The chair's story had to include creating an interior space, also.
I took one of the kids' chairs - Corinne's favorite wooden one - and put it in a tree outside and drew it from the inside.
Chairs should offer a place to rest, right? Or a helpful, safe boost in inches when trying to reach something, right? Corinne decided they were for dancing and balancing. I decided to have a heart attack.
She also decided she could use the chair to climb onto the dining room table and dance there for another view of the room. Again, heart attack.
I walk into a room and immediately start sizing up the chairs and what the chairs are close to that might become her end goal. I've gotten quite skilled at this, actually.
As any anxious parent does, I've already begun predicting what my NEXT source of heart attacks will be: Trees.
Heaven help us when that sweet girl discovers trees...
Here's my attempt at charcoal (above). This was the first time I have ever tried to control it, and it was much harder than I imagined. All other times, I've used it in drafts where mess-ups and smudges were okay. Charcoal pencils, which offer more control, give me the willies because of the noise they make on the paper.
One girl I sometimes sit near has MAD SKILLS and control with charcoal.
In her drawing, her chair was positioned against a brick wall next to a small table. On the table were books and a journal - things that represented rest, contemplation, and time for herself.
She said she had not had much time to be alone, rest and read and she was longing for that in this drawing.