Everybody Dance Now

I painted this for Illustration Friday's music prompt and for Michelle's crusade at GPP Street Team "What's Your Sign." These were Michelle's instructions: "The signs I'm talking about are images or things that make you think of a loved one. The thing that happens when seemingly out of nowhere you see something and it makes you think of someone." Whenever I see an image of someone dancing, I think of my oldest son Andrew, a free spirit if ever there was one. Developmentally, Andrew met every baby milestone early; he could roll the length of a room before he could even crawl. He is freaklishly coordinated and has a sense of rhythm, that, when combined with his innate hyperactivity, transforms him into a one-man drum line. He can raise one eyebrow, wiggle one ear, and roll his belly like a reptile. We've always joked that Andrew is an extra-terrestrial lifeform with appendages that function in superhuman ways. My husband often quotes Hunter Thompson when referring to our son and says, that Andrew is “One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production." He juggles; he backflips; he hula-hoops without even moving. He apparently emits a force that can make any inanimate object spin. We're not entirely sure that Andrew can not fly. Because he was too busy with sports, he never took any dance lessons, but girls still vied over who would get to be his partner in junior high school Cotillion dance contests. And, in high school, when he went with his theater friends to audition for acting scholarships at a fine arts college, he was offered a dance scholarship. Andrew always says that dancing gives him a feeling like nothing else, and I know exactly what he means because it does the same for me.

Figures dancing freely, joyfully, and without inhibition, are often pictured in my paintings, and journal pages because they remind me of that feeling and and they always make me think of Andrew. So, Andrew, sweetheart, this one's for you!