THE LITTLE PEOPLE

I was parked in my favorite shady spot under the big overhanging tree at the Playa del Rey Lagoon, working on an order of miniatures I need to complete by this weekend, when three tiny faces appeared beside the caravan. Siblings, was my assumption, who I guessed were maybe 3 years old, 5, and 8. The big brother of the group seemed to be the spokesperson for the other two. Kids are so cool because they are wide-open curious and completely unfiltered in their thoughts. They will ask you things that adults won't. "What is this thing?" big brother wanted to know.

"It's my home and my art studio," I replied.
"Do you sleep in here?" he asked.
Then, before I could respond, Little Sister, (the three year old) held up her bright pink backpack and said, "Did you see my Hello Kitty backpack?"
"Cool!" I said.
"Do you know Hello Kitty?" she asked.
"Well, I've heard of her." I said.
Then Big Brother asked, "Are you homeless?"
I kind of laughed and said, "No, this is my home right here."
"Do you like it?" Little brother chimed in.
"I love my home," I said. I can travel around anywhere I want in it.
"Do you have a car?" Big brother asked.
"No, " I replied, "I have a bicycle."
Little sister, who had been rummaging around in her Hello Kitty backpack pulled out a doll and said, "See my doll?"
"Cool". I said.
"Do you know Michael Jackson?" She asked.
"Well, not personally but I know who he is..."
"Do you have food?" Big brother asked, still thinking I might be some sort of homeless person.
"Yes, I have food right there," I responded, pointing to my pantry. Finally Big brother seemed to suddenly understand the whole idea and smiling, said, "So you can just go along any where you want to and live there?"
"Uh huh," I said. "My home is always with me." Big brother seemed to like the idea now. Little sister was still digging through her backpack looking for more things to show me. They asked me if I would give them one of my paintings and I said I was sorry, but I couldn't give them away, for that was how I made my living. I sell them to people
"Do people ever buy them?" little sister asked, having found nothing more to show me in her backpack.
"Yes they do." I said. They stayed around a while longer, watching me paint and asking questions. I think they just weren't sure what sort of person they had stumbled upon and were trying to sort it out, but they were very interested in this artist guy who didn't live in a house. In that way they were much like the adult people I talk to everyday. The idea of someone living and working in this little red wagon is something that always seems to surprise people. It seems so normal to me.

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