Snowglobe Philosophy

I saw the elementary art classes’ snow globes at the library.

“Ooh,” I said to my daughter, “I may just have to make a snowglobe collage when we get home.”

Now, looking at the photo I took this afternoon, I wished I had studied it just a little before diving into my own snowglobe. Truthfully, at the art gallery, we had spent more time studying the bees and their hexagons,

And some of the chameleons.

I wish I had pursued art a little more when I was in school. I think no one encouraged me. The kids that were good at art seemed naturally good at art, just like those who were good at writing were good at writing.

Now I just muck around with collages. Here’s my snowglobe:

I put a brave little girl in it. I should have put more flowers or bugs or something floating around.

“I’m not sure I like this,” I said to my daughter. “I don’t know what it means.”

“It means we’re all looking a life through our own little snowglobe,” she said.

“I suppose,” I replied. “But we think we’re being brave when really we aren’t. We’re untouchable. Maybe we’re even totally unaware of the connections that could be possible if we just stepped out.”

We both stared at it in silence.

“Nah,” we both said, and laughed.