I seem to recall my Mom telling me that when I was a kid I really liked to color. On the walls. A lot. Truth be told, I have fuzzy recollections of my scrawlings on the wall going up the staricase, underneath the window in the dining room, maybe in a little hallway at the back of the house.
Best of all I have a rather vivid memory of going into my brother's room one morning, before he was awake. He must have been a freshman or sophomore in high school then, and he had this sort of awful red, white & blue wallpaper covered in soldiers that my grandmother had picked out for him when he was a kid. (To this day he still hates that wallpaper.) Anyway, I remember sneaking in there, crawling up on to his bed -- with him still in it, sound asleep -- and creating some of my finest work right there on the wall by his bed while he slept.
Everyone was so happy.
My mom, who really didn't get mad about much... well, she wasn't a great fan of my artistic inspiration. That I do remember well.
What's great about all of this is that Sara has discovered coloring on the walls too. Her first masterpiece? In my brother's old room. Too bad that wallpaper is long gone...