Lately, as I have read about others lives on personal blogs, I have read so many cute stories of when the now adult, but then child had family members that encouraged them in their art, or how creative they were in their play days.
I was the youngest of three brothers, so in other words...an only child. One brother moved out when I was born and the other was a young teen.
It felt like I was alone all of the time, and my parents surely didn't hold back great toys for me. So, today, I thought, I would just remember some of the toys and how I played by myself or with little friends from the neighborhood.
WHY? You may ask why am I reminiscing. I want to be ART inspired, with my own style, my own imaginations, my own colors, paint strokes...
So, I figured if I thought about some of those times, maybe they would bring about creativity.
Let me bore you...
My girlfriend Rita and I would play with her father's soap powder. He had a little room he had a sink and a dispencer for that funny smelling pink soap powder that used to be in the school's bathrooms. He also cut alot of wood so there was always sawdust. I couldn't get enough of that soap powder, water and sawdust to make this sticky goopy pink bubbly dinner to feed my dolls. My girlfriend Rita would tell me that her father was mad because we were using up all of the powdered soap. Oh, how I loved playing with that stuff, mixing it, putting it into our little plastic cups and bowls, and feeding my dolls.
My mom and dad bought me a red micky mouse phone for Christmas. It was like an old fashioned pay phone, and you would put a little record in it. When you dialed it as though you were making a phone call, the record started, and Mickey would talk to you and you would answer questions. I really felt like I was talking to someone when I held that red phone receiver. I really wonder today how big that phone was. It seemed big!
My cousin had a cardboard kitchen, with the phone and a place you could make-believe you were cooking. The only problem, he wouldn't let me in as often as I would have liked. There was something about that little kitchen/store that made me feel like I was in an actual wonderland.
Tub time was a blast. Did any of you really think you were swimming. I had the pink Mr. Bubbles (there is that pink color again), and it smelled different than it does today. I had silly foam that you would spray on the wall in the tub or make a beard out of. And I had fuzzy wuzzy, a bar of soap that after wet, it would grow fur in a few days. What a magical experience. When I was in that clawfooted tub, and the little plugged in heater was on because it was surely cold in the bathroom, I thought I was actually swimming, really swimming in a large body of water. I have never been able to get rid of that image. I do go to the beach at least once a month now, but I still have dreams of water and swimming, so it is never out of my system. I think I am a mermaid!
Penny candy, yes candy for a penny or even two for a penny. Mom and Dad would take me into a penny candy store at Cape Cod in the 1960's. My whole bag, paper bag, was filled, filled with candy, for $2.00 filled, oh my, big daddy's, hot balls, green apple, foot long bubble gum, pezz, That candy lasted me the whole weekend at the Cape and even some to take home.
My bicycle was my car. I had a blue bike, sissy bar up above my head, a water bottle attached and a white basket on the front, and little tassles hanging out of the handles. I drove everywhere with that bike, filling the basket with jacks, jump rope and chinese jumprope, chaulk, balls, dolls...then one day, I slipped on the sand that was left on the road from the bad winter and the trucks had not cleaned it up yet. We would take large brooms and make paths in the sand, and then drive our bikes in the path's or play Wizard of Oz down the path. I was driving my bike too fast, and I lived at the bottom, of a steep hill. I fell and got my first fat lip. I can't remember who, but someone helped me get home. I was only about 6 or 7 when your parents could let you ride your bike alone at that age.
Well, just a few of my thoughts. I hope I can integrate them into my art.