rough draft

This book is dedicated to both my mentor and my muse- The mentor: My late mother, Connie Sue Miller Christoph, a free-spirited earth angel that fostered our creativity so authentically, I wish with my whole heart she was here. The muse: my dear son, Liam Christoph Beyer, the baby turned kid that keeps schooling me at motherhood. Without each of them, this tale would never be told. A true labor of love and sadness and art.

Preface

What the absolute hell just happened? That was every waking adult’s mindset in this country. Over night, we went from watching a situation develop in China, to watching it ravage Italy, to watching it wash upon our relatively young and naive shores. And yet, we stood before “it” clueless. And did nothing but argue about it like toddlers. Until it shut us down. Indefinitely and divided a divided nation even further.

Unprecedented and disorienting indeed. A novel virus, that very few even remotely grasped, but many pretended and wanted to! It rocked life as we all new it to the core. Like a tsunami, wrecking total havoc. Steam rolling civilizations. Yet less definable.

There were somewhat credible rumors it stemmed from a bat at first. A wet market in China. That it jumped from animal to human. That doctors in China died trying to shed light on it and from it! The world, the earth, turned completely upside down.

This whole global pandemic thing blew the ever loving minds of us “grown ups”. But what did it to to our dear children? Yanked from their comfortable classrooms, over night, never to go back again, I tear up just writing this. I mean they left that Friday thinking “Yay! Weekend!” And obviously assuming they would be back at their desks when Monday rolled around. Never to stroll through that same door with that same teacher and those same classmates again, no closure. No goodbye. They were bound to be emotionally affected. Add insult to injury, all of their extracurricular activities and sports were halted. Playgrounds were taped off like crime scenes. All. Play dates. We’re. Cancelled. Indefinitely. Oh and their fave stores and restaurants were off limits to them too. Did i mention Disney closed it’s doors? All proms and graduation ceremonies were axed. It sucked to be a kid. And yet, they adapted to a crash course in online learning, not seeing their friends on the daily, all their soccer games canceled like little bad asses. But it wasn’t easy on mom (and dad). Especially those of os with strong willed wild animals...

Chapter

You know the child. Feral, some said. Oh yes, when i heard that one, I rushed to the Internet to search what it meant, because it certainly felt right! Wild. You know- climbing the furniture, the cars, the walls, literally. And sometimes even kind of foaming at the mouth a bit, I swear.

Mischievous. OH MY GOD (and YES I’m almost praying when I say OMG!) That look in his eyes and on his face, those words!,out of his mouth that make you cringe! And fume! And wonder what you did wrong in a past life?! Rebellious to a rather scary fault. “Don’t do that!”

“Oh, mommy, watch me!” Obstinate. Stubborn. Check. Check. (The kid will challenge and defy me to my grave. I’m fully aware of this. )

Yep, an arsenal of words many of us use to describe our, hmm, I’m searching for kind words now, to describe the little humans we love and protect with every single bit of our being, uncalm-downable kids. You’ve gotten the notes home from school. “Liam wouldn’t stop talking and distracting other students”. “Liam was leaning back in his chair and making beeping noises”. “I asked Liam three times to stop and he wouldn’t”. Oh girl, I know!

Liam has challenged me to the darkest parts of my soul and the absolute end of my patience.

But as I write this, on the eve of Mother’s Day, tears... Those bastard burning tears that come this time every year since my first Mother’s Day as a mother, that happened to also be my first Mother’s Day without a Mother well- life can be a kick in the teeth.

But it can also serve you up some seriously cool hindsight and even some inspiration from the after life, even if in a super dark place. And that’s what this story is about.

Let’s be real. I took forever to grow up. And to not be the very “child” I described above. And some would contest me fervently, that I’ve grown up at all. Granted I know in my heart, having my own child was a crash course in such. Like, over night. But that’s not the point. And the point here, is- she was dealt such a spitfire (me) herself and she went on to teach hundreds of similar if not even more challenging characters. To teach them ART. And guess what it did? It transformed those kids. It took an unfocused, disruptive and even poor performing child and almost instantly catapulted them from caterpillar to butterfly. And absolutely yes, this had much to do with her warm, loved-filled vibe and energy, her Christlike heart.

But I’m here to tell you, dear flawed, hot mess, train wreck, at-the-end-of-your-rope mama, or dad! That ART, and really diving deep into it with your child, can change things for both you and your child, in such a positive way. Granted as i write this, we are most definitely still a work in progress.

But it can alter the trajectory of things. Lighten the load. Especially for them! And boost the hell out of their confidence. Hear me out.

I want to be straight- real. I’m making no claims whatsoever that you’re wild child is going to be an utter delight the moment you immerse them into art going forward. They’re not. But what I’ve personally seen, gradually, is an interest, and even a love forming. An outlet for my son and a calming, yet exciting confidence builder.

One more thing, as you sit with your wild child and begin these projects, you will find yourself wanting to do them as well. So do it! Sit beside them and create. Our inner child misses art class. It’s so cathartic and therapeutic.

And i thank my own most amazing mother, Connie Sue Miller Christoph, whom i lost to the horrible, cureless disease, ALS in 2011, 19 days after Liam was born, for my own wherewithal to discover such.

That’s where I must begin. And come back to over and again throughout this book. Because that woman was a saint. Yeah, yeah, we (almost) all love(d) our mothers and think/thought they’re the best. And see- Your mom is awesome! But this is about Mrs. Christoph. The art teacher that countless now grown adults continuously seek me or my brother out to say “she changed my life”.

And her legacy, well, it’s going to change my son Liam’s life too. Thanks to a pandemic.

I interrupt my own story with this breaking news: late afternoon on Mother’s Day 2020 itself, I received a message through Instagram that Liam’s Orca Art project was chosen by the nonprofit organization, Oceana, for their children’s Ocean art contest and that he would be sent a prize. I practically flew down the stairs of our home to share the news with him. To show him the photo of him holding his piece on their Instagram and Facebook page. His smile was the best Mother’s Day gift ever. “i can’t believe it!”, he almost whispered.

“Liam I told you it was awesome!”

Best. Mother’s Day moment. I had little happy tears in my eyes.

I’m so so thankful I retained my mom’s super sage words and finally had a painfully long moment (read: months) to explore her concept out of sheer desperation, thanks to the insane life slow down that was covid_19.

Chapter

Connie Sue Miller Christoph.

She just wasn’t 2D and encompass-able in such a fashion. A string of pages in a book could never do her justice. She was multidimensional, multifaceted, multi-worthy of parades and trailing airplane signs and billboards and marquis lights (granted saying this, I can visualize her smirk, her eyes squint a bit as she humbly shakes her head). Ask anyone that knew her! Then circle back to us, her children. We speak of her vibrant glow, and the absence of it regularly, to this day.

She was the sun- its warmth, its vibrance, its consistency. That was my mother. I hope she knew and felt that. Yet, she was also a waterfall- of this deep, endless, unconditional love, beautiful.

She was, and even though she’s no longer earth side, still is, my mom. And she was a passionate teacher of art for as long as I can remember being alive myself. I have no clue how I’ll fully articulate her passionate and boundless love and her truly cool creativity in this chapter, as gigantically as she’s worthy of. Daunting indeed! But she was also crazy humble. So I’ll try to let that guide me. Connie Sue was born in small town Kentucky to Clyde and Helen Miller. They eventually moved her to the L.A. area and then later to Illinois. Hopping around to such incredibly different locales had to influence her make up as a person. Such diversity in demographics, climates, scenery.

She met my dad, pretty much the second she started college. They formed an instant lifelong ( she died at 57) bond. And I do know she was majoring in art and education. They were both Christian hippies, which was somewhat of an oxymoron, in the ‘70s.

But it clicked and they had me. And then my dear little (now famous artist) brother.

She was such an awesome mommy. Her love was felt so much.

But not perfect, there is no such thing. I mean actually fell out of the car at four years old. A different time. No car seat laws. But my point is, we all screw up. Even earth angels. She undoubtedly was one. It’s strange how you can feel that warm, sunshiney vibe as you reflect upon your young childhood. She was so awesome.

So, my first solid memory of her teaching art was in Raleigh, N.C., at Ligon Middle School. I was attending Hunter elementary. I recall visiting her art room from time to time and exploring all the various mediums she was using with her students. I remember her students lingering around her art room, they adored her. Life was really so as close to idyllic as it could ever be, then. We had family close by, a lot of really diverse friends from all walks of life, and lived in a truly happening city.

Then, our family uprooted and moved from Raleigh to small town Lake Wales, FL. I was kicking and screaming all the way. I was a very, very unhappy camper. I’m quite certain that was hard on her mama heart. I remember her gifting me an oversized black sweatshirt that year and “puffy paint”, I went buck wild with that. Ironed it dry. Put it on and went strolling down our flat, boring new street on my new scooter, it was Christmas Day and I was wondering how it could be so hot in December?! I recall throwing a pre-teen tantrum about that too.

But, she did get to be my art teacher that first year in lake wales. I remember exactly how I felt, so lucky she was my mom. Everyone loved coming to her class, including me. She exuded infectious enthusiasm and warmth. I would give anything to relive some of those art sessions with her right now. Anything.

It’s common, almost redundant knowledge, that teachers don’t make a ton of money, but she certainly made sure our lives were rich. She and our father exposed us to foods from all around the world. Instilled a passionate value of and appreciation for art in our young little souls. She even took us to Paris, France on a shoestring budget my senior year. The Louvre being her Mecca. Montmartre, her artsy heart’s calling. But that city! It carved out a unique mark in each of our minds.

Eventually she settled into a lake wales school she would call home for 20? Years, Hillcrest Elementary. And she was over the moon happy about her shiny new art suite. Whenever I could, I visited her art room at Hillcrest and I especially loved making things with clay at the end of her day, watching her little student helpers whip her room into shape. She chose new helpers every year and those kids felt so honored and special. She got each of those kids really cool gifts at Christmas. Knowing the interests of each of their hearts.

Through my high school and college years, I got to see like literally millions of beautiful works of art by her students. She would bring them home to grade and tell me all about the objective and how she accessed them. So many cute, funny, and amazing pieces! It was always fascinating to see how each child interpreted the assignment. Year after year, hearing about the children that really settled into art, and focused! And produced truly cool work, despite being Tasmanian devils in their classrooms. Another idyllic time in its own right...

I will never forget the moment I learned of her diagnosis. I was sitting at my desk in Boca Raton, writing for the fashion brand, Boston Proper, when my father called to say they finally knew what was wrong.

A very brief bit of back story- she had slowly developed issues with walking and motor skills in her legs over a couple years’ time. Doctor after doctor after doctor and no sign of a diagnosis. It had been so frustrating to her and well, all of us, to not get a single clue or answer as to why, locally.

So back to that diagnosis. That horrible fucking diagnosis- He said, “It turns out it’s ALS, you know, that Lou Gehrig’s disease.” And my entire body went ice cold. I don’t even know how I replied or got off the phone with him. But I knew, I just knew, and here it was confirmed. I shut down my computer and walked out of work without speaking to anyone, right smack in the middle of the day. It was like an hourglass had just been flipped and sand was rushing through, so fast my mind spun, I could throw up. I knew I would lose her far sooner than I ever fathomed.

Losing her. The beginning. I started taking off as many Friday’s as i could, to go to work with her. Help her. Drive her home as her motor skills continued to decline. But, mostly to soak up her beautiful energy and joy, despite the odds she was facing. I knew not how much time I would be granted to do this. ALS is a death sentence with no cure. And she was this always positive and a tad naive (in a good way!) / innocent victim to it. She remained positive as it took her down gradually. But it was so hard to watch. So gutting and heartbreaking. Gosh, I wish it on no one. And think daily, yes, every single day about my dear sweet mom and how it stole her from us. I do believe though that she would want me

mosey my way and this story’s way back to the ability art has, to totally transform kids!

The way she intuitively spotted and drew out artistic talent in children, and with it, grew their confidence and trust.

When she learned I was pregnant, she said “you’re having a boy I just know it!” Which made me mad. Ha! I wanted a girl! But eventually I embraced the idea and chose an awesome nursery theme. I asked her and all of my artistic friends if they would contribute space inspired art to decorate my future little boy’s walls. She made a precious piece herself, but also contributed the cutest little kindergarten star art from one of her classes.

And her hugs. Oh her hugs. The warmth. The intensity, even when she has grown so weak. The vibe of love she transmitted through those hugs. I can almost feel the ghost of it as I write this. My arms tingle a bit, then grow cold. The affection deficit every human who knew her suffers from at some level as we carry on without her.

The truth of the matter is, you have no idea how much you’re learning and gaining and growing just by being loved and guided by someone that loves you.

Chapter

Liam Christoph Beyer

How the hell does one describe the birth, and after that, the intense mind and body explosion, the literal existence of their first human child? It’s a raw, beautiful, draining, cluster of emotions and sleep deprived acceptance. It’s so sweet, so fragile and precious. Yet. So brutal. That’s truth. And Liam, that gorgeous little creature, was born amidst turmoil. And let’s be real, his entry earthside was turmoil. That kid refused to exit my body. It was crash and burn hardcore, until that snuggly little swaddled child was in my arms, nursing like a pro. A darling, tiny pro. What a Friday night! I did have champagne. Really late! He was born at 10:59pm after all.

And I, wow, I refused to sleep after he was born, watching him breathe once finally asleep, his tiny chest rising up and down, as I laid there worrying about her. Her very last days alive.

I knew so very very much that she would want me to cuddle that sweet new boy and rest rest rest myself. But i couldn’t. Couldn’t rest at all as her hour glass ran out. And sadly, anxiety grew and was given life within me in this intensely transitional time.

Hugging that precious child to me gave me purpose and life though, I know that to this day. And I tell him that. “Liam, you saved my life.” I held him constantly. I danced with him. I ate while holding and nursing him. And finally i learned how to wear him. His existence truly kid save my life, I mean that fully.

I lost her. I gained him.

He was a joy and a surreal challenge. He really was my entire reason to breathe there for a while. And that kind of inspiration can truly become a positive. A life altering course. A silver lining. Liam was my silver lining.

Oh yes! That and so much more. Liam remains my patience lesson, I’ve yet to complete that course.

Becoming his mommy though, it was without question the most important role of my life. I had not one bit of an idea what I was getting into either. Pre-mom gig. Zero sleep. Diaper blowouts. And the most precious and amazing little face with gorgeous blue eyes staring at me, smiling, depending upon me entirely.

I got Liam in arts & crafts classes when he was not even two yet. He won for finished and out the door first! He wanted to move! Go fast! Never wanted to sit and go slow. But week after week i brought him back to class. It was his legacy. It helped me feel closer to her. It forged an invisible bond between them both, grandmother and grandson.

But as Liam grew, he was definitely über sports and namely soccer inclined. I would get him to create things with me from time to time but school and sports took were in the forefront and I honestly felt helpless. Liam’s elementary school focussed very heavily on academics and that meant after school he needed to expel energy. Badly. And tears passed. Like four art projects in four years came home from school. And in my gut I felt like I was failing to tap something inside my my complex little boy.

Cue a life altering pandemic!

Chapter Diatance Learning

‘Twas a crash course in home schooling indeed! And how it all began, like overnight, it felt...

The buzz words that wandered their way into our vernacular in the very early days of 2020 were suddenly being shoved to the forefront. Covid_19. Coronavirus. Quarantine. Shelter in place. Social distancing. Airborne virus. Lock down. A lot of head spinning words.

I remember that Friday well. The Friday before St Patrick’s day. I just read the article announcing all palm beach county schools were closing immediately and indefinitely right before Liam’s school got out. My mind spun.

I was not prepared to have an extra week of spring break with both kids full time, and without play dates and places to go! I knew afternoon homework was hell so i had no plans of even pretending i would do some sort of home school BS. Nope! I was in next level denial (and I’m positive most of you could relate!, this shit was unprecedented! Excuse my French). Had hopes they’d indeed have that extra week off, but go back soon after their scheduled spring break. But deep down, line way deep down, I knew otherwise. And I was like f-bomb, f-bomb, f-bomb (sparing you the French here). I had a four year old daughter at home. I loved our precious one on one days together. And again, afternoon homework with liam was similar to being skinned alive most days. I’d heard rumors online school was being put into place, just in case. I began to stock pile beer.

That unplanned first week off was legitimately chaos. We as a family had plans (and obviously, plane tickets) to travel to Germany for spring break, but that plan was crumbling. Yet, we had to fight to get our tickets refunded. While the kids were fighting like rabid tigers.

Every single extracurricular activity both Liam and Helena had was cancelling, everything was closing (you all know, you lived this too), and my walls-closing-in-like claustrophobia was kicking in, in an all knew completely surreal and anxiety inducing way.

I saw a good mom friend had taught her son to finally ride a bike in those first couple of stay at home hell hole days and I immediately dragged Liam’s bike out of the garage and essentially said “you’re doing that too, kid”. I saw him sinking into the pits of a sludgy little boy iPad wasteland quickly. This was a real reason to pull him off of it.

I ransacked the 8,000 bins of craft supplies I’d hoarded the last several years for crap I could have them make. I ordered box after box of sidewalk chalk. I drank beer after beer. Because beer or any adult beverage, was how you transitioned from A.M. to P.M. in this new reality. And P.M. did not have to be the regular 5 o’clock anymore. Cute little social “rules” like that went out my window, as social distancing closed and locked my door to the outside world.

So teaching him to ride a bike proved successful in two Boot Camp like days. So daily bike rides and daily chalk drawing sessions became the first new existence daily requirements, for Liam and I. He was used to playing soccer three times a week and now was doing nothing, but sitting on the couch, playing Roblox. So I went into survival mode, not just for myself but for him! A mental shift occurred, I knew my amazing little four-year-old girl was going to be fine during this, she has a vivid imagination and a joyful spirit, but he… A much different animal. I’m mourned the death of my mommy and Helena days for a minute, but realized he needed me more right then.

Holy cow! So much more. Like, essentially holding his hand Monday through Friday from 8AM until at least noon. With a very good chance of tears. Elevated voices. Hell, yelling. Patience running out in a horrible way. Drama, his AND mine. Just a whole lot of really ugly stress. Every. Single. Day. When I finally heard her voice.

“The most wild, misbehaving kids come to art, sit down and concentrate and create beautiful art!”

Ding ding ding.

I endeavored to find out.

So the new schedule would go as follows- well we would begin right around 8AM as we had been. Get through language arts and writing begrudgingly, then, tackle math. Mother trucking math. From the fiery pits of hell. If we didn’t kill each other during math, then once done, we would do art.

After art, science. 20 minutes of independent reading, then bike ride.

It felt well rounded and relatively logical.

So I began brainstorming. I wanted to keep things uncomplicated and realistic.

He would do his project each day in one spiral pad of medium weight paper. That way my chaotic soul wouldn’t lose it! Most everything would be created in pencil, colored pencil, marker, crayon and watercolor. Simply because easy, easy to pull out, easy to put away, in the middle of his distance learning school day with his non-organized mother. Fact. If i missed a beat, i lost his focus. So organization was key.

Let’s talk about the small or large elephant in the room depending upon how you look at it.

You could be reading this and thinking, my mother was not an art teacher. My brother is not a published illustrator. I don’t enjoy drawing or creating that much at all. That’s not my personality. Do you know what!? That’s the majority of you! I still encourage you to keep reading, get yourself some multi-purpose drawing/watercolor paper, some really fun colored pencils, watercolor paints and markers and give this a go! it could change your life. And I’m not exaggerating one single bit.

Chapter

Now About the

The Projects 🎨

I am a truly shitty sleeper. I blame my overactive mind. The silver lining to that? (Yep, Mrs. Christoph was the silver lining master!) All those hours throughout the night are occasionally crazy productive. Like when it came to crafting an impromptu art curriculum. 2AM, my eyes would open and I would think: “Draw your fave super hero! This could be a cool way to teach him about human proportions and sketching the human body!”

Or, “man, I should really show Liam impressionist works of art and have him emulate them with marker. “

Thankfully the ideas came into fruition in my mind on the regular. I would then draft a description of the project in a way I hoped would entice a 3rd grade boy, then dig up examples of famous or relevant works of art related to the subject. I would print this out, binder clip it together and almost throw it at him after math.

My heartfelt hope is, that you will find these projects and descriptions and real life images serve as transformative springboards for (not only) your crazytown kiddos, but yourself.

Not every single project is going to are resonate with your child (or your inner child). I’ve experienced that truth first hand with a very outspoken 3rd grader. That’s why I’m providing you with a plethora of options, and you can always come back and try a directive again if they/you didn’t “feel it” at first. Our vibes change.

A lot of these launch boards may or may not feel skewed a bit to the male gender, as this entire labor of love was inspired by a boy. But the cool thing is, girls can do anything. I’ve personally enjoyed creating most of these myself.

Chapter

Sea How Awesome

Orca art

This was an amazing and fluid project day. He sketched out his mama and baby Orcas so effortlessly. Then began coloring them in with the colored pencil set we’d been using in his sketch pad. I prodded him to do some of his lines and details in crayon though. To trust me on why. That it would be cool. He layered so much beautiful color in the ocean, mixing in crayons to my delight.

Then i pulled out the water color paint! I took a brush, immersed it in water then dabbed the blue paint. I brushed that onto the lid of our very cheap watercolor set. Rinsed my brush then dabbed it in green. Next, i swirled that around in the blue i added to the lid. Then, painted a couple strokes on a sheet of white paper. His eyes flickered and he dove in, mixing blue and green and adding more blue then a touch more green, then actually painting it onto his drawing and... “Oh my gosh this is so cool!!!”, he exclaimed. He’d obviously listened when you explained why I wanted him to add crayon.

“It’s resisting! The crayon is resisting!”

This particular piece came together so fluidly. It was magical. And once done, just absolutely gorgeous.

Chapter

Bionic animal

Of all animals, he chose a chicken and he rocked it. he dove into this project with gusto! No other word to describe it. And he mastered making his feathered character half chicken half robot chicken.

Chapter

Egyptian Art

His reaction was kind of what the heck?! But as his eyes scanned my various examples of Egyptian Art and hieroglyphics, he saw Anubis and said, I’m drawing him! OK cool, but fill the entire page! No white! A lot of texture and detail! He rolled his eyes, “don’t say texture anymore”. He set to it.

Chapter

Roman art

This one pissed him off. But turned out fierce and quite good! Liam has always loved knights. Every time we visit his uncles in Cleveland and go to the amazing art museum there he ambles his way to the permanent knight armor display.

Chapter

Abstract Art of Miro and Kandinsky

It was so cute he was like why would anyone do abstract art? Like what is it even supposed to be?

Once he started working on it though he was smiling and feeling so much more free than he did the day before mastering the Roman soldier

Chapter

Design your own cereal box

He jumped on this one. It was actually our first art assignment, and he jumped into it with such gusto, an idea was born. I would be implementing daily art!

Chapter

Impressionism

Got totally annoyed by the dots and dashes. Like why would we do it like that, he fought me on fluid lines and completely filling in spaces but then saw the final result and was so impressed and dare I say mesmerized.

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Futuristic city

This was interesting. It seems this concept made his imagination go wild! He drew so fast and yet the words running out of his mouth flew out far faster. It seemed he wanted to be in his own vision of a futuristic city.

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Design your own coat of arms

Liam jumped on this project with ideas bursting out of his head like fireworks. A sign of the times? The fox that was the front and center feature of his design donned a covid_19 mask.

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Design your own mythical beast

We ran into a bit of a dilemma on this one. And I had to talk to the boy child about copyright infringement. He can be so obstinant. He told me the mythical creature he was creating was from his imagination, but having a father who watched Star Wars my entire childhood, I knew I’d seen his character before. So! Back to the drawing board we had to go!

Chapter

Drawing in 3D

This exercise in three dimensional shapes in art and life pissed him off until it didn’t.

Liam HATES doing ANYthing that challenges him. Once he saw that the shapes he labored over could be turned into real objects, his mood turned around. I need a padded room.

The Directive:

Drawing in 3D

Isn’t it cool how some art that you know for a fact, is completely flat, tricks your eyes into thinking its three dimensional (3D)?

Today you’re going to learn how turn plain old squares and triangles into cubes and pyramids.

Give each shape a try. Shade and color them in. Take it to the next level and turn your 3D shape into something.

Check out the famous art by Salvador Dali and MC Escher for some really cool inspiration. Do you see how they made aspects of their drawings 3D?

Chapter

Design your own travel poster/ad

The process in which these project directives have come into fruition is otherworldly. Liam mentions a flamingo. My mind drifts to David Beckham’s Miami soccer league logo (NOT a flamingo, but the bird’s stance is similar and Liam lives soccer, to be clear), my own brother’s travel illustrations, what medium(s) should be used. I seek out inspirational images , type up the lesson, print it out and cross my fingers. Liam is a rough critic!

The Directive:

The Flamingo- & The Travel Ad 🦩

You’ve seen flamingos at the zoo. And as logos and on t-shirts and fabric prints.

Did you know? A flamingo’s wingspan ranges from 3.3 - 5 feet. The color of their feathers is a result of what they eat: pigments in their food (called carotenoids) are responsible for the pink colors of their feathers. They eat shrimps and crustaceans…

Fun fact:

Did you know some soccer teams have used flamingos and other birds as their mascot?

Did you know? Florida’s main industry is tourism! Tourism involves the activities of people traveling to and staying in places outside their usual environment for fun and leisure.

Today you’re creating an ad. It will feature the flamingo. Your flamingo should be surrounded by palm trees 🌴, a beachy 🏝 background and cool block letters reading “FLORIDA”. So make it beautiful and inviting. Can’t wait to see it!

Chapter

We were definitely getting on each other’s nerves that morning. And that inspired that day’s project, off the cuff.

And true to form, Liam pretty much bucked the instructions and went off the grid a bit, which is totally cool! That meant he felt it in his own way.

The Directive:

You’re bugging me!!!!

Today’s project is like art + science. Have you ever really stared at a bug? Like really really stared at it, close up? They’re so creepy, yet cool! Today, take a stab at illustrating a few bugs of your choice, focusing on their intricate lines and details, color them in, then create their natural environment in the background. Think rich green leaves, clumpy, filthy brown dirt, a beautiful blue sky. Or, be like a scientist and label each of your specimens with its name.

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