Artist Stories for Kids

Emi sat at her little table with a big sheet of paper and a green crayon. She moved her hand in fast circles and loops, making a big, wild scribble. When she finished, she looked at it and frowned. "It is just a scribble," she said. "It is not anything." Her father came and looked at the paper. He tilted his head one way, then the other. "Hmm," he said. "I think I see something. Look, those loops could be wings. And that long curly line, that could be a tail." Emi looked again. She added two dots for eyes and a little triangle for a mouth. Then she drew a puff of smoke. "It is a dragon!" she said. "A green dragon with big wings!" "See?" her father said. "It was not nothing. It was a dragon, just waiting for you to find it." Emi drew fire coming from the dragon's mouth, and a castle, and a brave knight who was really just a girl with a sword made of a stick. At the bottom, she wrote the dragon's name in wobbly letters: Puff the Green. Her father clapped and said, "A name makes it a real dragon." When she was done, the whole page was full of story. A scribble had become a dragon, and the dragon had become an adventure. Emi taped the picture to her wall. Every time she saw it, she remembered that a scribble is only a scribble until you look at it with a little bit of wonder.

In art class, Mrs. Chen asked everyone to paint the sky. Mia painted it blue. Jonah painted it blue. But Lila dipped her brush in purple and painted a big, bold purple sky. "The sky is not purple!" Jonah said, giggling. "You did it wrong," Mia said. Lila's cheeks turned pink. She looked at her purple sky and felt her heart sink. Maybe she had done it wrong. Mrs. Chen walked over and looked at Lila's painting for a long time. "Tell me about your sky, Lila," she said. "I saw a sunset once," Lila said quietly. "The sky was purple and pink and orange. I wanted to paint that." Mrs. Chen smiled. "Sunsets are purple and pink and orange. You painted a moment most people forget to look at. This is beautiful." Lila looked at her painting again. The purple sky did not look wrong anymore. It looked like the sky right before the stars came out. "Can I add stars?" Lila asked. "Of course," Mrs. Chen said. Lila dotted little silver stars all over her purple sky. When she finished, it was the most beautiful painting in the room. Mia leaned over to look. "The stars are pretty," she said softly. "Maybe purple is a good sky color after all." Jonah nodded. Lila looked at her painting and smiled, then wrote her name in the corner with a steady hand. That day, Lila learned something important. Your art does not have to look like everyone else's. It just has to look like yours.

Mateo wanted to draw a cat for his grandmother. He tried very hard. He drew a round body, a tail, and four legs. But when he stepped back, the picture looked all wrong. The legs were too long, and the head was too big. "It looks silly," Mateo said, and he was about to throw it in the bin. "Wait!" said his friend Lina, who was drawing beside him. "Let me see." Lina looked at the picture. Her eyes went wide. "Mateo, this is amazing. It looks like a cat from another planet, with long legs that can jump over mountains." "A space cat?" Mateo said. "Yes!" Lina said. "A space cat who hops from star to star." Mateo looked at his picture again. Suddenly the long legs did not look wrong. They looked like they were leaping. The big head looked like it was full of big ideas. He added a little helmet, and some stars, and a moon. He gave the cat a red cape and a name: Captain Whiskers, the bravest space cat in the sky. The cat did not look silly anymore. It looked like a hero. "Thank you, Lina," Mateo said. "I almost threw away a space cat." "That is the thing about art," Lina said. "What looks like a mistake to you might look like magic to someone else." Mateo gave the picture to his grandmother, who hung it on her wall. "It is my favorite cat," she said. "A cat that can jump over mountains."

Pedro had a brand new sketchbook with clean white pages, and a brand new box of pencils in every color. But every time he opened the book, the empty page stared back at him, and he could not make a mark. "What if I draw something bad?" Pedro said. "Then I will have wasted the page." His teacher, Mr. Okafor, saw him staring at the blank page. "You are trying to draw the whole picture before you draw anything," he said. "Just make one small mark." "Just one?" Pedro said. "Just one," Mr. Okafor said. "A dot. Any color." Pedro picked up a blue pencil and made a tiny blue dot in the middle of the page. "Now what?" Pedro asked. "What does the dot want to be?" Mr. Okafor said. Pedro looked at the dot. It looked like a raindrop. So he drew more raindrops. Then a cloud. Then an umbrella, and a little boy holding it, and puddles to splash in. Before he knew it, the whole page was full. Raindrops, clouds, puddles, and a boy who was having the best time. Pedro drew the boy in big red boots with a happy grin, and he laughed as he colored them in. The boy in the picture held a green umbrella, and Pedro drew him jumping into the biggest puddle on the page. "I made a whole picture," Pedro said, surprised. "Every picture starts with one mark," Mr. Okafor said. "The brave part is making it." Pedro smiled. The empty page was not scary anymore. It was a place to begin.

Ms. Rivera's class decided to paint a big mural on the long wall of the school hallway. It would show the whole neighborhood, she said, and everyone would paint a part. "I will paint the bakery," said Sam. "I will paint the park," said Ada. "I will paint the fire station," said Kenji. But the wall was huge, and the children soon saw that one bakery and one park were not enough. "The wall still looks empty," Ada said. "We need more," said Ms. Rivera. "Everyone adds a piece, and the picture grows bigger and brighter." So they all painted together. Some painted the sky, some painted the road, and some painted the tiny shops. One child painted a dog, and another painted a bicycle. Someone painted clouds, and someone painted the yellow bus. Day by day, the wall filled with color. The bakery sat next to the park, and the fire station stood tall, and the little dog chased the bicycle all the way across the hall. When the mural was finished, the children stood back to look. It was the most wonderful picture any of them had ever seen, and every single child had made part of it. "I painted that cloud," one child said. "And I painted that dog," another said. Ms. Rivera smiled. "When everyone adds a piece, the picture is bigger and brighter than any one of us could make alone." The principal came to see it, and the children told her which part each of them had painted, pointing proudly at their own small corner of the wall.

Mina was painting a big, happy garden. She painted red flowers and yellow flowers and a brown fence all the way across. "Now I need green for the leaves," she said. She dipped her brush in the green paint cup. The brush came up with almost nothing on it. "The green is all gone," said Mina. "I cannot finish my garden." Her friend Leo came over to look. "Just use a different color," he said. "But leaves have to be green," said Mina. "A garden needs green leaves or it is not done." Mina sat and thought hard. Then she remembered something her teacher said one day. "Blue and yellow make green," she said. "Really?" said Leo. "Watch," said Mina. She put a blob of blue paint on a clean plate. Then she put a blob of yellow paint right next to it. She stirred the two blobs with her brush. The colors swirled together. "Look!" said Leo. "It is turning green!" Mina stirred a little more. The paint became a bright, fresh green. "It works!" said Mina. She painted the leaves on every flower and the bushes by the fence. "Now my garden is done," she said. "You made your own green," said Leo. "You did not even need the store." Leo picked up the plate and looked at the leftover green. "Can I mix a color too?" he asked. "I want to make purple for the night sky." Mina smiled. "When a color runs out, you can mix a new one," she said. "Now I know how, and I will never be stuck again."

Theo was walking home after the rain when he saw a snail on the wet sidewalk. The snail had no shell. It sat all alone out in the open. "Poor little snail," said Theo. "You have no home to hide in." He got down on his knees to look. The snail moved very slowly. His mom said, "That snail needs to find a shell, or the hot sun will dry it up." "Everyone needs a place that is just for them," said Theo. He ran inside and got his paper and crayons. "I will draw you a home," he said. First he drew a round shell with a little spiral on it. Then he colored it brown and gold. "That can be your new shell," said Theo. Next he drew a leafy garden with soft green bushes and a big gray rock. "You can hide under the rock when it rains," he said. He drew a tiny path so the snail could crawl from the rock to the bushes. Then he drew a warm sun in the sky to keep the garden bright. Theo held the picture up. "What do you think?" he asked the snail. The snail wiggled its little eyes, as if to say thank you. Theo taped the picture on the wall by his bed. That night, Theo peeked at the picture before bed. The little snail with the spiral shell looked happy and safe. "Sweet dreams, snail," he whispered. "Now I will remember you," he said. "And you have a safe, warm home in my picture."

Ivy rolled a ball of clay in her hands. She was making a star to hang in the window. "I will make the best star in class," she said. She pressed and shaped the clay into a star with five points. It looked perfect. "I just need to let it dry," said Ivy. She set the star on the table. But she pushed it a little too hard near the edge. Crack! One point broke off. Then another. Soon the whole star fell into small pieces. "Oh no," said Ivy. "My star is ruined." She picked up the pieces and was about to throw them away. "Wait," said her teacher. "Do not throw them away yet. What else could these pieces make?" Ivy looked at the pieces. One piece was round, like a moon. The others were small and sharp, like tiny stars. "I could make a moon and little stars," said Ivy. She pressed the round piece into a soft moon. She shaped each small piece into a tiny star. Then she made a string of them and hung it by the window. The moon and the little stars spun and caught the light. "Your sky looks wonderful," said her teacher. That night, the moon and the little stars caught the light from the street lamp. They glowed soft and white. "It is a little sky, just for my window," Ivy said. "And I made it all from broken pieces." Ivy smiled. "My star broke," she said. "But the pieces made something even better."

Grandma had moved to a far-away city, and Ava missed her a lot. "Grandma must feel lonely in her new home," said Ava. "How can we help her from here?" asked her little brother, Milo. "We can send her a card," said Ava. "A card can travel a long, long way." Ava got out her crayons and a big piece of paper. She drew a bright sun in the corner. Then she drew a garden full of flowers, just like the one at Grandma's old house. "Grandma loved her roses," said Ava. So she drew three big red roses. Under the flowers she wrote, "We miss you, Grandma. This garden is for you." Milo drew a little blue bird. "That is me, singing for Grandma," he said. Ava folded the card and put it in an envelope. She wrote Grandma's far-away address and stuck a stamp on it. They walked to the mailbox and sent the card off. A few days later, the phone rang. It was Grandma. "I got your card," said Grandma. "It made me smile so big. I hung it on my wall so I can see your garden every day." The next day, Ava drew a new picture of her and Grandma holding hands under the roses. "When we visit," she said, "I will bring this one to her in person." Milo nodded. "And I will sing the bird song for real." Ava hugged the phone. "See, Milo," she said. "Love can travel in a card."

At the edge of the park stood a big blank wall. It was plain and gray, and it looked sad. "Why is that wall so empty?" asked Nico. "Nobody knows what to put on it," said his mom. "I do," said Nico. "A wall that big needs a lot of friends to paint it." He made little notes and slid them under every door on the street. "Come paint the park wall on Saturday," the notes said. On Saturday, people came with brushes and pots of paint. "Each person paints one thing they love," said Nico. Mrs. Lee painted a tall green tree. Mr. Ortiz painted a red bird. The twins painted a blue pond. Nico painted a big yellow sun in the top corner. A girl named Ruby painted a rainbow. A boy painted a dog chasing a ball. More and more people came to add a flower, a fish, or a smiling face. By the end of the day, the wall was not blank anymore. It was full of color and life. "It looks like a garden now," said Mrs. Lee. The next morning, Nico walked by the wall again. It was not sad and gray anymore. Now people stopped to look and smile on their way to the park. "It is the prettiest wall on the street," said his mom. Nico nodded. "We should paint the other side next," he said. "We all made it together," said Nico. "Now the wall has lots of friends, and so do we."

Ollie sat in front of a big white paper. He had to draw something, but he could not think of anything. "I do not know what to draw," he said. "My head is empty." His teacher smiled. "Then do not think," she said. "Let your paintbrush go on a walk." "What does that mean?" asked Ollie. "Dip your brush in paint and let it wander," she said. "Do not plan. Just let your hand move." Ollie dipped his brush in blue paint. He touched it to the paper and let it wander. The brush made a long, wavy line. "That looks like a river," said Ollie. He dipped his brush in brown and drew a little boat on the river. Then he added green trees along the side, and a red sun up high. His brush kept walking. It made a little house, then a path, then two birds in the sky. It wandered here and there, and each line turned into something new. Soon the whole paper was full. It was not empty anymore. "Look what your brush made," said his teacher. The next day, Ollie sat down with a new white paper. This time he was not worried at all. He dipped his brush and let it wander. "Where are you going today?" he asked his paintbrush with a smile. The brush made a tall mountain this time, and a little cabin at the very top. Ollie smiled. "I was not thinking at all," he said. "My brush was doing the work, and it made a whole world."

Nora had a cup of red paint. Aya had a cup of yellow paint. "I want to paint a butterfly," said Nora. "But my butterfly needs orange wings." "I want to paint an orange butterfly too," said Aya. "But I only have yellow." They both frowned at their paint cups. "Orange is not here," said Nora. "Maybe we can make it," said Aya. "My teacher said red and yellow make orange." "But you have yellow and I have red," said Nora. "We would have to share." "I can share if you can," said Aya. So Nora put a blob of red on a plate. Aya put a blob of yellow right next to it. They stirred the two blobs together. The paint swirled and turned bright orange. "It worked!" they said at the same time. They each dipped a brush and painted an orange butterfly. Nora painted one with big wings. Aya painted one with small round spots. The two butterflies sat side by side on the paper. "Two colors made a whole new color," said Nora. The next day, Nora and Aya brought more paint. They made green and purple and a soft pink. Soon their paper was full of butterflies in every color. "Look what we can make when we share," said Nora. "The best colors are the ones we make together," said Aya. They hung the paper on the wall so everyone could see the bright butterflies. The whole class came over to look. "And two friends made two butterflies," said Aya.