I’m not certain how this happened, but
somehow the household refrigerator has become a repository for the works of nearly
all budding artists. To point, every
house I visit displays, on the resident refrigerator, crayon drawings or finger
paintings produced by children related in some manner to the occupants of the
house.
Last week, I traveled from Butte to
Helena in a vehicle along with my nephew’s two daughters. One of the girls had brought along several coloring
books and an assortment of colored pens, pencils, and markers.
Naturally, I asked if I could color
something from one of the books. As we
wended our way through the mountains separating the two cities, I colored away
using some plump markers that smelled like various fruits associated with their
colors. Yellow was banana scented. Red smelled of strawberries.
Once I finished with my coloring, I
jotted down my name and then added my age (which seems important for such art).
Yesterday, I discovered that my art
had somehow landed on my sister’s refrigerator.
Today, I proudly share my coloring with
everyone.
--Mitchell
Hegman
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