OK, so my blogging schedule has been a bit anemic lately. I know it. My writing life has been anemic, too… or comatose… or catatonic, for a couple of months. Stress does that to me. It sucks out all my creativity and leaves me motivated to do nothing beyond read (seriously, even I am appalled by the number of books I’ve read in the last two months) and perform monotonous, mindless household chores.
That said, a friend of a friend instituted a new round of the “30 Day Drawing Challenge” for the month of April, and I decided to jump in. Because I’m crazy like that. Heheheheh. (I can FEEL my children cringing as they read that last statement.)
For the record, I am NOT an artist. I took one semester of graphic design in college and remember sobbing hysterically over an assignment to “create your own font design.”
Art, in my mind, is my mother’s realm (she’s one of those people whose phone book doodles should be framed and sold) and my children’s arena (it skips a generation, apparently).
That said, today’s artistic challenge was to draw a Muppet.
If that doesn’t stir your creative juices, nothing will.
I chose Elmo. My grandson calls him “Melmo.” I’m still reeling from the combined chemical odors of the black dry erase marker and the red Sharpie. Yes, those “extra” lines are pen marks, because I never did learn to do my sketches in pencil.
Elmo is NOT my favorite Muppet. In my ancient, early Sesame Street era opinion, Elmo is a second generation Muppet, a subspecies to Bert & Ernie, Cookie Monster, Oscar, and Grover. But man, Elmo knows how to grab the attention of the baby and toddler set.
When Melmo is on TV, the world stops. It’s like those old commercials, “When E.F. Hutton talks, people listen.” Yeah, well, nobody remembers E.F. Hutton anymore, but everyone remembers Elmo.
Why is that? As an unwilling Elmo audience member, I think it’s because Elmo is very well versed in the art of unconditional love and acceptance. And even tiny tots can grasp THAT message. Something we could learn from the furry red Muppet with the skull-piercing voice, perhaps?