The DaVinci Coyle

Thanks Nange for the finger paint, and thanks to Mom and Dad for carting it over in their luggage! Allow me to explain... I remember that I loved finger painting when I was a kid, the joy of dipping your fingers into the gooey paint and spreading it all over a sheet of paper. It probably went other places too, but I only remember the paper. Selective memories, you know :)
Anyway, I thought that Eamonn might enjoy the experience as well, but could not find finger paint in Ireland, much less non-toxic finger paint. Angie went on a mission and found it for us, and my parents brought it with them on their visit. Now back to if Eamonn liked the experience: he did indeed. Here's a portrait of the artist contemplating his first masterpiece, before he gets painting (and painted!):


And getting started:


Note the apple in his hand. In these photos it is green on the outside, white on the inside, as an apple should be. But as things got progressively more artistic, the apple too took on a new life in shades of blue, pink and orange. Much like the inside of Eamonn's mouth. Bless those non-toxic paint elves!
At first Eamonn did alright with staying on the paper, and we would try to keep up with him by switching the sheets when one got too full. The first switch did NOT go over well, as Eamonn thought we were taking the pad away from him and he was clearly not done expressing himself. Once he figured out that we were just giving him another blank canvas he was ok with the process. At a certain point I stopped taking pictures because I, too, was pretty full of paint. But until then, here was the progress:






Everything was going so well. So why did I feel the need to make it go "better"? I just don't know what possessed me... Eamonn was dipping his finger into the pots and the paint level kept getting lower and lower, so I thought it might be easier for him if I poured a bit of the paint out onto some old newspaper where he could stick his fingers into a pool rather than a small opening, and have the opportunity to put his whole hand into the paint if he preferred. Well, I basically showed him that it was ok, and "hey, here's how!" to make large puddles of paint. Which he proceeded to walk into. And then - woohoo! - he discovered that your feet SLIDE in paint, and as I was holding him up he was "skating" in the paint underneath me, laughing and having a grand old time, but man my arms were about to fall off holding him up! Sorry, I got no pictures of this particular event, my hands were full of laughing squirming squealing toddler... but the concrete still bears the scars:


And finally, the fruits of his labor: