lesson yesterday, I immediately noticed an absence of blue on her palate and in her painting, on her clothes and in her hair, where there usually is plenty.  No blue, but instead; purple, red, gold, green, white, black, grey.  

When does enjoying something turn into being good at something?  

 Apparently yesterday is when.

Right around lesson number twenty-four.

I couldn't take my eyes off of it.  

"I would buy this", I said to myself.

"I love this one.  Can I have it?"  I asked her.

"Maybe?"  She answered slowly, thoughtfully, after she looked long and hard at her work.  She seemed unsure about giving it away so easily, even to me.  She loves it too, I realized.   Unlike all the others she handed off to me in the past without consideration, this one was different, completely different.

I could not contain my smile.  I felt it actually pull at either side of my face.

"It's really something", I said.

Something

to hold on to.