Monday, February 6, 2012

Domestic Bliss

N drew this the other day, it's pretty standard issue stuff:

It's a house with a beautiful dormer, roses, nice landscaping, a working fireplace I see there, mountain setting, a nice Dr. Suess sun setting behind the Dr. Suess tree there on the left and, in the tree, a baby bird or a bear cub with a toothache.  Oh, and there is someone there to greet you.

I think we are looking at a whole lot more here, though.  It's sort of The American Dream, I thought for a while (they get fed a lot of that in public schools, in a good way), but I don't think that's quite it either.  It's more.  It's a sort of brief peek into a forming psyche in a way.  And what do I make of it?  Alright, I'll play...

I see a love-instilled view of nature.  I see contentment.  I see sunshine-yellow warmth rendered perfectly in black and white.  I see light where darkness could be.  I see a door opening.  I see open arms.  I see an awareness of happiness.

An awareness of happiness, does that make sense?  It is from the knowing that we can be happy, not simply in happiness, that we draw our strength as family, as tribes, as communities, as humans, as a species.

Happiness is not something to be poo-pooed or taken casually, it is very real to a nearly seven-year-old boy. And, we must be sure that he sees it falling off of us like rain, dripping in his eyes, blurring them to the petty meanness that life can be, and assuring him that this is his inheritance, his entitlement, his destiny.

I feel sure that this is a self-portrait, that man there to greet you, greet me, is Nick.

On another note, I made some bread today in the machine:

"Dad's ugly bread."  Yeah, thanks Zack.  Honestly, that's how it looked, dead-on; pasty, lumpy, and fallen.  We all suffered through  two hot slices a piece somehow.  Slathered with real butter and honey, giggling over how positively pathetic it looked, there's nothing like a hot yeast-bread.

From Marci's '...things you don't expect to hear from the backseat...'

"Dad, can we dance?"

"Yes son, you can always dance."

I said that...

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