Friday, June 21, 2013

Imaginext Space Station

Imaginext Space Station

Imaginext Space Station

"That fish," he said pointing, looking toward his display of ceramic plates. He's got about ten pieces of art that he's made from his after school clay class. We showcase them above our shelves in the kitchen. "The one with the purple mohawk," he clarified.

I looked at it. It wasn't very unique looking and wouldn't make a good reference. Plus the definition was surfaced via the color. "I don't think it will look much like it if I draw it. And remember, I can't do the colors."

"It's okay, just draw some designs on it," he said encouragingly.

I wasn't thrilled with the option. It's been tough lately for him to pick something. "You don't have to choose only things that you see in front of you. You can choose anything you can think of."

He looked pensively. "I can see things in my brain," he said, "like pictures that I can see." He contemplated this revelation. "Ah, I know what it's gonna be Dad. I don't think it's on your iPhone."

He went upstairs and came down with this Imaginext toy, a space station. "Can you do it Dad?" he asked.

I was thrilled that he picked something that wasn't in the kitchen, so I had no choice but to say, "I'll try." Maybe I should have stuck with the fish plate, I thought to myself. I got to work but had a trouble as I always do with three dimensional objects.

He finished his breakfast without looking over. Later he came up to me with his toothpaste in hand, needing my help to squeeze the last few bits out of it. He took a look. I wasn't near being finished, but he could see it taking shape. "You are just too good at drawing! You're too good! I don't know how you're so good at drawing!" When he's so complimentary, I feel both proud and a little bit embarrassed. I've never taken compliments well.

I wasn't thrilled with the finished version, but as we were walking out the door he saw it and said, "Whoa! Whoa!"

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