This painting has been selected for a "Finalist "award and has been published in International  Artist Magazine
Issue #64, Decembar / January, 2009. Click here for information
click here to enlarge
Hey... There's A Tiger On My Lap!
Original art is sold
size: 30" X 40"
Medium: oil on linen
Contact us for information on print availability and cost
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My paintings of play are intended to be about exploration and discovery. Through play, we give our children the
autonomy to go out and take risks and learn about the world. The amount of supervision applied is directly related
to the potential risk and the maturity of the child. As they grow, we assess how much freedom and risk is
appropriate, and we pray we don’t make a mistake. We want them to develop common sense, but we’re usually
hovering, just off-camera, waiting to jump in if things go sideways.
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This is my daughter Sarah, at age eight. Its a hot July day at the Windsor Park playground, in Victoria. She knows
I’m there, camera in hand, so she hams it up a bit. She wants me to see how much she can handle. Seconds after
I take this photograph, she loses her balance and goes over backwards, landing hard on her head. Following the
tears, we walk away unscathed – a slightly bruised head and ego, but no permanent damage. Another life lesson
learned: the edge of gravity has its price.
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Many of my paintings of play contain elements of danger. Children are always pushing the boundaries to learn,
and there is risk. My paintings always imply the presence of the adult, whether it’s me there, behind the camera,
or another adult in the frame. As parents, we’ve all heard stories of the briefest moment left unsupervised that
turns unthinkable. Those thoughts hover at the edge of our minds, so we hover at the edge of their play. It’s part
of the job for which we volunteered. And when we’re not there, we hope that the lessons we tried to impart with
our guidance will protect them. It’s a wonder that parents sleep at all. 
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Mark Heine 
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PS: Sarah asked if she could name this painting. When I said sure, she admitted that she didn’t really know how.
My response was, “What was your first thought?”