Paint Everywhere Except the Paper

My two-year-old set up his art studio on a lounge chair in the backyard. Not a table. A lounge chair. Six little pots of paint, one red brush, and a picture that is now mostly purple and blue and absolutely none of it inside the lines. There is paint on the chair. There is paint on the grass. There is paint on his hands. The paper got some too, eventually. He was so focused, completely unbothered by the fact that his studio was falling apart around him. I love that about two. Nobody has told him yet that art is supposed to look like something. He just makes it. And honestly? The chair looks better with paint on it.