- this is a weird silly bug. It’s weird!
- I love the legs. So many!
- Yes; I drewed them like that.
- He’s a present for the baby. He is a tummy bug (EDITOR’S NOTE: gastrovirus) and he loves sick (Ed: vomit) HAHAHAHAHA.
- HE LOVES TO EAT THE SICK! HAHAHA
- Oh wow. Did … did you know we use the word “bug” for two things - we can use it to mean a little animals, like a woodlouse, that lives outside? But also, when we say tummy bug, we mean a germ - the little tiny things we can’t see - they’re different. Which one is he?
- Oh this is a ninvisible bug.
(Image: a furry bug with lots of legs, wide staring eyes, and a slightly deranged grin from eye to eye.)
- He’s the BUG that makes you sick. That’s why he has so many legs. (Ed: here I thought this was possibly influenced by the educational book they have called “see inside germs,” depicting various microorganisms with flagella and mycelium and so on.) when it’s time to be sick, he uses his legs to tickle the back of your throat to make you be sick. And then he! eats! the! sick! HAHAHA
- (Ed: at this point I helplessly let go of my attempt to teach germ theory in the face of such superior theology) oh … wow.
- He lives inside you all the time but doesn’t tickle you all the time because it isn’t always time to be sick. He’s ninvisible. He’s not an outside bug. He’s the tummy bug. that’s why him make you be sick to come up to your throat and eat the sick. See, the baby loves that bug.
- does the baby… like germs?
- what made you choose to draw a tummy bug, to give to the baby?
- The crying was annoying to me.
- Um…. I mean, why did you draw the bug?
- I choose a bug because they’re my favourite to draw to give to the baby to help them calm down. because the crying is annoying to me.
- What makes you choose to draw a bug?
- The baby always calms down and stops crying when I’m give them my bugs.
- I’m also best at drawing bugs.
- I see that you have cut the paper?
- Yes! I’m snipped him out carefully with the white (Ed: child-safe baby’s nail cutting) scissors.
- Yes, I’m really pleased that I m draw him all by myself. He’s all wiggly biggly. I drewed him to be wiggly and biggly.
Some things that interested me: the way that the knowledge you put into them is synthesized and recreated: the very Greek-philosophy-of-medicine idea of the Tummy Bug as large soft benign prawn that triggers vomiting by tickling you. We are all fascinated by AI right now, the way it spits our own things back at us; here is a juvenile human intelligence, which does the same thing, but less predictably. The way the artist is already self-proclaiming their awareness of the audience: using the baby’s nail scissors, which are Allowed Blades, and stating in advance that they did so carefully, therefore dodging the expected reflexive criticism of “please don’t use scissors without me!” Or the tiresome parental “WHERE DID YOU GET SCISSORS?” The gentle reproach that the baby, fussing mildly for five minutes while I prepared breakfast, was so ANNOYING that the poor toddler had to create an art piece to meet this unmet need.
But also: a piece of work with thoughtfulness and attention given to medium, execution, and topic. Did it do its job? Yes. Did it communicate? Yes. Did it provoke reactions? Multiple ones. Was there intentionality? Yes. Was an emotion captured? Surely. Was the mark-making technically skilled and the result admirable? Of course. What about mastery? Mastery of some topics is clearly shown here. There was a clear trajectory from the artist’s brain to the audience’s, with evidence showing that the bridge was good.
And do you know that it is good? Yes, it is good. How do you know? I’m just do.
Often you have to re-enter education to get this much to grips with art, so it’s just cool to me. What we are seeking is so often found.
