An Artist is Born

I was in the room when my nephew was born, saw his eyes open for the first time and even witnessed his first step exactly one year later. For someone who lives over 2000 miles away, I've been remarkably involved in this little life. My sister is not terribly artistic (when prompted she could not name the primary and secondary colors) so I have set up residence as the official artistic influence in my nephew's world.

I used to make him tiny, baby-sized books that he could put stickers in and color on; I have painted pictures for his room and, just last Christmas, I bought him his own easle and paints and taught him the fundamentals of color theory (blue + yellow = green). But it looks like I've been imposing the wrong medium on him.

This is his photograph taken with a Canon Digital Rebel SLR. He is 4 and a half years old. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying its a masterpiece, I'm just saying that its impressive—the light, the composition, even my brother-in-law's chopped-off head. I'm thinking this Christmas I'll buy him a camera. Maybe an Holga...