the boogeyman

I have been on a mission to find a creative outlet for my oldest daughter that she enjoys. My youngest is easy to please in the creative arena. She will crochet, paint, draw, color, create in all kinds of ways that tend to leave me in awe. My oldest on the other hand, doesn't give herself enough credit when it comes to art. When she completes a project, she tends to view it through such critical eyes that she no longer sees the beauty or fun in it. So, whenever I come across something new or interesting, I always show her in hopes that it will be something that she just falls in love with. Don't get me wrong, she does absolutely love making jewelry on the Rainbow Loom. I think that has been a kind of Godsend for her lately. She creates such beautiful rubber band pieces that I look at and wonder just how she managed to put that thing together! I think though, that when she sees her sister so into artwork, she is constantly trying to put herself into that box, and when she looks through those critical eyes, she becomes frustrated. Last night I showed her a YouTube video with a person creating a Zentangle art piece. No offense to anyone that is an artist that flourishes in Zentangle, but to me, it is basically doodling that has been renamed. Doodling creates some amazing work, so I am definitely not knocking the art, just simply the name. Anyways, I showed her this video and she lighted up. She immediately wanted to Zentangle (see how that doesn't sound as cool?). I provided her some paper and a Micron pen, and she got started. She was having a blast! She created the family valentines for next month using Zentangles, and all kinds of pictures. Then she made Dad one, and approached him quite carefully, instructing him to set everything aside and really look at her picture. So he did as instructed. He sat up, took the tiny picture, which was a notecard, and looked. He stared here and there, touching his fingers to his chin as if in great though. My daughter was standing directly behind his recliner chair, hover, watching him. Her mouth was moving in nervousness, her fingers flinging to her mouth. Then she would move to the side of the chair, hovering a bit more, giving those facial expressions of nervousness and anxiousness. Now for me, I was across the room, thoroughly enjoying this display.  I found it so fun, and utterly interesting to see my daughter bouncing around so completely nervous to hear what he thought of her picture. I wondered why he was singled out for his approval to be so important, and decided it must be that my praise is so naturally and automatically given that she needed to hear it from him. After a few minutes, my husband announced that it looked something like the boogeyman dancing at the bottom of the ocean in seaweed, and my daughter sighed in relief! It of course was not the boogeyman dancing at the bottom of the ocean in seaweed, it was really just something abstract, but the fact that he saw the boogeyman dancing at the bottom of the ocean in seaweed somehow meant something wonderful in my daughter's ears. I think sometimes the verbal language between a father and daughter mystifies me, but watching them from across the room left no doubt about what was going on. She wanted some kind of approval for her artwork that only Dad could give.