Nevermore
10-13-2007, 09:48 AM
Last night (Friday night) Max suggested that we play with PS. He wanted to do a collaboration. Turns out he didn't really, he just wanted me hanging around to help him with anything he couldn't figure out.
I couldn't believe how he approached his piece (no way it was ours--he is just too bossy and controlling. Must get that from his dad). Made me realise I am all talk to a large extent. He really did play, without fear. I couldn't believe how he used some of the brushes. (I actually made a note to come back to a couple of them). But what I loved was his quirk instinct. I put a cute bird on the layout (that was as far as I got to go before the mouse got reclaimed). He immediately lasso-ed the head and moved it! "Awk," I squawked but before I could protest further, he then cut one eyeball out and moved it back to where it would be if the chicken still had a head. And then took the remaining eyeball and transformed it so that it was HUGE.
"Please save this," he said and hopped out of the chair. "As what?" I asked. "Dead Chicken", he said. He was laughing so hard it was infectious.
My goal this weekend, as taught to me by my son, is to laugh at least once while quirking. And to try to shake off the "fear" a little and loosen up. Dead Chicken indeed!
I couldn't believe how he approached his piece (no way it was ours--he is just too bossy and controlling. Must get that from his dad). Made me realise I am all talk to a large extent. He really did play, without fear. I couldn't believe how he used some of the brushes. (I actually made a note to come back to a couple of them). But what I loved was his quirk instinct. I put a cute bird on the layout (that was as far as I got to go before the mouse got reclaimed). He immediately lasso-ed the head and moved it! "Awk," I squawked but before I could protest further, he then cut one eyeball out and moved it back to where it would be if the chicken still had a head. And then took the remaining eyeball and transformed it so that it was HUGE.
"Please save this," he said and hopped out of the chair. "As what?" I asked. "Dead Chicken", he said. He was laughing so hard it was infectious.
My goal this weekend, as taught to me by my son, is to laugh at least once while quirking. And to try to shake off the "fear" a little and loosen up. Dead Chicken indeed!