Mermaid Mom

Mermaid Mom

Mermaid Mom
Mermaid Mom

I’m a mermaid mom. At least I am to Tiny-Small. As I work on this painting, she often runs into the room exclaiming, “Dat’s MY Mom!” She even kissed it once. Mermaid mom is way more popular than regular mom because she never enforces bed time, never says no, and never says never. She is also physically incapable of putting anyone in time-out. It all seems a little unfair, but then I remember I am getting jealous over a painting. That sounds ridiculous, right? Mermaid mom is winning this mom competition without even trying. Plus, Tiny-Small loves mermaids, even more than I do. Which is probably saying a lot. Especially since she has lived in a mountainous, desert region for her entire and has only been to the aquarium twice (and neither one had any mermaids). She’s the product of two people who grew up on the coast and miss it…desperately.

Mermaid Mom art
Mermaid Mom close-up.

We’re back in the studio again. After cleaning it up yesterday I am already back to making it a mess. Paper and collage work is messy. Plus, I keep cutting out Medusa hair and tiny pieces of blue and half of them fall to the floor where I seem to step on them.

Art Easel with Mermaid Mom Painting
My Easel: I Love You

It feels good to be back at the easel. I think my back is much happier. Bending over the table to work on a flat surface takes its toll after a while.

Sketches for mermaid mom painting
Art Collaboration: Tiny-Small Painting My Sketches

Tiny-Small has been busy painting over my preliminary drawings. She says, “Dis one ME, Mom. Dis one me.”

studio cat - Lillian Connelly
Studio Cat gone wild.

Ophelia, the studio cat, is busy trying to knock my easel over and trying to trip me up by weaving around the easel legs, around my legs, and then around the easel legs again. Art is a full contact sport at my house. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Although, sometimes I worry about falling into my easel and having to dial 911 and explain that my cat just tried to kill me and no, that’s not blood, that’s paint. I dread the day. Knocking on wood right now in a superstitious attempt to keep it from ever happening for real.

I’ve noticed as Tiny-Small gets bigger so does my imagination. I’ll do just about anything to make that little girl smile. Even paint mom mermaids, with Medusa hair, that she can kiss goodnight. I’ll even do it while a cat tries to kill me and Tiny-Small obliterates every sketch I have ever made.

Love is a dangerous thing, isn’t it?


P. S. In case you haven’t noticed (even though I am blabbering on about it all over social media) I am in a Jerry’s Artarama self-portrait contest. If you have a moment would you go to Pinterest and vote for my painting by liking it? If I win, I’ll be able to buy lots and lots of art supplies.  Yay! 

Vote For My Self-Portrait By Clicking Here And Then Clicking LIKE Thank you!





10 thoughts on “Mermaid Mom”

  1. Yeah people, go and vote for the painting!
    When my Englishman has a flow of inspiration his study looks like one giant mess – and I got so used to it…I can’t really win with art, can I? Therefore I always thought mess is synonymous with inspiration! 🙂

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