My niece and I do collaborative drawings sometimes. She asks me to make a single object and then finishes the drawing herself by illustrating a setting around it. The other day at her house, we began much the same way. She had me draw a car—conveniently the thing I have most difficulty making—and then she completed the drawing. Then she casually proceeded to stun me further.
She asked me what she should draw and jotted down forms as I named objects at random—a strawberry, pancakes, crayons, a watch that my cousin first assumed to be a ring, and then an actual ring, correcting us of our folly. Her drawings were so impressive—they were so basic and quickly done but retained the determining characteristic that makes a comb a comb, or a strawberry a strawberry.
And then she drew Spongebob characters. To this day I don’t know if she was doing this from memory—I’m pretty certain she was—but either way, I thought it was spectacular. To be able to recall the elongation of Mr Krab’s eyes or Squidward’s distinguishable nose were traits I couldn’t even draw from memory.
Nothing stands in her way. When you throw a drawing challenge at her, she doesn’t get hung up over how it’ll look, or if it’s anatomically correct. She does the job and presents it with the confidence of completion. I’ve always felt blessed that my heroes exist across a wide range of ages and personalities—she’s my little Wonder Woman.
I unfortunately don’t have all of what she illustrated, but I did ask her to save the Spongebob characters for me (pictured below with images of the actual characters).