The "art classes" have started up again. The little girls come over together after school and rush upstairs to my studio where their tools are laid out for them. Today they will crush aluminum foil, wrap it with tape, and paint it. They warm to the task slowly, experimenting with how much foil will be necessary, how tightly to crunch it, what shapes emerge. What do they see in the shapes? Sarah makes sea life (worm, anemone, rock, sponge, seaweed), working quickly, with energy. Carolina takes her time and decides on an alien with one eye at the end of a stalk, then a planet with a patchwork of colored continents. It reminds me of an art therapy exercise: "Create the planet that is you."

"When are we going to spatter-paint?" asks Sarah. This is her first time attending a series of 10 art experiences, but she has heard about the final session from her friends. "On the last day," I say. Spatter-painting is always their passion, something to look forward to. It is permission to be messy, to fling color into their world, to play.

Art should be fun, I tell them. If it isn't fun, we'll do something else.