Passing the Torch, Er, Heat Gun...

I bet you thought I forgot about you today, didn't you? I know my m.o. has been to post in the mornings. Today was an exceptional day, however. And exceptional days call for flexibility! I know if I just let this day pass by, I may likely drop the ball again as I have in the past. We can't have that, though. So here I am. A little late, but here I am.

Yesterday's adventure was filled with glorious, meltilicious color and fun. I enjoyed experimenting with melting leftover crayons and spreading them all over the place. Well, I did exercise some self-control and kept the color explosion to scrap wood. What ultimately encouraged me most about the whole endeavor, however, was the excitement it fueled in my Bugaboo's heart to attempt the same thing.

Bugaboo has such a brain for spacial relationships and has created quite a number of art pieces that have taken my breath away. Anyone who knows me knows at least four of her creations grace my living room. And they all look like art I paid for. Well, okay, two of them do. The other two are finger paintings where you can just make out her teeny hand prints in the globs of color. I'm sentimental, so kill me. And I digress anyway.

Bugaboo was so delighted with "supernova", she asked to take it to school to show her teacher. Inspired to share this new-found crayon capability, Bugaboo came up with the idea to make her own crayon art to share with her art teacher the following day.

So, after homework time but before bath time, we took some time to camp out by the only exterior outlet we have to do some melting. Call me crazy, but I was able to face flying critters of all sorts at the mere mention of melted crayons and a heat gun in the hands of my seven year old. My poor carpet wouldn't have stood a chance. Grass, on the other hand, is much more forgiving.

It was a fun adventure for both of us as she chose her colors and I helped her to safely use the tools necessary to create her own little masterpiece. And thirty minutes later, as we prepared to get ready for bed, she came into the house as proud as a peacock.

I wonder how that would look in my family room bathroom?....

Getting the hang of holding the heat gun and the crayon with pliers. We quickly reassessed our positioning with the cord dancing so closely to the crayon's locale.

The title she chose: "Raging Seas"