My Son The Artist.

Whom has no relation whatsoever to The Artist formerly known as Prince.

A little bit of family history if I may. Hubby is a bit of a sketch artist, well, amateur actually. He just loves to doodle and draw and sketch. He doesn't really have his own style but rather has the knack to copy almost anybody. I've seen him at work many times and I am envious of his talent*. He made it look so easy and fluid.

Mostly, he'd draw cartoon characters and vehicles. His favorite? A trailer, because he drives one. Watching him draw could be mesmerizing since every stroke of the pen is fluid, every line seems continuous and each subject done so effortlessly.

And now, I think Shahrin has benefited from his father's gift. I didn't notice them before but I do now. I started him on pen and paper early in his life. The soonest he could grasp objects, I gave him a pencil. As he grew older, his doodles and scribbles looked less and less like well, doodles and scribbles. They began to take form;

A train (upside down).

Spongebob!

Robots, according to Shahrin.

A fish.

But he gets frustrated easily. Whenever he couldn't convey the image in his mind on paper, he'd cry and scream and throw tantrums. I try to help him out whenever I could but I only know how to draw stickman. If only Hubby would spend more time with Shahrin and show him the ropes, so to speak. I know my son would benefit more if Hubby is closer to him. Sigh.

*Hubby has many talents or skills; he can do welding, he can repair engines, he can do minor electrical jobs, carpentry. He's like Jack of all trades.