When I was young...

At the ripe old age of 9, Javier has penned and illustrated his first memoir. I would be jealous of his 8-page tome, but, well ... it's only 8 pages. And he only had access to five colors for the illustrations. So there.

His autobiography is aptly titled "When I Was Young" and each page highlights a favorite memory. They aren't necessarily the ones I would've chosen for him (I mean, the first page is a huge slice of pizza), but they are pretty accurate for my creative, funny little boy.

These are my favorites:

Poor beheaded flowers. I love that yellow brick, though. Did you know we are the
brick capitalof the entire world? (Imagine huge brown eyes staring at you now.)

Only a dedicated waterbug would use his arms as "pedals." Paddles are for wimps!

I think my favorite part here is how the slide empties into nothing. I bet that landing hurt!

Who doesn't love a "recidal," especially when everyone sings the same note?

These aren't Javi's most detailed drawings, but I think they're pretty fantastic. Fittingly, I'm writing about ADHD and creativity over at {a mom's view of adhd} today. You can see I have lots of experience to share!

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Inside All of Us is a Wild Thing

My smart and creative son (who is currently taking his very first EOG) had a piece of pottery in our school district's Cultural Arts Festival. Despite no air conditioning in the pre-war gymnasium of the local high school, we enjoyed perusing all the colorful and interesting works from students of all grade levels.

Most especially, we loved this guy:
And we love this guy who really loved that guy:
But all the interesting pieces couldn't distract this girl:
Who cried and whined and freaked out over this door:
Because, apparently, that's where a wild wolf lives. Little does she realize, there's a wolf inside all of us. I can see it in the haggard expression on the face jug, the Mountain Man's shoulders pulled up to his ears and his eyes scouting the exit, and my perilous levels of patience.

One day, she may see the truth of herself, of us all, in art like this:

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