All he wants to do is draw. He is, thank goodness, unstoppable.*
[I]t is another language altogether; impossible for adults to speak and arduous for us to understand. We might call that language ‘Childish’: we have all been fluent in Childish once, and it is a language with a billion or more native speakers today – though all of those speakers will in time forget they ever knew it.**
He is also 90;
He is Quentin Blake.
Robert Macfarlane may be right to assert
we all lose our fluency, and then, remembrance
of that language Childish,
But I wonder whether there are some
amongst us, like Blake,
who retain more than a few “words and phrases” – of
curiosity and awe, of
wonder and imagination, of
questions and playfulness –
That they form and shape into that language
we might name Childlike,
To use garrulously throughout their years.
*Jenny Uglow’s The Quentin Blake Book;
**Robert Macfarlane’s Landmarks.