What do you hear?

Listening to the brush strokes, the colors mixing in this room that was the place where so much was created. A few hours packing of body casts (for eye training I am told) unscrewing of paint dropped easels and still life props, this room is slowly readying itself for a new kind of art. The kind that jingles, taps, colors, skips, hops, rolls, massages, loves, shares, sings, and more and more and more. I can almost hear the sweet songs, squeals of delight and toddling footsteps.