This is the third portrait that I've done of my kids in the last year or so. It was done for the LDS Church Art competition. I guess I'll find out if it was accepted later this month. It is acrylics on lace, overstitched with embroidery. I love it. I included three picture of the process, in case anyone is interested.
This is what I wrote about the piece:
Last fall my oldest daughter, Molly, turned 12. She does not, in general, go easily into transition, and her move from Primary to Young Womens was no exception. She is tall, studious, a little gawky and almost always awkward in social situations. I ached a little each week watching her walk into that room full of beautiful, confident teenagers. One of her first activites was a Secret Grandmother Dinner. Each girl was assigned an older sister to visit with. I was there helping serve the food, and I watched from across the room as Molly’s “grandmother” would ask her questions and Molly would answer with two or three word and then retreat to herself. I felt a little frustrated with the situation, with Molly and with myself as her mother.
A little miracle happened for me then. As I walked back in the room with dessert, I saw Molly again and the words came into my mind that “Molly is your work.” I knew that the work Heavenly Father has given me to do with my life is to raise and teach my children. I felt so much gratitude that Heavenly Father would trust me with this work. I more easily saw Molly as a child of God and as a work in progress. I saw this short awkward time as a period of learning and growing for Molly and for me. And I saw a little more clearly how this is my work, but even more it is the work of my Heavenly Father.
I made this portrait of Molly to record my feelings from that night. Behind her are embroidered words that describe what she and I want her to become. I don’t care if she chooses to become an astronaut or a librarian or a gardener, but I do care that she chooses to be kind and righteous and good. This is my testimony of parenting and my testimony of the kind of parent that our Heavenly Father is.
