A Child's Art.

 

My mother had me all worked up to go to art class for nearly a week. It would be the first art class I would ever attend. She got me dressed and we made our way to the school. It was a private school and usually a class where students attended on Saturdays & Sundays only.  

 

When we arrived my mother inquired about having me enrolled in a class with the desire of a private instruction. The instructor smiled and simply said, "I am sorry. We don't accept any students under the age of sixteen." 

 

With the knowledge and fear of the sudden disappointment seen in my mother's expression, she coerced her to re-examine her statement and directed me to look around while she leaped off into further discussion. At the end of my mother's long speech, she persuaded her to allow me to attend only for the day.What occurred at the end of the day was just as my mother had expected.  

 

The instructor was certain she wanted me to return on schedule for further instruction, every single weekend after that. She saw talent beyond my chronological age. To my surprise, I was the first eight-year-old accepted and it would later be the place where I would attain imperative guidance allowing me to further express my natural born talent.  

 

Memory Ann Forwalt.  A Parrot, 1984. 
Pastels on Drawing Paper. 
33.75 cm x 22.5 cm (13 1/2 in x 9 in).