The Little Willow Tree Painting

I was blessed with a simple and rich early childhood, spent running free on a small holding in sunny South Africa. Born to a brilliant horticulturist and a soft spoken mother, with my big sister and younger brother as companions. We woke up free to spend our days running wild. We had trees to climb, gardens to eat out of, ponds to swim in, and a room... a room called; “The Playroom.” In this room, you were free to do anything, without one single thought for consequence. At the heart of The Playroom, there stood a table, specially crafted for us. Its legs were made in a way that they could grow taller as we grew taller. And on this special table you were free to create anything you could dream of in any way that pleased you. I have a memory of my small hands and arms, covered in that swampy green colour that is a common sign of having gone way too far. My fingers running little waves all along the edge of our table. My brother and sister opposite me, streaks of swamp green in their messy hair, and swamp green on their laughing faces, as they came closer and went away, and came closer again, basically doing some sort of breast stroke on the spot in the paint that covered every inch of our special table. So much paint, so much canvas, so much creative freedom. In a room where, if you wanted too, you could open a suitcase of colouring pens and colour in the tiny block pattern of the linoleum floor. You could melt your wax crayons in the flame of a candle, use the dog's paws as stamps, or paint white stripes on the black cat. You just did whatever it was you found yourself doing with an endless, magical supply of materials that would just be there, waiting, neatly in the cupboard for you to come get whatever you needed. And when you got bored or tired, or cold, or hungry, you left The Playroom and got looked after. Then, if your heart so desired, you could return to this fantastic room, and like true magic, everything would be back on its place. The cat washed and happily drying off in a sunbeam, everything clean and ready for you to start your next creative adventure. It is this boundless gift of creative freedom, and these artistic adventures that shaped me. These, unforgettable, formative experiences that instilled in me a profound love for painting freely, delighting in splashing and flicking paint onto my canvas.