Felix drew a picture of Mog tonight. Mog, from the book. We had been reading Mog the Forgetful Cat. I read it all the way through, and then Felix wanted it again, but Antonia insisted we read Mog in the Garden instead, which is a more appropriate book for one year olds, though a little boring for four year olds. So I promised I would read Mog the Forgetful Cat again afterwards. But Antonia squeaked and squeaked. So I said I would put Antonia in the bath and Felix could sit on my lap while I watched her and I could read it then. But of course then I had to sing nursery rhymes, so it took quite a while to get through Mog the Forgetful Cat for the second time. As soon as I did, though, Felix scampered off to the table where I’d left the paper and textas for him, and he drew Mog.
Felix’s Mog has ears but no eyes. He went back afterwards and gave her legs. Mog is coloured in, carefully, all in grey. And I do not know the word for this feeling.
Pride, I guess. But that doesn’t seem to capture the quiet wondering awe I feel.
It’s only this year that Felix has started drawing things. In Australia he drew a ‘recycling factory’ – a blob with smaller blobs inside it for windows. But even after that, he really resisted any attempts we made to encourage him to draw things. He got so frustrated that he couldn’t match the picture in his head. ‘I know how you feel’, Michael told him, ‘I was never good at drawing. My Mum did my drawing homework.’ He tells the story with some bitterness.
For a while I encouraged Felix to fill up the whole page with scribbles, as I read somewhere that’s what they recommend at Montessori kindergartens – it makes the scribbles look better and the children are proud of them. He liked this suggestion and assiduously followed my advice.
And now he has started to draw. A few weeks ago he drew a fire engine in a few seconds flat – a large rectangle with wheels, coloured in red. And a while before that, he drew me a house, complete with bookshelves and chairs. I have it in my office. And now he has drawn Mog. A big, bold, lovely grey Mog. And I see his careful concentration and his idea and his shape on the page and all his little decisions and how brave you need to be to draw a Mog when you have never drawn a Mog before. And I do not know the word for this feeling.