What is Process Art?

He was ready. I gave him a tray, a paper, and a paintbrush. Next came what he was really waiting for. I set the bowl of shaving cream, glue, and pink paint in front of the 16-month-old. He grinned so wide his eyes closed. Then he plunged right in.

The end result was a puffy-ish sort of abstract image that looked like raspberry sherbet had melted and spilled all over his paper. And the 16-month-old was pinker than he will probably ever be again, with paint up his arms, all over his paint shirt, and on his face.  It may have been in his hair, too.

It was an absolute mess. But it was a good mess.

Process art might be more easily defined by what it isn't. Process art is not coloring pages. It is not adult-directed art projects with specific steps and rules. It isn't right or wrong. These would all describe product art.

In contrast, process art is open-ended, allowing each child to explore their own ideas and make their own, completely unique masterpiece.

"[W]hile product-oriented projects could teach a child to follow directions or develop hand-eye coordination (both undoubtedly useful skills), they probably won't help a child develop the higher-level skills of curiosity, creative thinking, problem-solving, imagination, or innovation that are so important for 21st century thinkers" (Rachelle Doorley).

Until a couple of years ago, I had never heard of process art. As a teacher, I have found it much easier to implement open-ended art activities than it would be to try adult-led projects. I don't have to trace, draw, cut, or hole punch anything to prepare our art activities. I just give the kids the materials and let them do all the work!

"If we want our children to thrive in the highly unknown future, they’ll be best equipped if they can learn to think for themselves.  These higher-level thinking skills won’t develop through copying or following directions, but through the processes of problem-posing that goes along with invention and experimentation...When children have the opportunity to explore new ideas, test a theory, and iterate, they develop a strong sense of self and learn to think like innovators. And isn’t that really the point of education?"  (Rachelle Doorley)

Why do we do art with young children? Are we trying to instill impressionist or realist techniques in one-year-olds? Are we trying to create another Rembrandt? Michelangelo? They don't have that capability. (Who are we kidding? I don't have that capability.)

When these kids are little, what is more important - to learn professional art techniques? Or to learn how to explore, make choices, and approach projects creatively?

Maybe we should paint with raspberry sherbet next.

God's Not Bored

We had been over this more times than I could count.  How many times must we repeat ourselves for this pre-k drama queen to understand that the world doesn't revolve around her friends' opinions of her? "I'm afraid other people won't like me," she told me.  I had tried to talk her through this before, consoling her and offering encouragement. This time I had had enough.  "If you don't want to play with your friends, that's your choice," I told her kindly, but firmly.

But a few minutes later, as she still wiped crocodile tears and looked to me for consolation, I tried to talk her through it one more time.  "Does God love you?" I asked, only slightly impatiently, to encourage her to think through this on her own.  "No," she answered.  "I think He gets bored of us."

Even in the Deep Blue Sea
There really is no other way to put it.

Disgusting. It had to be disgusting. There in that great fish for three days and nights with seaweed, saltwater, undigested plankton, and whatever else it ate - the smell alone must have been repulsive.

As easy as it might be to feel sorry for someone in that predicament, Jonah had no one to blame for it but himself.

His own choices, his own decisions, his own disobedience brought him here.  He should stay here - a long time.  Maybe forever, don't you think? God is under no obligation to rescue Jonah from the prison he brought on himself.

But.

Prison Life
Just a few short hours before I found myself counseling my five-year-old friend, I had flipped the pages to my daily Bible reading assignment: Psalm 69.

Just like Jonah, our little drama queen was in a prison she had fashioned for herself. But they were never alone there. "For the Lord hears the needy and does not despise his own people who are prisoners" (Psalm 69:33).

Here I was, with a little girl in a "prison" of fear of man - a prison where I have made my own home far too often.

Time and Time Again
Does He get bored of us?  It would make sense if He did.  Day in, day out, the same mistakes over and over.

Every day I get myself in another mess.  It's my fault, my problem.  What if I have the same problem as Jonah? As our drama queen? As nearly everyone in the history of the human race?  Does He grow weary of rescuing us time and time again from the same predicaments?  Does He get bored of His creation of man?

I would.  But He doesn't.

He does not despise His own people who are prisoners...

"Dragon!"

They say that play is a child's work.  Whether or not that is always the case, the five-year-old boy was taking his play very seriously.  The goofy antics of his two-year-old brother would not distract him from his mission.

Equipped with the plastic armor from the dress-up closet, the older brother solemnly surveyed his knightly jurisdiction in the basement.  His little brother understood the role play.  "Dragon!" he squealed gleefully and took off running, expecting his brother to follow.

His elder brother didn't move a muscle.  With great seriousness to match his weighty responsibility, he turned to his younger brother.  "No," he said calmly.  "Knights don't run away from dragons."

Provided For
If there is ever any question about whether or not Christians will face difficulty in this world, Paul's conclusion to Ephesians takes care of that.  After reading about "schemes of the devil," "cosmic powers over this present darkness," and "spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:11-12), it's no wonder we need armor for this life.

But, just like every other true need we face in this life our Good Shepherd "'knows what you need before you ask him'" (Matthew 6:8).  Undoubtedly, we need armor and, just as assuredly, He provides it.

Imagine a knight in medieval times given his first coat of armor.  It would be strong.  It would perfectly fit his needs in battle.  It would be a gift.

In the same way, as Christians, we are given our own coats of armor, as illustrated in Ephesians 6.  The armor of God is strong.  It is exactly what we need.  It is a free gift.

Our Captain gives us everything we need.  Truth, righteousness, readiness from the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, the Word of God - all of it is provided for the soldiers of God.

A Scaredy-Knight

Imagine the king visiting that same knight in medieval times and asking how the battle went.  Imagine the king's response if the knight replied that he had never fought in battle...

King: "You haven't fought at all?  You have been a knight for some time now and you still haven't served in battle?  Why not?"

Knight: "To be honest, I don't want to be hurt.  I'm afraid."

King: "But I gave you a coat of armor!  A brand new coat of armor that fits you well and perfectly matches your needs in battle!  Armor is made to be used, friend.  It will protect you as you wage warfare for the kingdom."

A conversation like this probably never happened - I know.  But how often do we hold that knight's excuse in our hearts?

Whatever Comes

In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul builds a case for the resurrection of Jesus from the dead and our eventual resurrection into eternal life.  Toward the end of the chapter, the climax of his case, he exults: "But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Corinthians 15:57).

It's true - the victory is ours!  Eternally won by Jesus' sacrifice, our inheritance is "kept in heaven" for us (1 Peter 1:4) and nothing can ever change that.  We are Christ's.  We are His children, and, if you will, knights in His kingdom equipped with armor He provides.

And armor is made to be used.

After Paul's triumphant statement in 1 Corinthians 15, he finished the chapter with a charge: "Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Steadfast.  Immovable.  Always abounding in God's work.  He has given us the victory, so our work will never truly fail.

When we face "schemes of the devil," "cosmic powers over this present darkness," and "spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places," there will be times when lies and problems cloud our view of our sure victory.  But we have no need to fear.  No matter how dark, difficult, or dangerous, no matter the risk or the problem or the struggle, we have been given the victory and are equipped to stand in the battle and face whatever comes.

Knights don't run away from dragons.

Image Credit

Six Things I Learned in Pre-K This Year

In December of last year, I began working in the afternoons with five-year-olds at a local daycare.  The school year ended last week, and while some of the children will be sticking around for the summer program, others have moved on and will be attending kindergarten in the fall.  I hope to see several of them again sometime, but even those I will never see again have taught me a lot over the last few months!  Here are a few things I learned from five-year-olds this year:

Every child is different.
Okay, so I already knew this.  Still, it was fascinating to learn some of their different personalities and interests: we had some who were loud and outgoing and others who were quieter but loved one-on-one attention.  One didn't like jellybeans.  Another could talk all day about snakes or underwater animals.  Each one of them brought to school their own way of looking at the world, and I enjoyed a glimpse into their perspectives.

Heroes are influential in a child's life.
One day I quizzed the kids on what they want to be when they grow up.  Most of them listed "veterinarian" or "teacher," but one five-year-old boy insisted on "herpetologist" (and no, I didn't know what that was).  "Like Steve Irwin," he explained.  "He got stung by a sting ray.  I want to be like him."

Frozen songs are catchy.
Have you seen the movie?  Then no explanation is needed.

Sometimes it's the little things...
In the spring we had caterpillars in a plastic box in our classroom.  The kids enjoyed seeing the cocoons, and absolutely thrilling was the day when one of the cocoons started shaking and vibrating.  It was snack time, but all fifteen children jumped out of their seats to watch the former caterpillar leave its temporary housing behind.  As I watched the butterfly adjust to its wings, I had to admit that it was truly fascinating.

What others think about me shouldn't be at the top of my priority list.
This is an interesting one for me - I've always struggled with this, and one of the five-year-olds who was in our class this year thrives on positive attention from others.  Countless times we talked about how to respond when someone didn't like the way she did something (or the song she sang, or the dress she wore, etc.), and how resting in what God thinks of us takes away our worry over what others think.  One day, I was trying to help her understand that even if someone didn't praise her coloring picture, she didn't have to be bothered by that.  She could enjoy what she was doing no matter what the other children thought.  As I was talking with her, I realized how much I needed to hear that, too!  No matter what others think of how well I do something - or anything else - it doesn't have to bother me, either.

The most meaningful gift isn't always the most elaborate.
Whether it was for Christmas, or Valentine's Day, Teacher Appreciation Week, some of the gifts the children (or their parents!) gave us were very generous.  There were flowers, gift cards, and candy - all of which I have truly appreciated.  But the gifts I will treasure the most are those that cost the children nothing but their time.  Coloring pages and cards with childlike handwriting and mistakes, with undecipherable artwork that they had to explain to me ("it's a machine that makes hearts") - those are what I will keep the longest.  It's a reminder, too, when it is my turn to give a gift to someone else: Do I just choose something that seems like a good gift, or do I really put myself - my heart - into it?

Image courtesy of David Castillo Dominici / FreeDigitalPhotos.net