“My whole LIFE is art!!”

The Boy issued this pronouncement a few weeks ago, during a rare behavioral meltdown, right after I finally found a privilege from which to restrict him that he really couldn’t live without.

It was funny at the time—but Daddy must remain stern during behavioral malfunctions—and funnier now, because it’s so true.

Us: “What did you do in school today?”

Him: “Art.”

Next day, us: “What did you do in school today?”

Him: “Art.”

Next day, us: “What did you do in school today?”

Him: “Art.”

Next day, us: “What did you do in school today?”

Him: “Art.”

Us: “Didn’t you go on a field trip to the Wonka Chocolate Factory today?”

Him: “Uh huh. Then we came back to school for Art, though.”

Between the time he gets dressed in the mornings and breakfast magically appears—usually about a minute or two—he’s at the crafts table, working on something. Between after breakfast and leaving, he’s back drawing or coloring or gluing or taping until he’s shoved into his coat on the way out the door.

We’ve learned not to tell him, “Let’s go, we’re leaving now!” and guarantee a scene, when it’s just as easy to tell him five minutes earlier, “Hey, we’re leaving in five.” My parents would say we are capitulating and letting the terrorists win, but I just see it as good conflict-resolution/avoidance skills. It also models reasonable behavior for The Boy, which is something I’ve read about in books.

But everything he touches does indeed turn into art. A little girl in his class gave him an early Valentine yesterday, and he immediately set about creating the masterpiece in tin foil below to give to her.

This next piece also happened last night. He was watching Sesame Street and yelled out for the DVR to be paused. He got out a sheet of paper and drew the image of Elmo, below, listening next to his wall. He added Elmo’s goldfish Dorothy, including the enlarged detail panel of the fishbowl interior on the top left of the drawing.

What the hell?

Then there’s the impromptu stuff he creates and forgets about, like the one below:

Unless we are actively interfering with his lifestyle by forcing him to do things like eat, bathe or sleep, he is constantly in a state of creative expression.

When he yelled at me that his whole life was art, it immediately recalled a panel I did back in my one-panel days. I am so grateful that the performance piece of my son’s life is taking a decidedly more upbeat tone than the one I glossed over in works like this: