Yes, where do they all come from … ?

I read this quote online the other night during a Bun shift and I started dreaming, er, thinking. I have seen these words many years ago but it was good reading them again now. “All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once they grow up.” – Pablo Picasso

I know I need to grow up. Well, a bit. I have been needing to do this for a long long time. The war was indeed a wake up all. Actually, more like a freezing cold shower. Nothing like a shock to the system and a loss of innocence for the “growing up” vibe to kick in. And then, I sit and play for a bit with the Bunster this morning and go “Nah. Maybe some other time.”

Here is something I put in a blog post from a while ago. Some dialogue from a film where a man and a woman are talking. He is showing her a picture of his two kids from a photo in his wallet. And she says to him, “Are your kids special?” He answers her with passion, “They are very very special.” She looks at him and goes, “Everyone’s kids are special. So how come with all these special kids in the world we have so many ordinary adults.” Very good question.

The thing about the Bunster is that if is not climbing a giant strawberry he is playing with a ball. A simple round, inexpensive, non-digital object, and the Bun man is excited. He is pure innocent passion. He gets so excited when you whip out a ball. When you are all grown up this kind of excitement is rare. The Bun man inspires me. I know he is just a toddler but I want to be more like him. He laughs with his entire being. He is fascinated by everything and he is constantly amazed. The sun fascinates him. I hope he stays like this, even into his 50s.