Wrangler Dani

(Originally published on Substack. Subscribe here and never miss a missive.)

“Look, Mama!”

“Mom, watch me!”

They delight to show me their dance moves and clean plates, artistic expressions and bike-riding prowess. In my weak moments, I sigh when my children pull on my sleeve or grab my face to make sure I see their latest accomplishment. Distraction is painful – when I’m pulled from my thoughts I feel myself slogging back uphill to get back to them, resentful of the little people who take up so much of my mind and heart.

However, it occurs to me that my children are teaching me about the communal nature of artistry when they show me their unicorn flying over the couch or how tall they built the Lego tower. Although I shy away from asking for an audience, they have no such qualms. They see other humans as willing participants in their artful life, they see their self-expression as necessarily worth celebrating.

Songs are just ditties when hummed to oneself, as my grandfather did in his bus of a Buick, waiting for the gas station attendant. Under-one’s-breath art is valuable; his temperate voice purring “deeee da deee dummm” is one of my cherished memories of him, one that invokes the smell of his aftershave and the feeling of his crisp shirt against my face. But he only had those tunes, ready and eager to warble their way into my brain, because someone else was courageous enough to perform them. Art demands an audience.

Mama, look. Look how big I am, look how much I ate, look at my tea party, look what I made.

I want to look. I also want to learn from my little teachers, and ask those I love to come, look, see. Art is meant to be shared, beauty invites us to generosity with our time and attention, for ourselves and for each other.

So, thank you for reading. Thank you for sharing your creativity with me, for asking your questions of Buzz the Not-So-Brave and listening to my answers, for offering your support and kindness to this endeavor. As all do, my writing journey has had its fair share of rejections, but it’s also been relentlessly fueled by the kindness of my reader – that’s you. So thank you.

(In the spirit of looking and sharing – here’s what I’d love: 1) comment and tell me what you’re creating lately and what you’re into (books/podcasts – whatever!) 2) share this little letter with a friend.)

Now I’m off to admire a note to a unicorn and a never-before-seen battle between a tiny skid steer and a miniature monster truck. Both are worthy of celebration, and as my 4-year-old says, “you have to watch or you’re gonna miss it…”