3 chords and the truth

My daughter sings with me sometimes, I think for the same reasons I do. Happiness multiplies when it is shared, and sadness fades when you find yourself strumming and warbling away, especially with company. Inspired by the most fundamental elements of her life, E improvises lyrics about playgrounds and the tulips, about the wish for a little sister. She takes pictures with my cameras too - self portraits, blurry snapshots of her toys, leftover wrapping paper from her birthday party, a scraped knee, her favorite pants. 

I used to sit next to my father in his studio, a stump of charcoal in my hand, learning to draw. Learning to draw the light, not the objects I thought were there. Draw what you see, he told me. It was so quiet there. Maybe the dog would be sniffing around or sleeping heavily. Just the scratch of the paper, the tinkling sound of his paintbrush in water, or turpentine. The light would just hang there, tiny bits of dust drifting around in the afternoon light. I was never tired or bored or hungry there, in the attic with him.

she goes to sleep

then she wakes up

she colors her hair

and goes to school

she wears red shoes

and every time she wants

she goes to the playground

I find it fascinating she sings about this other girl, although the details are all from her own life. There is a big difference between, "I go to sleep," and "She goes to sleep." E is singing about the routine of life, and all that is familiar to her.

But I know she has never seen a lemon tree. That's the part that blows my mind. I see her processing sadness and disappointment, turning it into something to share with the world. I see her joy, the small freedoms she feels and how these are there too. And I think she knows all of this.