Creative Mothering: How Reality Can Exceed our Expectations

My dad was Mr. Ewing, the art teacher. He would visit all the schools in the district, bringing fun projects to our classes for once-a-week art sessions. We did everything from drawing to photography. It was great, especially for me. The children in my class would say, “Your dad is Mr. Ewing?!” “Yes,” I would answer with all the coolness that a celebrity of this magnitude was entitled to. His “office” was on the third floor of an old school office building. He had a darkroom where we would...