I was standing on a chair in my living room holding a long thin branch with a piece of thread dangling off one end, attached to which was a pink stuffed dog.
“Ready, set, action!” the boy shouted, then hit record on his tablet and proceeded to hold up a paper for the credits. My name was on there, but I’m pretty sure I never auditioned for any part. I don’t recall agreeing to one either.
The boy then gave a fierce behind-the-scenes finger point to the girl, who moseyed on forward, looking like an actress that doesn’t care much for the director. The stuffed dog at the end of my thread trembled in anticipation for its big moment in front of the camera, but instead there was an exasperated sound from the boy director as he shouted “cut!” He chastised the girl for moving slowly, who then did a full blown hair-tossing indignant stomp off the set. So the stuffed dog took a nap and I went back to the garden.
The humidity was snuggling around me, all lovey-dovey. Despite the sweat trailing down my throat, I felt content in its embrace. Dark clouds shifted overhead, undecided if they were simply smeary grey clouds or heavy ones close to bursting a seam. In the distance, somewhere off toward the horizon, was the rumble of thunder. I wished I could inhale that thunder, or drink it, or somehow absorb it through the ground with my fingertips. Thunder just makes summer.
There are cicadas, crickets, a million dollarweed pushing up through the sand that my fingers had nestled into, and the humidity, and the smell of summer rain. There are the dramatic sunsets too, but none make summer like the sound of thunder.
I felt the thunder roll through me the nights prior, late after everyone else had gone to sleep. Maybe I had inhaled some of it. It came out of my fingers and into the paintbrush. Summer nights maybe are for painting thunder. Someone on my local Buy Nothing Project was giving away a mirror frame with no mirror. Nobody else wanted it, but I decided it would become a window on my porch to the beach within. And so I painted it.
I’m no great fancy painter, but summer nights call for painting, and the thunder needed a release.
The Before:
And Then The After:
I tossed a glance at the window to the ocean on my way back up the porch. In the kitchen I scrubbed all the dirt out of the lines in my hands that were like tiny mazes. Bacteria were invisibly wandering the gorges of my fingerprints and crevices. The cake had cooled and the children were assembling themselves at the table in preparation for the assembly of the cake. Fingers lightning fast were dipped into the frosting bowl, which I envied somewhat—touching that silky soft pillow of cream cheese icing with bare skin must be a pleasure.
“How many hummingbirds went into this cake?” the boy asked devilishly.
I pondered for a moment.
“Fifteen.”
“You said fourteen earlier.”
“One was a conjoined twin,” my husband said as he entered the room.
“Those things in it that look like nuts—those are actually the bones,” the boy said to the girl.
“Why is it called a hummingbird cake?” She asked sweetly.
“I don’t know…maybe because it isn’t just one thing…it has bananas and pineapple—”
“She is skirting the facts,” my husband said in passing, “it has 14 hummingbirds in it.”
“You mean fifteen,” the boy said.
I finished slapping the frosting on there, with a quick attempt at the frosting version of frills. It was decided that it didn’t make sense to save it for Father’s Day, or Papa’s Day in this case, because there would be enough to eat it then too.
We sat at the table eating cake and debating how it was that the hummingbirds were caught, and telling the boy, who dropped a piece, not to try to make it fly. The girl looked down at my plott hound, who has soft brown eyes on a velveteen face, and let her lick the frosting off her cheeks.
“Oh I love her so much. I wish I could tell her I love her and that she would understand,” the girl said between licks.
“She doesn’t need words to know. When you pet her, and look at her lovingly, and speak gently to her, she knows.”
And that also applies to the thunder, summer, hummingbird cakes, and my family. It especially applies to a thundering summer night making a hummingbird cake with my family. I love all of those things.
If you ever find yourself close enough to inhale thunder, you'll discover it has a rather shocking flavor.
Fancy picture you made there.
I've got this feeling now that I have been jinxed. As someone that spends time gardening before thunderstorms frequently, universe hear my words: I wanted to inhale thunder, not lightning.
You know that feeling where you have just given birth to art? You birthed it and therefore you love it unconditionally. It doesn't matter its quality, you love it like a part of yourself that you just discovered. So anyway, I can stare lovingly at little bits of my art - like the particular strokes in particular parts of the clouds. So when I see it all on camera, somehow the camera forces the eye to look at the whole picture, unlike when you are standing in front of it, and the eye just bounces around to certain places. And this is always awkward to me. I dislike photos of my art. Anyway, thanks.
Take that - I just threw a paragraph and a half at your one and a half sentences. I win again.
Yeah. Don't be out there huffing lightning. It's not quite the same as licking a 9V battery I hear.
And I know what you mean. Camera takes away the flow and makes it flat. Even taking closeup photos of the details then attempting to explain wouldn't help. The eye locks on the closeup, seeing it as one. A closeup of a closeup probably wouldn't help either. That's just getting weird.
Mine starts out as digital. I can modify games and place it on the walls of those worlds. Experiencing it like that is better than printing it. As if it's meant to exist in that world and not in life. Almost the opposite of what you're saying.
Indeed, we are opposites in many ways, and it makes sense our art is too. I love that people can be opposites, but still find commonalities. And I love that art is a piece of a world that the artist just pulled out of their mind and plopped down somewhere, and it exists on its own. Congrats on being a fellow world maker. We should really congratulate ourselves on this hard work of creating more often :)
And then your awesome mirrorless-mirror-frame-window-painting-of-the-beach happens
So, now I have to taste hummingbird cake, my life won't be complete without it. Also, I'll probably try inhaling thunder, but if it goes badly for me, I'm blaming you GA.
Yes, it is finished! I do this thing where I unconsciously clench my teeth while I paint. Which is odd, because it is a fairly relaxing thing to my mind...but apparently something that is also extremely controlled. Anyway, after painting for a couple hours I will not be able to chew properly. Folks trying to lose weight maybe should try painting. So the painting is finished, and no permanent damage to my jaw!
Here you are: https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/hummingbird-cake/ Easiest cake to make, and rather useful for people that seem to have a permanent surplus of bananas. I can just see you prancing about in your apron as you dust your cake pans ;)
It's a rather nice painting and even should your jaw have suffered a little, I'd have said it was still worth it. I'll give you $100 (US. But you have to pay for shipping to AU. Deal?
Yes, a glorious sight to behold if ever there was one...But...My comment on the cake wasn't about me making it, more just a hint for someone, maybe you, to make it for me. Problematic I know, considering the distance, but most problems can be overcome with some clever thinking. But yes of course, me dusting pans in an apron should certainly be on everybody's bucket list.
Ha, no deal. I'm rather fond of it. It isn't perfect, but it is perfect for the spot it sits upon a glass table on my porch. It kind of makes me want to ship a very large box stuffed with tissue paper to your door, just so you would be like Oh crap, she took me seriously. I don't think I have your address anymore though, so you are safe :)
Sending a cake does sound problematic, and a plane ticket will cost over $2,000. That is an expensive cake. I'm sure you could talk some Australian into making it and shave off about $1,975.
Yeah, I figured you'd want to keep it but thought it was worth a try. One must have a GA original in one's house. I'll keep nibbling away at it and I think you'll relent eventually.
Yeah, I've moved too, since I sent you that stuff so...I'd have to send it. I don't mind, if you're shipping that painting to me I'll be happy to give it to you. Not sure about the tissue paper, but it'll certainly be cheaper to send!
I'll begin to work on just thins concept.
I don't think I want to know anything so concrete as an address. I like my image of your big picture window with the lavender blooming and the rain washing over everything and the cat curled on the corner of your desk. I like that moment, and I've sealed it there, and that is the way your house will always be. :)
Well, I was only going to send it if cake was going to be forthcoming. Lol.
It's a lovely little situation in which to write and think, the window, cleansing rain making my lavender glitter with a thousands sparkles...a curled up Cleo. I'm glad you have that vision and I'm glad I have the reality. 😏
Ooft, that's quite a painting!
I have been in many of those tablet filmed movies and they all go exactly like that 🙂
How did you know ooft was the sound I made while hauling it through the house to its new home on my porch? Ooft. Don't knock off the impatient pot. Ooft. Don't get stabbed by the crown of thorns.
What crosses continents and unites parents despite cultural differences and accent barriers? The dreaded tablet movie.
It is a universal sound that ooft hehe.
The tablet movie that takes forever to set up in and is then abandoned after you have sat patiently with a banana or similar on your head for half an hour
I've got this image in my head of you having mastered knocking the banana off your head and catching it in your mouth, and the children completely missing this film-worthy moment while they squabble. :)
Haha, they miss lots when they squabble! That reminds me of the party game where you get a biscuit or a sweet and tilt your head back and the sweet gets placed on it and you have to get it into your mouth with no hands. I am pretty good at that one as I stick my massive tongue out and catch it! :OD
Well now that lion profile pic will forever be changed into the frog version of you in my mind. I'm sure you make just as good a frog as you do a lion :)
I do have a majestic ribbit :OD
Oh ! You created a very fine transition of the frame. It is so perfect for that art.
I would like a slice of that cake too please. Yum !!
It is a unique feeling when thunder is so close you can feel it's rumbles all through your body. Not sure I like the idea of lightening being that close, but thunder rumbles are nice.
I love that frame. It actually was the first thing I painted, before I had any idea what I was painting on the inside. I'm a little bit metallic obsessed. Silver and gold are my new favorite paint colors. I think I got lucky that the painting ended up matching the frame. I probably would have started it all over again before changing the frame. :)
It has been 29 hours and the cake is almost gone. Four people in this house happen to be fond of it.
Indeed, lightning is pretty scary, but that distant somewhere-on-the-horizon rumble - it is the best.
That's a very calming picture that you created, even if you can hear a thunder in the back!
Beautiful doggy too. Is the black puppy still with you? I remember that she had a rough start in life.
You have a good memory. Yes, my black lab mix is still with us, and she is a parvo survivor. She probably would be very jealous that she did not take part in this post. She is now 60 pounds of playful lab-pitbull love.
That's wonderful!
Maybe I'll see her in another post :)
YOU MAKE SUCH PRETTY THINGS!!!! I didn't know you were a paintress.
I love your plott hound, too, though she doesn't look to be plotting anything.
I like your snuggly humidity sentence.
I am a jack(tress) of many trades, that is for sure. Thank you - I like pretty things. There are never enough pretty things. Humorously, the plott hound is always assuming that someone else is plotting something. Every time my husband gets out a fly swatter, the measuring tape, or an umbrella, she is certain there is something evil afoot, and announces it loudly to the world.
Oh, but umbrellas are most certainly evil!!! That's why we never use them in Portland.
As a child I was pinched by them while closing them up many a time, so I have to agree. Quite evil. May Portland continue to fight the good fight of good vs. umbrella :)
😆
This is beautiful! I love the fluffly clouds and muted colours.
And the banter about hummingbird bones made me laugh. I will have to go find thunder to inhale, it seems to produce great after effects 😁
Thank you! I definitely recommend a healthy dose of thunder, while keeping the accompanying lightning at a safe distance :)
So many beautiful things in this post: photographs, painting, cake, dog, and stories about people who love each other.
The part about the bones cracked me up, because my husband doesn't like to find nuts in his ice cream, and calls them "bones." I think he learned that from his dad.
I am visualizing an ice cream man, something like a hybrid of the Kool-Aid man and a snowman. He is hopping about, leaving melty sticky smudges on people's countertops - and that is the guy that has bones in your husband's ice cream. I imagine after enough of those sticky countertop smudges left, somebody gets frustrated and grabs an ice cream scoop and the next thing you know Mr. Ice Cream is in the freezer without properly sorting out the bones. Gosh that was morbid. I suppose this was the counterbalance to all the love in this post. Ha. Thank you for reading my cheerful post, and my morbid commentary :)
More chuckling ensued!!
Congratulations @ginnyannette! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain And have been rewarded with New badge(s)
Your next target is to reach 7500 comments.
You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOP