October Baking

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Dalili’s house smelt of autumn. Spices filled the air and wafting from the kitchen came bread and pumpkin. It was her time to shine and her family to marvel at her creativity.

As Dalili egg washed the pastry shaped pumpkins which inside looked like mini pizzas she smiled. There was nothing better then this kind of cooking. Hoping they tasted good when they came out of the oven, she put them into the heat.

What was next? Oh, the skeleton gingerbread men she had promised her youngest child. Checking the recipe, she got what was required and set about the task.

Googly Eyes

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Sitting at the dinning room table, I watched my ten year old, identical triplet girls crafting a Halloween banner. It might only have been the first weekend of October but all ready my mind was on Halloween and I was encouraging my children to join in the fun.

The only problem was my three year old son, there was only so much crafting he was capable of. For awhile he had been happy to paint pictures, stick stickers and glitter on everything but now he was bored.

‘Mum! Coby is being annoying!’ Lottie cried.

‘He’s stealing all my pens!’ Hattie moaned.

‘Go away! It’s girls only!’ Kattie shouted and give Coby a hard shove.

He hit the floor hard and started crying.

‘Girls! Please!’ I snapped, ‘be nice to you baby brother.’

Picking the toddler up, I placed him on my hip, though he was getting far too heavy to carry around.

The girls all stuck out their tongues then got back to their banner making.

I signed, too tried to argue with them and sit at the head on the table with Coby on my lap. He snuggled against me, sniffing softly.

There was a bowl of squashes in the middle of the table which I had brought to do some autumn decorating with but hadn’t decided yet what to do with exactly. There where different varieties and colours; some looked like mini pumpkins, others mini watermelons, some were white and others were more tall then round.

A strange idea came to me, something I’d probably seen off a kid’s cartoon.

‘I’ve an idea Coby. Would you like to help, Mummy?’

He nodded into my chest.

I gathered what we needed then choosing one of the squash, I stuck googly eyes on it.

‘Look Coby!’

He laughed and I moved the squash about and made a ‘do do’ sound like the squash was walking along.

‘Do-do-a-do. Ah it’s such a nice day! But where are my friends?’ I spoke in lower pitched, funny voice.

Coby laughed and clapped his hands.

‘Do you know where my friends are?’ I made the squash say.

‘There!’ Coby said and pointed at the bowl.

‘So they are! Can you help me bring them to life?’

With a nod, Coby grabbed one of the squashes and we spent some time decorating a few of them. After, we played with them, giving them voices and making stories up.

When the girls finished the banner, we tided up and watched TV for a bit.

When their dad arrived home from his ruby matched, the girls rushed to show off their banner.

‘Impressive!’ he answered then listened as the girls told him all about which bits they had done.

‘Come see what Coby and I made,’ I finally got in.

The girls rushed back to the TV, happy they could watch something less toddler aimed.

Coby, I and my husband went into the dinning room and Coby delighted in showing off his brought to life squashes.

 

Rastrophiliopustrocity #AtoZChallenge

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Rastrophiliopustrocity; a spontaneous combustion of creative spark that is followed by action in order to manifest and bring into existence. 

I took the drug again, I just had to! Within minutes the creativity was upon me and I was scrambling for canvas, paints and brushes.

It was like someone else had taken over my head and hands, I didn’t know what I was doing, wasn’t aware of what I was creating, which meant have been because the drug partly caused temporary blindness.

Paint splashed all round, two, three brushes in my hands at once as the need grew, I had to get everything out of me and put it onto the canvas as fast as lightening.

The drug lasted only a short time so I could only do one painting. I had in the past tried for two or three canvas, that I had set up ready but the paintings hadn’t turned out as good, they had been blurry and frantic. Not my normal artist flare, so I hadn’t sold them.

The minutes seemed to race by as I worked, still unaware of what was being brought to life before me. My body started to trier, my hands aching and a headache building. The drug was wearing off.

Exhausted, I stepped back and looked at the painting, it was one of my finest yet.

Carved #100WW

The dead tree in the park was to be removed but first an artist had been allowed access. He had thought awhile about what to do – paint the tree? Chainsaw sculpt an image? Use the branches to display other works of art?

He liked that idea! But he was going to need help. He ran art classes in schools so decided to get the young people to make pieces to decorate the tree. Then they all went out and did just that.

Lastly, everyone carved their names into the trunk signing the art piece off.

 

(Inspired by; https://bikurgurl.com/2019/02/20/100-word-wednesday-week-109/ with thanks).

 

Ink #1linerweds

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It was hard to tell what shapes the ink blots were, it depend on how creative he was feeling.

(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2018/05/09/one-liner-wednesday-ink with thanks).

The Mind Of A Writer

Dust, Doorway, Door, Window, Sunlight, Architecture

The second she opened the door in her mind all the stories rushed out. The characters began talking to her so loud that their mingling voices blocked everything else out. Scene settings popped into her vision, taking her from moonlight countryside to a cottage’s roaring fire place.

She shut her eyes and tried to get control over it all. She pushed away the characters she didn’t want to work on and listened harder to the ones she did. It took awhile, but when she opened her eyes again and saw the computer screen and keyboard before her. Hovering her fingers over random letters, she began typing.

Stars In A Jar

‘Mummy? How can I get a star in this jar?’

I glanced down at my eight year old daughter. She had come to my side, holding a large jam jar in both hands and frowning into it. I stopped chopping vegetables for the pasta sauce and turned to her.

‘A star?’ I questioned.

She nodded once and clutching the jar tighter to her chest, looked up at me.

‘It’s for Nana’s birthday,’ she explained.

‘Oh…Well, you know catching a star is very hard. You can only see them at night and you need a really long fishing rod, a net and maybe some rope,’ I told her.

She stared up at me with big blue eyes framed with loose yellow curls that had escaped her ponytail. She pouted, becoming confused, but I could also she that she was trying to work out if I was lying or not.

‘Perhaps. Instead of a real star we could just make some?’ I suggested.

‘How?’

‘I’ll show you after dinner. Here, let me put that somewhere safe for you….’

I reached to take the jar from her, but she shook her head and started walking off.

‘Be careful!’ I called after her.

She mumbled something and walked out of the kitchen.

I listened for a few moments as her voice drifted back from the living room where her dad and baby brother were watching cartoons. She seemed to be telling him what I had just said. Shaking my head, I got back to making dinner, but my thoughts were really on how to create a star that would satisfy her.

Afterwards, I gathered some craft supplies and found an old box of Christmas white fairy lights. Bringing everything into the living room, I presented my ideas to her and though she seemed a little uncertain, within two hours we had created some stars in a jar.

‘Do you think Nana will like it?’ I asked as I tucked my daughter into bed at last.

She looked at the jar which was now on her bedside. The fairy lights glowed softly inside it, casting light on to the danging paper stars attached to the lid. It did like very effective.

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘and you were right mummy. That was a lot easier then catching a real star. Though I do wish we could have given it ago.’

‘Maybe, we could try tomorrow? Good night,’ I whispered.

All In The Mind

Dracula, Halloween, Vampire, Horror, Creepy, Scary

‘I worry,’ muttered the vampire sweet jar at the side of Aurora desk, ‘about her current state of mind.’

He flicked his red rimmed eyes to the left and right, spotting both the grey plushie cat and black sparkly beanie bat. Both were hidden under and in-between packets of sweets and chocolate.

‘Why?’ the bat squeaked, though he seemed to have no mouth to do so with.

‘Because,’ the vampire began then trailed off with a sigh.

The plushie cat was mumbling something underneath him and he had to slide over, so she could free herself. Moving back again, the sweets stored inside of his black plastic body rattled loudly. He watched the cat scrambling up a packet of gold dusted chocolate Easter eggs. She went to rest on a colouring book that was sticking out from the stack and started trying to nuzzle into her felt fur.

The vampire cleared his throat and began again, ‘because she has clearly lost it.’

‘Lost what?’ the bat questioned.

He flapped his too large wings uselessly about which resulted in him tumbling off a small cardboard box and hitting a large jar of felt tip pens.

The vampire rolled his eyes and watched the bat struggling to right himself before plopping next to the keyboard and Aurora’s fast moving fingers.

‘Her mind,’ the vampire repeated.

The bat looked at him, then the cat and finally Aurora.

‘I don’t understand,’ the bat called up to them, ‘she’s doing what she normally does at this time of day and look! There’s a new creation just waiting to be sewn next to her.’

The cat peered down, trying to look snotty, but her wobbly black line mouth made it look more like she was trying to hide a smile. The vampire joined her by looming over and was surprised to see a square of blue felt with a strange paper shape on top of it just above the keyboard.

‘What is that?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know…I think it has a curly tail and nose though,’ the bat answered back.

‘Can you all please be quiet?’ Aurora broke in.

Her bright green eyes landed on the group and her pale lips formed a strained frown line.

The vampire shrunk into the gold dappled flock curtain behind him, knocking over a box of fudge as he did so. The cat hissed and swung up to join him, landing on the chocolate eggs again. Whilst the bat turned his eyes upwards to the mountain of snacks and wondered how he was going to get back up there again.

Aurora groaned softly and picked up the bat. She placed him back on the stack next to a packet of mixed mints and the printer’s tray. She folded his wings in, but they flapped out again.

‘I’m not losing my mind,’ Aurora added, ‘it’s just the depression again.’

‘Is that why you’ve had the urges to sew?’ the bat asked, wishing she’d pick him up again. He had long forgotten what it felt like to be in her warm hands, having his fluffy fur rubbed.

‘A little. But I need to write this story first and submit it. Though I don’t know why I’m bothering,’ Aurora added with a shake of her head.

She turned back and began typing once more, her eyes darting from screen to keyboard. The words before her started to blur and tears filled her eyes before she could stop them.

‘Here,’ the vampire called, ‘have a lollypop.’

Aurora turned to him and picked up the plastic jar. She tipped him over, twisted off the lid at his base and pulled out a Halloween themed lollypop. Securing the lid, she placed him back, disturbing a packet of oat biscuits. Moving them to the side, she sat for a few moments whilst she opened the lolly and took a few licks.

‘So what is it?’ the bat squealed.

‘A seahorse,’ Aurora replied, ‘I’m going to make it into a key ring for my new bag.’

‘But you all ready made a purple octopus,’ the bat pointed out.

‘I know, but I wanted a seahorse too and then there’s this…’

Aurora went to the other side of her desk and grabbed a plastic wallet. She shuffled through the papers then showed them a pattern for a felt mermaid doll.

‘She looks nice and summer like.’

‘I don’t like her…’ the vampire muttered, ‘can’t you make her more gothic?’

‘Maybe,’ Aurora said and put the papers down.

She popped the lolly into her mouth once more and looked at the computer screen for a few moments. The words typed up there didn’t seem to make sense any more.

‘Do you think it’s true?’ Aurora whispered as she looked over at the cat, ‘have a lost my mind?’

The vampire shot her a sad, fang flashing smile, ‘Yes. You’ve started giving us voices in your head again. We really are not really you know…Maybe you need to get some help? Perhaps before you start believing you headphones are trying to kill you again?’

Aurora sighed and got up from her computer desk. The room was silent but for a ticking clock. She picked up the bat, rubbing his fluffy fur against her cheek. Deep down she knew the vampire was right, just like he always was.

For Art

Scrapyard, Recycling, Dump, Garbage, Metal, Scrap Yard

Matt liked going to the scrap yard because he never knew what he was going to find. Parking his car in the carefully reserved spaces just outside the tall electrical wired topped gates, he got out and went in. A small box booth painted bright red to stand out against everything else sat just inside the fence, with a huge man balled up inside. Matt waved to him and clocked the scrap yard owner’s wave back before wandering in.

Towers of scrap and waste rose up around Matt like small mountains. Someone was trying hard to keep control of the towers being structured out of the same items, but it was an almost impossible task. The metal piles held abandoned cars, some looking crushed others just looking dumped where sticking out alongside white kitchen appliances which also mingled with other metal objects.

The smell was bad and Matt slipped on his cloth mask and gloves as he walked. The air was heavy with old oil, rusting metal, household waste and other rotting things. Following large paths that had been marked out of the cranes and other monster machines to follow, he approached a few of the piles and looked at the stuff on offer.

His mind rushed over all the things he could create and soon he had gathered a list of items. Finding a worker, which took a very long time, he got the young man to gather what he had picked it out and cart it back to the booth for the total and payment. He then got help arranging deliver and sent of home again.

Matt knew he always took too much home. Thinking about as he drove, he felt he couldn’t help it. Somehow, people’s unwanted items took on new forms under his hands and found so much joy in it. What had once been his hobby was now his way of life. A way of life selling recycled art.

Postcard

St Petersburg Russia, Nonoj Petersburg

Hey, look I finally made it! Can’t believe I’m actually here in Russia. I so had to send you a postcard as it’s taking me ages to find an internet cafe. Though chances are I’ll have found one and spoke to you way before you get this. Still, it’s the thoughts right? I still can’t believe you’re wasting your summer working. No way does that make you more creative! Getting out and seeing the world does! Think about and let me know if you’re going to met us in Rome. See you soon, Chad.