This is a picture I drew when I was four and a half:

I have a terrible memory. I hardly remember things that happened last week, let alone a year or two or three ago. And yet I distinctly remember drawing this picture. Not just that I drew it – I mean I remember actually putting my pen (felt tip) to paper to create it. You can see at the top my dad, King Dad, and my mom, Queen Mom. They pretty much look awesome. Trouble started brewing when I drew Princess Big Sister. As you can see, her veil got a little tricky. I remember getting frustrated with trying to make it look like it was flowing behind her, but didn’t want to draw any lines through her arms. Thus, the strange protective veil-bubble. Flustered, my first attempt at Prince Big Brother (on the far left, not colored in) was considered a failure, and in my head I decided it was actually just a statue of Prince Big Brother. My second attempt (in the middle) was more successful, but in my self-satisfaction, I forgot to give him any arms. I decided to draw myself standing next to my parents, but clearly the hubris messed with my mojo, and I quickly covered my mistake with a “bush”. The new narrative was that the royal family was out walking in the palace’s sculpture garden. I remember drawing myself last, down at the bottom. I liked very much how my body looked like Piglet’s.

I’m so glad that Mom set this one aside and framed it. It so neatly captures the process of drawing for me – full of surprises, pitfalls, and quiet satisfaction.