Would You Like to Swing with a Duck?, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6
Elizabeth W. Seaver
It is hard to believe that my 30+ day odyssey is over. All the paintings in my 30 x 30 show are up and out, and what a fun thing it has been to write and interact with my blogging friends about them. Thank you for joining me on my silly journey.
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"Peabody, can't you do anything right?" his teacher asked. "Everyone knows how to use a stapler--look at all these flat staples on the floor. Clean this up!"
"Peabody, I told you to clean your room. You've been daydreaming again, haven't you?" his mother fussed.
"Peabody can't ride a bike!" the neighborhood kids teased. "Peabody doesn't know anything, nyah, nyah, nyah."
Well of course none of that was true. Peabody was no different from everyone else. There was lots he was good at; it's just that it was hidden way inside, out of the view of most people most of the time. Inside, he created rich, complicated stories in his imagination. And far away from critical, prying eyes, he drew pictures to illustrate them. One day, he would publish his fabulous tales, and he'd show the whole world what he could do.
On top of that, as if there needed to be more, Peabody could swing. He was fearless and stretched himself completely horizontal, pulling himself straight up to heaven. The whistling wind and freedom from earthly troubles created a bubble of happiness all around him. He could feel it from the tip of his blood orange colored beak to his sunset toes.
No one could imagine or swing like Peabody.