♪
♪ Aah...aah ♪
♪
♪ Aah...aah ♪
♪ You act on attention, ♪
♪ like ladies and gents, ♪
♪ when I mention my name at the door. ♪
♪ And I hope you pardon me, ♪
♪ see by my card. ♪
♪ I am finding a world we mexplore. ♪
♪ You're in the dream I have drawn. ♪
♪ You're like the wings for my song. ♪
♪ I get a lift with your gift ♪
♪ to know right from the wrong, ♪
♪ really strong. ♪
♪ Our imagination will find this occasion ♪
♪ to go where we know we belong. ♪
♪ Aaaaah! ♪
♪
It was Harold's bedtime.
But Harold couldn't sleep.
Staring at the painting he'd made earlier in the day...
...Harold was bothered by something.
Harold suddenly knew what it was.
All of the circles in his room were perfectly round.
Perfectly perfect.
But the circles in his painting were lumpy and lopsided.
Harold tried hard to fix his circles...
...but he couldn't seem to make them right.
Harold was feeling like the very worst artist in the world...
...until he decided...
...if he copied the very best artists in the world...
...he would be a much better painter.
Harold knew that to find the very best artists' paintings...
...he'd have to go to a museum.
So Harold drew a long, straight path.
The museum didn't seem to be on the long, straight path.
It didn't seem to be anywhere.
Then Harold remembered.
The museum was in the city.
And to get to the city, he'd have to take a bus.
Harold needed some coins to ride the bus.
His coins weren't perfectly round...
...so Harold had to try again.
Since he had some time...
...Harold decided it would be a good idea to practice drawing circles.
Harold's circles weren't exactly circles...
...but they made for good company.
Art museum, next stop.
Harold hadn't realized there'd be so many steps at the museum.
Harold's balloons weren't perfect circles either...
...but they looked quite beautiful as they filled the sky.
Harold had never seen so many beautiful paintings...
...all in one place.
He couldn't wait to start copying them so he could be a very best artist too.
When Harold was done, he realized he'd drawn a great big...
...mess.
He couldn't draw a circle.
He couldn't draw anything.
Now, here was a painting made entirely of little dots.
Lots and lots of dots.
Harold was sure he could draw dots with no trouble at all.
Harold hadn't become a very best artist yet...
...but he wasn't going to give up.
He just had to find the right painting to copy.
Harold's lifesaver wasn't a perfect circle...
...but it kept him afloat.
Harold was grateful for the helping hand...
...and wanted to find a way to say thank you.
Now that the girl had some free time...
...she decided to show Harold another way to make perfect circles.
Harold had finally made a perfect circle.
Greatly encouraged, Harold wanted to see...
...if he could draw a perfect circle without any help.
Now. here was a perfect circle. Harold thought...
...right in the middle of a can of soup.
Harold could simply copy that.
Harold's circles still weren't perfect.
But Harold was beginning to wonder if it really mattered.
There were so many different ways to draw...
...so many different ways to look at things.
Even the moon.
And Harold realized he had his own way of looking at things too.
Feeling very sleepy...
...Harold wanted to go home...
...but he couldn't see a way out.
Harold drew up the covers...
...but he still wasn't quite ready for sleep.
Harold still hadn't drawn a perfect circle...
...and maybe he never would.
But his painting was his own, and nobody else's.
And that's what made it special.
Harold dropped off to sleep.
And his purple crayon dropped to the floor.