Art in times of chaos

freephotocc/Pixabay

“Please, go wash your hands first. It’s like all the colours of the rainbow have settled on your hands!”

Grandpa looks up from his paper as he hears Ma scolding Dee, smiling fondly at his grandbaby.

She had been snatched away from her paints and her easel for lunch by Mama again.

She runs to the sink and proceeds to wash her hands, the running water washing away what Mama thought was dirt.

“Those colours are really beautiful, Dee,” said grandpa, eyes on the yellows and blues fading away with each droplet. It reminds him of a past life, of himself with paint-splattered clothes and brush in hand.

Dee comes skipping back to the table and gives him the brightest smile.

“Aren’t they, Grandpa? Don’t they remind you of the world outside?”

“Is that why you paint? Cause it reminds you of the outside?”

“.. It helps me remember the good times, and it also helps me have something to look forward to in a way.”

“You’re not a child anymore, Dee. Stop playing with colours. You make such a mess of yourself every single time,” says Mama as she pours them a cup of tea each.

“But I always clean up after myself. Right, Ma?”

Cheeky, cheeky.

She gives grandpa a sad smile. But it’s not just for kids, she thinks. Was it her or art? Sometimes she wondered if her parents understood either.

Grandpa sends her a conspiratorial wink behind his cup of tea and takes a sip.

“Tell me more about your painting.”

“Well, it’s not just painting. I’ve always been interested in arts in general. I just didn’t have the time to really explore it because of school and stuff.”

The pandemic had given her plenty of time to do just that.

“Whenever I feel like I can’t express my emotions any other way, I find myself reaching for my brushes.”

“I think it’s helped me come to terms with whatever is happening. It hasn’t been easy, being locked up with literally nothing else to do. I miss playing outside. I miss going out with my friends. I just miss…life. And these colours bring back a bit of hope on days when things look a bit dark.”

Mama’s eyes softened a bit. She realized she had been misunderstanding her daughter a lot. What she considered a mess was a source of pure comfort for her.

The next day, Grandpa comes out of his room to a mess of paints, brushes and laughter between mother and daughter. He smiles and leaves the duo to bond over colours.

Art really does bring people together.

Note: This is based on a conversation with a Psychologist and art lovers