For our prompt of “Mittens” today, I decided to sketch a happy little snowman wearing a pair. When I was a kid there was nothing better than looking out the window and seeing the snow falling for the first time in the season. Anytime it snowed was fun, to be sure, but that first snowfall was always so exciting. Of course, to make a snowman, a lot of snow is required. So, I also remember hoping it wouldn’t stop and we’d get a full and proper snowfall. These days, I don’t make snowmen and have to drive in the stuff, so I tend to hope it falls just enough without making the roads too precarious. But every time I see a light and fluffy snow drifting down from the sky, it still feels magical. And, I’m always tempted to run out and create a snowman, but I live in the city and don’t have a yard of my own. Though I always preferred gloves over mittens when I was young, I have to admit that they’re perfect for building a snowman. Packing down the snow without a lot of obvious handprints. Though mine never came to life like the one in that song, it was still a wondrous thing. A friend that only came around at a certain time of year. Though watching your new friend melt was also a bit sad. So, I always liked to believe that he just went back up into the sky flake by flake.
Today, Philippe and I went out to lunch as we’re still in vacation mode. And just like being on vacation, we overindulged a bit so we were rather lethargic this afternoon. Even though we wanted to just crawl back into bed, we decided to keep cracking on this year’s puzzle. We’ve made good progress and will certainly finish it this evening. My mother always glues the puzzles that we complete together. When I was there visiting earlier this month, she pulled some out as one might a stack of photos. What struck me is that she told the story of making them. How the dinosaur puzzle was difficult in places that had the same color, but how my nephew managed to get all of them put together. At that very moment he jumped up to continue the story of how they tackled this puzzle together and won. It wasn’t just a picture anymore. It was a shared trophy. And I realized that she wasn’t gluing the puzzle together to keep the picture, it was to preserve the memories of those moments together.
Our dog Phineas is still sitting at the table with us while we put together our puzzle. He looks a bit bored, but determined to be part of this odd family tradition. He occasionally sniffs his disapproval and shakes his head sadly. No doubt, he’s thinking that only an idiot would purchase a broken picture. Yet, then he rallies and looks intently at the pieces like he’s willing them into their proper place. Philippe asked if we were going to glue it and keep it. Perhaps we should. This is certainly a moment worth preserving. And though a snowman can’t be preserved like that, it’s wonderful to make a little sketch of one. As the childhood memories came rushing back to me, I found myself drawing the feeling more than any actual moment. This isn’t a particular snowman that I remember making, but the entire experience of fresh snow, fresh dreams and moments filled with infinite happiness. It’s another memory of lovely family moments preserved. So, no matter how old I get each passing year, I’ll never be able to forget the joy of falling snow.
About the Doodlewash
Da Vinci Paint Co.: Gold Ochre, Quinacridone Red, Cobalt Turquoise, Terra Cotta and Ultramarine (Green Shade). M. Graham: Titanium White Goauche. Staedtler Pigment Liners in an A5 Hahnemühle Watercolour Book. Want to purchase a print of this doodlewash? Send me a note with a link to this post, and I’ll add it to my shop!