Outside of the studio, real kids, real messes, real life, real pictures.
I've been watching. I have been paying attention. Watching those hours tick by, those minutes, those seconds, and mostly those days. I see the confidence growing, the vocabulary flourishing, and personality taking shape. I've experienced the time flash-forward moments where I see a young woman, and then back again to that toothless grin. I can't wait to watch her grow up, I just hope some days go by a little slower than others.
She wants to be an artist, a dancer, a singer, a song writer, a photographer and a Mommy. She only ever wears mismatched socks, and loves her pajamas. She is an animal lover, and animals love her. She loves to read, and thinks pickles are the most disgusting thing on the planet and is totally convinced that I eat them *JUST* so she has to smell them. She writes me books, and jokes, and books of jokes. She has a portfolio of her drawings, and her paintings and artwork are framed and hanging on the walls. She serenades me any time there is silence. She comes with me to run errands *JUST* so we can dance in the car to the radio.
Some days, her little being is so reminiscent of myself when I was six. Its like watching my reflection.... only this one will pave her own path.