The Artist

My kid was born knowing that she was an artist.  Some people say that there’s no way a child could possible know what they truly want to become at such a young age.  But I beg to differ.  I think we know exactly who we are as children.  Then life begins.  We become saturated with outside influence that seems to pull us further and further away from our child-like center.  We begin to doubt our truest gifts, forcing them to become latent.  Society assures us that without monetary gain, dreams are pointless.

I half jokingly asked an Indian friend of mine, “Why are Indian kids smarter and more successful?”  Her answer became my own personal parenting creed.  She said that it’s important to watch your child.  REALLY watch them.  See what they naturally gravitate towards.  Then give them every tool and opportunity they’ll need to succeed.  Most importantly you support them.  Truly believe in them.   Even if things seem far-fetched at the time.  Nationality had nothing to do with it.

When Cali was around 5 years old, she matter -of- factly informed us that she wanted to grow up to be just like Tim Burton.  I wanted to laugh and point out that the man was a walking science fair exhibit.  Instead, I gave her a camera and autonomy. Over the past three years, she has borderline mastered the art of stop motion animation.  She’s written scripts, created characters, developed backdrops and scene sets.  I tried not to yell when she put Littlest Pet Shop heads on her Polly Pocket dolls in “A Vinchuryan Tale”.  Not only does she make the movies, but she creates the soundtracks as well.  I stumbled across her playlists just a couple of days ago and was borderline freaked out that she had actually chosen music that reflected the plots both lyrically and musically.  Music I’ve never heard of before.

Some may say we give her entirely too much technological freedom.  I say I’m giving her a head-start.