Today's Free Write was done from home. The rain is still pouring with flooding reported in nearby villages. Julia is still writing from Switzerland. Without flooding.
Mags first wore black the day of her mother's funeral. She noticed no one else did, although many wore somber colors. Even her father's suit was charcoal.
Her mother had been artist using color almost as a weapon against a sad world.
Mags was rejected by the Museum of Fine Arts School, but was accepted at the nearby Mass College of Art.
All her clothes were black and or black and white. It wasn't goth. Almost all her panting were shades of gray.
As a kid she was an Army Brat. Her family had been assigned to Japan, Norway and Switzerland. Her father loved waterfalls. Wherever they lived they visited waterfalls. Mags loved going to as near the water as possible to feel the spray on her face.
She found photo albums of pictures her mother had taken of waterfalls.She decided to paint them in shades of gray and black, for she had discovered black had hidden depth. Her teachers were upset that she didn't follow the directions. They were worried she was depressed. So she quit and went to her stufio-living space and did nothing but paint waterfalls, never with blue sky.
The one thing different was to make a wire tree with tiny little blackbirds. She hung those next to her electric fire. Too bad the flame was yellow.
When she finished she laid on her couch and looked for days. Johanna, her best friend came by. She was wore a rainbow poncho she'd made.
Mags wanted to tell her to take it off. Johanna put on the electric flame. Mags shut it off. No one understood color hurt.
Johanna had known Mag's mother. "You are denying her legacy," she told Mags.
The next day she was back with paper and colored chalk only there was no black or gray.
Every day Johanna came. Mags had done nothing.
Finally Johanna took a sheet to paper and drew a red line across the middle. Not a straight line but a squiggly one. The next day she added baby blue lines, three. "Your mother loved color," she would say each time.
One Monday, before Johanna was due to bring lunch as she did every Monday, Mags picked up a green piece of chalk and drew a leaf, not a very good leaf, but one that was recognizable.
That was the beginning. Mags continued to wear black, gray and white clothes the rest of her life. Most of her art work looked like black and white photos, except now she added one bit of color in each one, a memorial.
Rick's Free Write
Birds, fire, waterfall
Air, water, fire. Essentials of life.
On one wall of our bedroom in the south of France, over time, we have crafted a tapestry of serenity. Not just because of the scenes – birds on branches, a majestic waterfall, the warmth of a fireplace – but also for the manner in which we acquired them and the people connections they represent.
The wire birds were discovered at an art vernissage in the upper room above our favourite village restaurant, which is run by two dear friends.
The plunging waterfall framing two forests, connected by an arched bridge, had been on display in the restaurant at the end of the street, opposite the church, which is operated by a gregarious Frenchman, who gives Sherlock cheeses and saucisson when we pass by. D-L had clearly admired the art, and I surprised her with it, bringing it home and hanging it on the wall without her realizing it.
The fireplace/radiator was an inspiration of a Canadian couple who have a second home here. They had one installed and told us where to get the same. Ours was mounted by another friend whose handy skills, including artistic touches, are evident throughout our flat – from stone walls to the art mounted on the open air patio to the theatre-style lights (which remind me of my professional actor grandson and granddaughter). Not to mention D-L’s ‘Nest’ as well.
Indeed, all of the artwork in our apartments, including in Switzerland, are reminders of special people in our lives.
Galleries of memories.
Julia's Free Write
Three, her favorite number. Why? Probably not because of her birthday. Although it was a 3, the rest were mostly even numbers, but then again she preferred odd numbers. Again, Why?
So, the composition in the photo was perfect.
Also, the subject matter of all three objects: a very much floating-in-the-wind outline of a tree branch and moon in the winter; a lovely painting, again flowing water; a fireplace below, yet again a natural element.
Three objects, three natural elements: fire, wind, water. All calming, soothing, relaxing.
That wall composition let one breath.
Would have at least, had it not been for the fact that the lights in the front of the fireplace hadn’t reminded her of childhood pleasures: camping near a stream, cool nights even in the summer which made the real campfire a pleasure, especially, again those lights, a reminder of roasting marshmallows.
Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com, a weekly newsletter reporting the top stories about the airline industry. He is the author of The Robot in the Simulator. AI in Aviation Training.
Visit D-L.'s website https://dlnelsonwriter.com, She is the author of 15 fiction and three non fiction books. Her 300 Unsung Women, bios of women who battled gender limitations, can be purchased at https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/300-unsung-women-d-l-nelson/1147305797?ean=9798990385504
Visit Julia's blog. She has written and taken photos and loves syncing up with friends. Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/
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