A girl and her horse, paper dolls.
I think I've mentioned before that I was an art kid from a young age, and that I'd accepted the fact that Anna wasn't. Despite the cartons full of art supplies that I've hauled out at various times, she was always more interested in building, or climbing, or pretend play.
All that has changed overnight. My house is awash in drawings and “paper dolls”. My former eating machine of a child will sit at the table, her food pushed to the side, while she focuses intently on the details of each dress, each smile, each letter.
Needless to say, I'm smitten.
Dorothy, paper doll.
A portrait of Mama, paper doll.