“Dad, if you could punch an art movement in the face, which one would it be?”
Jazzy asked me this question this morning. I kind of stood there and blinked my eyes for a bit, not sure what to answer. “I like Surrealism a lot, but I really don’t know enough about other art movements to pick a favourite to hate.”
She snapped back with, “Hanna says Rococo, and I say Post Modernism.”
“Po Mo is No Mo!” I responded. She seemed impressed.
“Did you just make that up?”
“No, it’s something we used to parrot a lot in film school.”
That was our Sunday morning conversation. I have to say, I’m kind of impressed with my progeny. She’s pulling in great marks at school, and she’s genuinely interested in genuinely interesting things.
I gave her my Hot Docs pass, and she poured through the conference schedule. Ran out of her room raving something about wanting to see the History seminar.
Last night her friend Hanna came over and they spent the evening watching movies, while eating snacks and polishing off the bottle of Champaign I gave Jazz for her birthday. When I awoke this morning, Jazz volunteered the biggest hug in the world. I kind of looked at her, not sure what I did to deserve it.
“That was the best birthday party ever Dad! Thank you!”
I wish every morning could be as warm as this one.