Pictures

The walls of our house are lined with pictures.They range from fancy prints we bought ages ago, to a large simply framed water-colour of some flowers over the fireplace, to , and this is what I’m going to talk about today, pictures that we (myself, and my two sisters,) painted.They range from when we were all under four, and gradually change from unrecognisable squiggles, to some blotchy daffodils to a blackbird sitting in just the way a real blackbird would sit.When friends came round, I was kind of embarrassed at first, the fact that everything around them was created by us, charting our own artistic childhood (mine dropped off at age ten – I stick with theatre and music now,) but now I never think of it. I look on it instead as a welcome. Having it around you, a sort of portfolio of your life.Oh, so you painted pirates when you were seven?Look! Is that Queen Elizabeth?What a lot of small pictures of flowers!This makes me feel proud. Today’s message is, If you have pictures on your wall, and you’re a child, be proud, that all your efforts charting your life so far are all around you.And if you’re an adult, revel in it. You won’t have them for long.