A world is lost

My oldest son Montana never particularly enjoyed art or coloring from the get go. In pre-school, he preferred to build or dance over painting and drawing. By the time he was old enough to experience his first serious run-ins with a teacher - it was his “official” art teacher. One does not normally think of an art teacher as being potentially abusive or the most toxic of teachers, but this man was absolutely deadly. Under his tutorage, my son went from being indifferent to paintings, drawing and coloring to absolutely loathing art in all forms.

In grade two, I tried to stem the toxic teacher’s tide by formally introducing Montana to other forms and styles of art. Nothing really clicked for him until we went to see the work of Norval Morrisseau. Finally, a painting spoke to his soul and he found a purpose for art – well, at least for some of it. Montana, still can’t be bother with most art, but he would never turn down a Morrisseau piece to hang on the wall of his room.

Godspeed Morrisseau