Touch

All Hallow's Eve. Samhain. Halloween.

Call it what you like but once you cross over from Here to There, it's the biggest day of the year--the one you look forward to the most. The day when the World of the Living and the World of the Dead--Here and There--touch for just a few short hours. It's the day when the veil is thin; the door is wide open.

Don't get me wrong! I journey back and forth all the time... usually when you're asleep though. I like to check in, see that everything's okay... see that you're okay. But it's hard to get your attention. A puff of smoke in the corner of your eye or a yellow bird. You hear me calling to you but then tell yourself that you were just imagining it. You dream of me... but your memory is foggy. But tonight--Halloween night--you're thinking of me, all of us... the dead. Your eyes are on me, waiting, wondering if you'll see me or hear me. It's easy to reach out to you when you're looking for me.

I've got to go! The door between Here and There has been open for a few hours now and I have a long list of people I want to get to see today...

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A very Happy Halloween to you all! At last! The greatest day of the year has arrived and I hope you all manage to have a magical, spooky time today with family and friends and a few monsters too...

 

I was originally going to try to write a scary story for today, but then I got thinking about what Halloween is all about, how it all started. This is the day that the veil between the world of the living and the dead is at it's thinnest. You don't know who--or what--you are passing down the street on this day. Those amazing costumes you see? They might be a bit more real than you imagined. Here and There is touching today, the door is wide open, and there's no knowing who you'll bump into today!

 

I was wondering what There does to celebrate this day (imagine all of the different customs and cultures collected from all the diverse people over There!) and I imagined that it is one of the busiest days of the year for them. They don't have to sneak into your dreams to visit you. They can come to you head on, because that is what Halloween is all about. You all know who I'm waiting for... May you all be visited by someone you love today, get a little spooked, and eat your weight in candy.

 

Happy Halloween!!

 

a.r.w.

Sugar

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I'm in a huge Disney kick lately but I'm still trying to keep up with my Halloween posts... So, here are my sugar skull Disney princesses. I feel like you either love these princesses--their optimism, sweet nature, and kindness--or you hate them and see them as weak, pathetic, and a product of the time they were created. They are just dumb chicks with pretty faces... I wanted to take those pretty face and paint them even more.

 

I love the classic princesses. Of course, they are not the typical strong heroine that we are so used to in our stories today but there is more to be admired in someone than just their strength--kindness goes a long way and in the end people will remember how you treat them, not how impressive you think you are.

 

Only one more day until Halloween!!!!!!

 

a.r.w.

Daisies

i seek optimism

like daisies in sibir’a

growing through the snow

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There are daisies that grow here in Siberia. Despite the constant promise of snow, the threat of the cold, and fear of darkness, they continue to grow here... I hope to find such optimism one day.

 

a.r.w.

Hiding

 

There is a cat hiding out on the moon, I know. I've seen him smiling down on me.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Now this picture did not come out as nice as I wanted it to be... but I still love my black cat hiding out on the moon.

 

My whole life whenever I see a crescent moon, I always point and say, "The Cheshire Cat smile!" Crescent moons are my absolute favorite because of that very reason.

 

In my mind I have a story of how a witch was flying by the moon on her broomstick when her pet cat fell off and landed safely on the moon. At first he was annoyed by the inconvenience but lately, he smiles. Up on the moon there is no sadness, no worries, no one to think that you're bad luck, and no pesky dogs always barking at you.

 

Only 3 more days until Halloween!!

 

a.r.w.

Waves

even though you're gone

we can still feel your touch Here

you're making waves, kid

*~*~*~*~*~*

As I was washing the dishes, I had a "what the f*** happened?" moment. I think back to my life a year ago--two years ago--and it feels like both another lifetime and just a moment ago. One minute Jed was Here and the next **clap** he was There (his words, not mine). It's just so strange to still be living, day to day, doing both mundane things like grocery shopping and extraordinary things like trips to Disney or hiking through the Himalayas, knowing that he will never do these things with me again... and somehow I'm supposed to keep on going as if that doesn't mess with my head immensely.

But then I saw an article written about Jed and the new sarcoma research being done at Roswell Cancer Institute. Because of him and the amazing amount of community support with Red for Jed, the doctors at Roswell decided to take a grant and put their efforts into researching and hopefully destroying sarcoma once and for all. I stand in awe of my little brother. Even six months after leaving Here, he is still impacting our community and the pediatric cancer community in such profound ways.

Nice work, dude... I'm so proud to be your sisso... Always and forever... To infinity and BEYOND!! 56 days... ;-)

a.r.w.

Venture

you wish to know me?

touch my scars and kiss my tears…

few venture this way

Fuzzies

"Aw, crap."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's snowing already.

I know, I know. I'm in Siberia and I should have expected this. I was warned, "Winter is coming," but I didn't expect it to arrive so quickly!

We've had a few flurries (or "fuzzies" as my coworkers like to call them) but nothing impressive or substantial... until today. There is a mantle of white out there and it isn't even Halloween yet! Though, I suppose Christmas is only two months away...

Poor Mr. Jack 'o Lantern... nobody gives his holiday a chance (though he gets a bit more attention than Mr. Turkey).

Only 6 days until Halloween!

a.r.w.

The Gift

When stars are born

 

They possess a gift or two…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There is an old Serbian proverb that says, Be humble for you are made of earth. Be noble for you are made of stars. We are the very best of both worlds. Star dust makes up our very beings--star dust from millions and billions of years ago, connecting us to the very universe that surrounds. If that is not a magnificent thought, then I don't know what is.

 

Today's doodle was created from inspiration by a great number of different things throughout the day.

 

The first was listening to the music from the Disney firework show "Wishes" which starts with the very famous and oh so beloved saying, "When stars are born, they possess a gift or two... One of them is this: They have the power to make a wish come true." Immediately I thought to the precious brother I BEGGED my parents for. I wanted nothing more than to be a big sister... and my wish was granted with Jed. He has given me the greatest relationship I have ever seen between a brother and a sister, a lifetime of memories, years of laughter, and an incredible friend. I miss my brother--my star--every single day (today is one of those rough days if you can't tell...) but I am so grateful for him for making my wish come true and making my life so much brighter.

 

Another inspiration from today was a post I saw online that was between two stars talking to one another saying, "Being a human was the hardest thing I ever had to do." "Same here." My breath was taken away by that thought.  This is the hard part of life--the tears, the pain, the sickness--but that will make the joyful reunion and happy eternity over There all the sweeter. Jed has become that shining star once more, illuminating my world that has turned a bit too dark for my liking lately.

 

I think back to that beautiful quote from Star Wars: Luminous beings are we... not this crude matter. It seems to be a similar idea--across cultures--that once we make it through this part of life and travel from Here to There, life gets brighter... as do we...

 

From stars we came from and to stars we will return.

 

a.r.w.

Paint

"What a beautiful color!"

"So deep!"

"Luscious, even!"

The prima ballerina smiled as she made her way to her dressing room.

Slamming the door shut behind her, she ignored the muffled scream of the young ingénue she had tied to her sink.

The girl's pale white skin was covered in cuts--some old and scabbing, some new and still bleeding.

Wiping the old, dull red from her lips, the prima ballerina stood up and tip toed over to the girl, the silver knife clutched in her hand.

"They love my new color," she smiled as she knelt down before the trembling girl. "But it's not quite what I'm looking for."

Without a word, she sliced the girl's throat, the bright red blood splattering her face.

Standing to look in the mirror, the prima ballerina rubbed her finger along her lips, painting them a deep, vicious red.  

She smiled. Finally, it was the perfect color.

"They'll love it."

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Bloody-Ballerina-259300819

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There's just something fun about ballerinas and twisted creepy stories. Ballet is supposed to be this beautiful, poetic performance, not twisted and wrong... but if you think about it--how the ballerinas contort their bodies and feet, maybe it isn't as perfect as we think it's supposed to be.

 

I know I'm a few days late to this writing prompt, "paint," but I immediately wanted to work with lipstick and blood (of course). Ballerinas, blood, and madness... what's not to love?!? This is starting to sound like Black Swan now...

 

Only 8 more days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

Stories

I never believed in the old stories my grandmother used to fill my head with--tales of the strigoi, Baba Yaga, and the Old Country--that's all they ever were... stories. She always warned me that the forest wasn't safe... and now as I hike through a forest so far east in Europe, we might be in Asia for all I know, her stories begin to echo through my memories.

I shift my grip on the urn holding her ashes as I try to look down at the hand drawn map where my destination--the lake--was scribbled among the trees.

Not trusting my sense of direction, I look around at the winding trails when my eyes spot the sight of an old man just beyond the tree line.

"Excuse me?" I call out and the man peeks around the tree, smiling at me. "Is this the way to the lake?"

He just stares at me in silence. Of course... He wouldn't speak English and I don't know a word of his language. But after a moment, he wanders down to the trail I am on. With one last look at me, he turns and begins to march further down the path.

We wander through the forest for hours, not uttering a word. As the sky gets darker, I ask, "Are we almost there?" We've been walking for hours and I know I still need to turn around and make my way back out before nightfall. Of course, I'm met with nothing but silence.

As I round the bend, I stop in my marching. The old man is gone--completely vanished from sight. I scan the trees looking for any sight of him when my eyes fall on an old cottage hidden among the trees. I take in the sight of the house with it's chicken legs and I feel my stomach drop. The only thing more frightening that seeing this house--the house of Baba Yaga--was seeing smoke billowing out from the chimney... telling me that someone was home.

"Oh great."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

So talking about the boogeyman in one of my previous posts got me thinking about Russia's version of the scary monster that could come and take you away in the night--Baba Yaga. Sometimes a maternal helper, sometimes a ferocious villain, Baba Yaga is both terrifying and fascinating (how can you not be when your house has chicken legs?).

 

This story was also inspired by my hike in the pine forest a few weeks ago now. As we were marching through the trees, I couldn't help but think back to the legends of strigoi and monsters and, of course, Baba Yaga. The woods have a different feel here as opposed to America or China or anywhere else I've been hiking. There is that mystery and that feeling of not knowing exactly what you'll see when you turn around the next corner.

 

While we were hiking, I thought I saw an old man in a tan coat and a tan hat walking along a trail a bit below us (I honestly thought it looked like my grandfather--Poppy). The top of his hat disappeared behind the yellow leaves of a bush and I never saw him come out the other side. I just stood there, staring at where I knew this man was supposed to be... but he never appeared again.

 

It just added to my belief that there is something eerie and unnatural about the forests here in Siberia.

 

Only 9 (single digits!!!) days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w. 

Flower Lady

 

There's a little old lady

I see her around

She's one of the ghosts that follows me

Selling flowers throughout town

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There is this old lady I see sometimes on my way home from work. I usually see her at night when it is raining and she is always holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand, hoping to sell them. Twice now I've passed her going into the grocery story, thinking, I'll get some change and then buy her flowers. But each time I come out of the store she vanishes from sight. She's a mystery! A ghostly flower lady!

 

Every so often a small child looks at you or maybe just slightly to the left or right of you, fascinated. But when you turn to see what it is they're staring at, there's nothing there. Maybe they're more in tune with the spirit world and see what we cannot. Maybe we all have different ghosts walking with us through this journey of life. Sometimes I like to think I have a whole collection of ghosts following me around.

 

Only 10--TEN!!--days until Halloween!!

 

a.r.w.

 



 

 

Notebook

I kneel down, trying to ignore the old rusted autopsy table beside me. It's been some time since I've been to an insane asylum; they always make me uneasy... as if the spirits of this place will recognize me as one of their own and keep me forever.

"Micah?" I can hear Kyle from down the hall.

We've only been here for a few minutes and He's already whispered in my ear to wander--my wandering has  brought me to the basement much to my dismay.

"Micah! Where'd you go?"

Kyle and his two friends come bumbling into the room. I still wish I hadn't come. There are few thing worse than rookie ghost hunters and it looks to me as if these guys just bought their equipment yesterday.

One of them shines his flashlight in my eyes. I wince. Ever since the possession, I've been sensitive to light.

"Oh," he mutters, dropping the damn thing. "Sorry."

"What'd you find?" Kyle seems oblivious to the exchange, his eyes locked on what I have in my hand.

I look down. I forgot that I picked it up.

I shrug and hand it to him. "It's a little notebook."

"This thing has got to be a hundred years old." He begins flipping through the old yellowed pages.

I don't know why He brought me down here but I always try to listen to him when he talks... it's usually a rarity. But suddenly, there is a chill in the air and I find myself wishing to be anywhere else in the world right now. Anywhere but this basement.

"Can we go?" I ask suddenly; the panic in my voice surprises me.

"It's full of names," Kyle continues to ignore everything in the room other than himself.

"It's probably just the doctor keeping records of the people who died here," Kyle's friend Garret chimes in. "We are in a morgue after all."

"Can we please go?" I raise my voice, His voice echoing my words in my head, It's time to go.

"I'm with demon girl," the third one--Jay--inches his way toward me. I hate his nickname for me, and I'm sure he wouldn't like my nickname for him--the scaredy cat. But right now, I don't care who my ally is as long as I have one. "Hello?" he calls out to his friends once more.

"Hold on a minute!" Kyle almost sounds annoyed at us. His eyes are locked on a page in the little notebook, wide and bewildered. His eyes jump up to me for a moment as He screams in my ear, GET OUT OF HERE!

Kyle shudders as if he can hear His warning too. "Your name is written in here, Micah."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Today's writing prompt was "a little notebook" and I immediately wanted to continue writing about Micah Meyers, the demon possessed girl from my October 2nd story, Brave. I haven't actually had a chance to sit down and write anything in a long time now, so this felt good to get out while dinner was cooking.

 

I also created a bunch of little spiders today! Here is the result of my second creation from yesterday... I think they enjoyed making their spooky, cooky looking crowns!

 

 

 

Only 11 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.



Cleanse

water cleanses souls

brings life and renews the sick

no shame in your tears

*~*~*~*~*~*

Still in a bit of a rough patch but much better than yesterday... That has to do with the ridiculous selfless love of my husband, wise words from my mama, and the support that you guys showed. It means a lot... Being away from almost everyone you love during the hardest part of your life is no walk in the park, that's for sure!

 

I almost didn't post anything today for lack of time and inspiration but Adam almost lost it and demanded that I go to my computer and create something (thanks, babe!). So here is a haiku to try and tell myself that it's okay to cry and to try and not be ashamed of my emotions--they are the result of a deep love. I hope you never feel shame in your tears either.

 

I also made this epically goofy spider crown to make with my kindergarteners tomorrow. I cannot friggin' wait. So that's TWO creations for you today!

 

 

Hang in there, folks. Halloween is just 11 days away...

a.r.w.

Hold Me

strings hold me togeth’r

to keep me from falling ‘part

they’re made of barbed wire

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I had a rough time today missing Jed. I'm not sure what sparked it... and honestly, I don't think I ever do. It's hard to always smile and laugh for everyone around you when all you want to do is collapse. I overestimated myself, I think. This is harder than I could have ever imagined.

 

Hopefully tomorrow will be easier.

 

a.r.w.

and Round

a princess’s life

to just be wild and free

take yourself and go

 

*~*~*~*~*

an empress’s life

trapped within an illusion

she’s forever theirs

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

One of my idols and favorite historical figures is the very mysterious and very peculiar Sisi, Empress Elisabeth of Austria. At just fifteen, she became the empress of probably the most powerful monarchy in the world. Her life started as a Cinderella story--a nobody princess, living a wild and carefree life in Bavaria. After meeting the young and handsome Franz Josef, she married for love and quickly realized that the dream of love and luxury was actually a nightmare. No longer free to do what she wanted--explore, play, ride horses, and simply be her carefree self--she became trapped in the pleasantries of court life where she was simply the emperor's beautiful wife... Until she took matters into her own hands.

 

Always an enigma, she was considered the most beautiful woman in the world at the time and she used that to her advantage. She used sex as a weapon against her husband and as a bargaining tool when it came to protecting the common folk in the countries under her control. Her beauty regime lasted hours--she bathed in milk, washed her hair in cognac, ate only oranges and eggs, exercised to exhaustion, and would probably have been considered anorexic by today's standards. And yet the people adored her and even today people are still fascinated with the tragic beauty.

 

Here are two haikus about Sisi--one from when she was a child and another when she was a queen... To go along with the haikus, I thought of drawing her with one of her beloved horses but then decided to put a twist on it--her horses took her nowhere and she was never able to fully escape the reaches of the Habsburg regime--her horses were nothing more than little carousel horses, always bringing her back to where she belonged.

 

a.r.w.

Boogeyman

As I lay in bed in a restless sleep, my phone buzzes, alerting me of a text message. It illuminates the otherwise dark room, blinding my eyes for a moment. I reach out for it, blinking the sleep from my eyes. It reads:

MARK:
Wake up.

"Mark, stop it," I mumble, tossing my phone back onto the bedside table.

"Stop what?" his groggy voice responds in the darkness next to me.

"Texting me..."

A moment passes and then he asks, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"You just texted me--cut it out."

"It wasn't me--"

It buzzes again.

MARK:
Can you hear me?

"Mark!"

"It's not me!" he tries to defend himself. "My phone is in the living room!"

I lay still in the bad, my eyes wide as I stare up at the ceiling as my phone buzzes once more with a message from Mark's phone.

MARK:
Come and play, Jessica.

I don't know how I find the courage to crawl out of bed but I ignore my pounding heart and my sweaty palms and I tip toe over to the door. Down the hall I can see the dim glow of a cellphone illuminated in the living room.

My phone buzzes one more time.

MARK:
I see you.

I stand frozen in fear for only a moment, my eyes daring to search the darkness of the room for whoever--or whatever--is down there. But deep down I already knew who it is... The one who lives in the shadows of the night. The one who no one sees and yet everyone fears. The one I never believed in as a little girl.

The boogeyman.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

One of the things that freaks me out the most? Dangling my foot off the bed. It feels SO GOOD but I will not risk boogeyman attack status.

 

I find the idea of the boogeyman to be so interesting. Literally all over the world, in almost every culture, there is a boogeyman--some nameless, faceless monster that will come and snatch you in the dark of the night. In the Bahamas, they have "small man" who rides a horseless cart, picking up kids who are still playing after dark. The "Ou-wu" is from China and is an old woman who steals children away. Abu Rigl Maslukha or "The Man with the Burnt Leg" is a being from Egypt that kidnaps children and eats them. Iceland has a female troll named Grýla who will eat you on Christmas Eve (she is also Santa Claus's mother) and in Russia, we have Baba Yaga an old woman who kidnaps children and eats them.

 

It's interesting that different people from all over the world with different cultures, beliefs, and traditions would all fear the same thing--a dark entity, hiding in the shadows somewhere, that will come in the night to steal you or your children away.

 

And even what we, as humans, all tend to fear is interesting. Black, sunken in eyes. Razor sharp teeth. Elongated faces. Deathly pale skin. The image in your mind is frightening as it is for most people who would sit and think about such a face. Perhaps it is evolutionarily engrained in our conscience to fear these things. Just as we fear lightning when it could mean fire or our homes burning down not so long ago. We fear violent, wild animals because in our human history that meant our family could be in danger. What about these pale beings with sunken black eyes and razor sharp teeth? What happened to the human race--what did we see--that we would all still naturally fear such a face?

 

Be sure to sleep under the covers tonight... Don't let the boogeyman get you.

 

Only 15 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

Greater

we are all longing

(though many dare not admit)

for something greater

&



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

For those of you who feel restless--go! Follow your bliss! Do what makes your heart sing and your hands shake! Be just like Belle--don't just long for adventure in the great wide somewhere... go and get it.

 

So many times we think that happiness can be measured in a bank account or a ring on your finger or the car we get into each day. The mundane... while you can be content, is it really what you long for? Try new foods, see new places, learn how to tap dance, and speak French.

 

Be the person your six year old self imagined you would be. Make them proud.

 

a.r.w.

Pulling

My hair is being pulled by the stars again.

~Anaïs Nin

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I absolutely love Anais Nin. I think that she has some of the absolute greatest and most beautiful thoughts, ideas, and quotes of all time. She talks of writing, love, life, and the fear of the mundane. If you haven't read anything of hers or heard of her, you need to just go to Goodreads and read her quotes--they will inspire you!

 

One of my hopes with this blog was to recapture that whimsical nature I once had. I've always been a dreamer with my head in the clouds, reaching for the stars, ready to follow my nose. Lately, I've been a bit more timid, afraid of very real world things, and that fanciful world that I always lived in is painted black and frightens me. Slowly but surely, I feel myself painting my world back to the colorful place I've always known it to be.

 

The minute I read this quote, I saw this painting in my head. I wasn't sure if I had the talent to do this painting... The stars and sky I hate but I am actually really proud of the girl's face (yes, shock shock! It's a face of a girl again). I might try to redo the background someday when I get better at this. But overall, I'm really proud of myself and how this painting turned out... I hope it did Anais proud.

 

I'm trying to find the nerve in me to follow where the stars want to take me and with each step I feel like I'm returning to a piece of my old self again. Only time will tell...

 

a.r.w.

Secrets

I want to be hugged

By the trees and their secrets

Kissed by falling leaves

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There are few things in life as invigorating to my soul as Autumn. Everything about it--the crisp chill in the air, the bright orange and red leaves, the days getting shorter and the nights getting longer, the smell of dirt, leaves, and wet wood everywhere (seriously, they need to bottle that and sell it), and the most sacred and joyous of holidays--Halloween--creeping closer and closer.

 

My soul has been hurting lately and no matter what I tried to use to heal it, it never seemed to last too long (even two trips to Disney World didn't seem to work anymore... and that is saying something my friends). But there is something strangely magical and healing the moment you step foot inside the forest... something I was finally able to do this past weekend after over a month and a half here in Novosibirsk.

 

The trees surround you and block out the rest of the world and it's troubles; their branches shield you from the sky, making you forget the passage of time. The birds sing a symphony for you and the leaves crunch beneath your feet, reminding you that there is always beauty in everything--even death. And there is a mystery among the trees--you don't know what they are hiding... the forest is full of secrets--and for awhile you are a part of its secret and its story as you wander among the paths and run your fingers along the tree trunks.

 

Maybe it's because we originated within the trees. They once sheltered us and housed us. We've forgotten the trees--we've begun to shun them, replacing them with concrete jungles instead. We've grown anxious and sick... though we don't know why or how until we step foot back in the forest and we realize that we were just homesick for the trees--the magic of the forest... our ancient home.

 

I hope you find time to get lost among the trees while they are still putting on a dazzling show for you... You'll feel it's healing touch even before you knew that you needed it.

 

Only 18 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.



Apple Pie

Dorothy cursed as the knife sliced through her finger, crimson red blood dripping down onto the perfectly flattened dough she was about to drape over the cinnamon and chopped apples.

"Apple pie," she hissed between clenched teeth, pushing the brown ringlet from her face, leaving a smear of white flour and red blood along her forehead.

It was her daughter, Bianca's, favorite--stepdaughter, her furious thoughts reminded her--as she tossed the finished pie, complete with her own blood, sweat, and tears, into the oven.

It would be hours until her new husband came home and only minutes until Bianca arrived... she was running out of time.

The house was spotless as always and Dorothy primped her hair, washed the blood from her face, fluffed her tulle petticoat, and straightened the pearls around her neck as she stood before the mirror--the only thing in that damned house to ever give her any attention.

She had married into this family--Richard had worked on the Manhattan Project nearly ten years ago and that had brought him both money and a fine paying job at the local university where he spent all of his time... the remaining time he spent at home with Bianca... Never Dorothy.

The jealousy and rage boiled up inside the housewife as she let out a scream and slammed her fist against the mirror, her twisted face even more distorted in the shards at her feet.

"Dorothy? I'm home!" the twelve year-old's voice called out through the house, making the woman ignore the blood dripping from her knuckles and bottle up her emotions once more--her rage hidden by a sweet smile.

"I'm in the kitchen!" she called out, her voice high pitched.

"Something smells delicious." The beautiful child--the object of Richard's love and affection with her pale white skin, jet black hair, and bright green eyes--entered the kitchen with a smile on her innocent face.

"Your favorite," Dorothy continued as she wiped the blood on a towel, knowing the girl was far too stupid to notice the broken mirror or the blood. With a smile she opened the oven. "Apple pie."

"With cinnamon?"

She kept smiling. "Of course."

Without another word, the girl sat down and began to devour the large slice of pie her stepmother placed on the plate before her.

"Enjoy," Dorothy whispered as she patted her stepdaughter on her head, her fingers tangling in the girl's silky smooth hair.

A moment passed--almost too long for Dorothy's liking--before Bianca hesitated and began to cough.

"Are you alright, dear?"

The fit of coughs continued as Bianca slammed her hand on the table and began gasping for air.

"Bianca?"

The girl tried to stand--to reach out to her stepmother for help--but stumbled as her legs gave out from under her, her body beginning to twitch and shake.

The woman in her pristine and perfect dress, knelt down beside the girl who began to foam at the mouth, her eyes bugging out of her head. "I thought you liked my apple pie," she said, sounding almost heartbroken. "It has cinnamon... just how you like." She paused for a moment, taking the girl's head and placing it into her lap. Stroking her hair, she added with a wicked grin, "Oh! And arsenic."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Today's writing prompt was "apple pie" and I immediately thought of Snow White and her poisoned apple. I decided to give it a 50s twist but still dark and spooky because--hey!--it's almost Halloween!

 

I think the 50s were an interesting time in American history. It was after a world war and it was seen on the outside as a epitome of utopian, ideal Americana. White picket fences, suburbia, and the perfect families where dad goes off to work, the kids go to school, and the mom stays at home keeping herself and the house perfect.

 

But in reality, how ideal, happy, and peaceful was that? I could see people growing tired of perfection and the monotony of every day. And I could see the perfect housewives scheme in their boredom.

 

So here is a twisted take on Snow White and the Evil Queen and the poisoned apple. A 1950s housewife, jealous of her stepdaughter, snaps and gives the girl a poisoned apple pie... only this time, there's no true love to come, kiss her, and wake her up. No happy ending.

 

I think the scariest thing in this world is what a human being is capable of. It's not Freddy or Jason or Michael Myers (though they are terrifyingly awesome). It's not vampires or werewolves or aliens. It's a human being who wears the mask of normalcy but deep down inside they are a monster... A demon hidden behind a perfectly painted face.

 

Only 19 days until Halloween!!

 

a.r.w.

Hitchhike

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Ah! There you are! And just in time... There's a little matter I forgot to mention: Beware of hitchhiking ghosts!

 

These are the three ghosts from my favorite ride at Disney World--the Haunted Mansion. I've recently fallen even more in love with this trio after discovering that there is a pin set that features them (yes, I am one of those poor unfortunate souls [see what I did there?] that is absolutely obsessed with Disney pin trading). I managed to find two out of the three during my honeymoon in August but I am still missing the short hairy guy! So if you find yourself at Disney any time soon and happen upon him, remember me?

 

 

These three ghosts appear at the end of the ride and their names are Phineas (the traveler), Ezra (the skeleton), and Gus (the prisoner)... Phineas is my favorite. They're scary and spooky but at the same time so gosh darn lovable!

 

I decided to take my love of Disney and my love for Halloween and create a Haunted Mansion doodle today. I hope it gets you in the Halloween spirit, makes your spine tingle and skin crawl, and makes you think back to the first time you rode through the Haunted Mansion, terrified only to have it become your absolute favorite.

 

Only 20 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

 

PS: Now a ghost will follow you home... Hahahahahahahahahah!!!!!!!!!!!



Yellow Bird

 

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There is this joke in my family that goes back eight years now to my Uncle Tony's 50th and my cousin Ashley's 16th birthday cruise in the Caribbean--a joke about a yellow bird. When someone gets easily distracted by something, you shout, "Hey look! A yellow bird!" This joke started with one of the comedians on the ship and (like most things in my family), it just took on a life of it's own over the years.

 

There are two kinds of birds in Novosibirsk that I have seen in the last month and a half--crows and pigeons (such is city life)... That is, until today. Today I've been seeing little yellow finches everywhere!

 

I woke up this morning to see one sitting on my window ledge. Later, one almost flew in through my open window. Walking to the post office I saw five more! And as I sat down to start writing this post, another one landed on my window ledge and just stared in at me. I actually like to think that it's just one finch and that he's followed me around like a little familiar.

 

And of course, I always think back to that message Jed gave to us through my mom's friend, Nadine: Look for me in feathers. Of course the first thing that popped into my mind was that Jed was following me, helping me pick up mom's package. Whether it's a "sign" from Jed or not--who knows? But I do know that I love seeing and being distracted by these colorful little birdies.

 

Hey look! A yellow bird!

 

a.r.w.

Cupcake

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Yes, this is a cupcake. Yes, it's a heart.

 

I wish this idea had been my own but I can proudly say that I did not come up with this idea--one of my students did!

 

For two weeks, I traveled over the river and beyond the city center to a small school called Chudo Chado. At first, I had no desire to travel so far on my Saturdays but the minute I met the students who were desperate to learn from a native speaker, I fell in love with them and their zeal. My second week there, we read a ghost story and for an activity, I asked them to create their own scary story. The result was impressive.

 

Almost all of them clapped their hands in glee before setting to work. I got stories about a megalodon (these are ten years old studying English as their second language), animatronics that kill kids at a pizza place, and this one--all about cupcakes.

 

Kate, the quiet girl who sits in the corner was the most excited about this writing assignment and she did not disappoint. Her story was of a young girl who had a birthday party where none of her friends came to celebrate. In response, the girl went to their houses, cut out their hearts, and put them in the cupcakes.

 

Brutal, sadistic, and so creative! After being in China for two years where the kids barely understood the idea of creativity and now being surrounded by kids who are not motivated at all and bored with everything they do, it was a breath of fresh air to see these kids create and think up these stories all by themselves... and have fun doing it! I was slightly disturbed but even more impressed by Kate and her story... and she inspired me to paint this macabre image.  

 

I've learned that I don't like drawing anything real or lifelike... Human hearts are hard! I tried a few times and then gave up on being realistic and I decided to create my interpretation of what a human heart looks like.

 

Enjoy the blood splatter...

 

Only 22 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

Sow

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Six months. It seems impossible, but somehow I have managed to continue living six months after my baby brother breathed his last breath. There were moments and even days when I didn't want to... Why would I want to live another 50 years with this pain and grief--this massive hole in my heart that could never possible begin to be filled? But somehow, I've managed... Because I know Jed wants me to.

 

Again, I use the present tense for a very special reason--because Jed is still with me, trying to help me, guide me, and comfort me even though I can't see him. And he shows himself to me in signs (you can scoff if you want... But those who have gone through any kind of deep, painful loss will know that our loved ones never leave us alone and are always reaching out to us in little ways that prick our hearts).

 

When people think of Jed, they might think of the color red (Red for Jed) or balloons or even feathers. When I think of him, I instantly think of acorns.

 

When he was a little boy, we gave Jed an acorn to help him overcome his fear of going to school. Again, we gave him an acorn the night before his surgery to give him courage--because mighty oaks from tiny acorns grow. It gave him the courage to walk into surgery and it gave him courage through the next two days where he fought frantically for his life... and he died with that damned acorn clutched tightly in his hand... I still have it.

 

So for me, it's an acorn.

 

I've permanently put an acorn on my body, hidden behind my ear. My early love for Peter Pan and the "kiss" he gives to Wendy soon became painfully ironic when I got my own hidden kiss the day Jed and I were supposed to go and get tattoos together.

 

 

Wherever I go, I search for acorns. Is it a sign from Jed? Not necessarily. But the minute I see one, I think of him and in my thoughts, he is there with me and sometimes that is enough.

 

On my honeymoon and in Russia

 

But sometimes, I do think it is a sign... like today.

 

After a rough day (the 8th will always be hard), and just ten minutes after I had painted these three acorns in memory of Jed, I was walking back to work. As I was walking, something orange caught my eye. It was a plastic acorn lying on the sidewalk. I stopped, turned around, and went back to pick it up. To me, THAT was a message from Jed. I've walked back and forth along that path for almost a month and a half now and never have I seen anything other than broken bottles and cigarette butts. Here, six months (almost to the minute) after Jed's passing from Here to There, and just a few minutes after I painted these acorns, I happen to walk directly over this plastic orange (Jed's favorite color) acorn.

 

I'm not a real believer in "You reap what you sow." Jed sowed so much good and got screwed over in my not so humble opinion. But it got me thinking today...

An acorn is a seed that can be sowed to make a mighty oak. Jed was that acorn. He never did become that mighty oak (Life never even gave him the chance). But he sowed and sowed and sowed GOOD into people. And if you sow enough, soon you can bring in a bountiful harvest. I think the good that Jed sowed in his laughter, his kindness, his goofiness, and his epic determination and stamina will be the greatest harvest any of us will ever have the privilege to see. For years--as long as people think of Jed, say his name, and remember how he made them feel--that harvest will continue to come in and the forest of mighty oaks that he planted in each of our hearts will continue to spread and grow.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn."  Jed was that little acorn. And we are his forest.

a.r.w.

 

 



Grow

i will not grow up

without dreams or adventure…

i will simply grow.

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

My grandfather used to have this saying: I will never grow up... I will simply grow.

 

I loved that saying. As I child, I was obsessed (and in love) with Peter Pan and the idea of staying a carefree child forever. I cried the eve of my 13th birthday and even more the day before I turned 18. I was terrified with the idea of growing up and getting old; no longer being the person I knew I was... always changing, with forced responsibilities, and clipped wings.

 

In the early years of my adulthood (which I know many of you will still say I'm in. For the sake of my post, let's say 19-22), I found myself trapped in the contemporary idea of what it means to be an adult. I had a job, responsibilities, I had to go to the doctor by myself, and I was becoming more and more cynical. It was after I worked at Disney World, that I realized that (as Walt says), imagination has no age and my imagination is one of the biggest and strongest parts of me. So I decided to embrace that and run with it!

 

If I want to wear my hair in pigtails, I do. Wear crazy colored tights? I'm on it. Doodle in my notebook? Yup. Watch a Disney movie? You bet! I still try to go through life believing in magic and the best in people...

 

Life is far to short to fit into the cookie cutter mold of what the world expects of you. It's exhausting and later in life you realize it was a waste of time! I'm glad I realized I can be me and still have people enjoy me as I am without matching up to what others want... I will never grow up! I will simply grow!

 

a.r.w.

Nothing

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

What do you fear most in life?

 

Some might say heights or flying, spiders or the darkness. Me? I fear Nothing.

 

Do you remember the movie The Neverending Story? The Nothing was the terrifying monster gobbling up Fantasia, the world of fantasy and dreams. I think that was a mighty powerful message for a kids movie because to this day I am still affected by it and I still fear Nothing.

 

To me, the Nothing is just that--a void of happiness, dreams, plans, actions, even life itself. It's the desire to just survive through life instead of thrive. Nothing is very much real to me and I have to try and fight it every day. I fight it by reading, by laughing, by dreaming, and creating something new here every day.

 

These three figures are the Nothing that haunt my mind. They feed on the very thought of them (so stop thinking about Nothing!) and once they take control of you, it's hard to fight them off... but it's possible... it's always possible to fill Nothing with a very great Something.

 

That's what I'm trying to do with this blog... Fill the Nothing and fight it too.

 

Plus I just wanted to paint something super spooky today! I hope you dream of Nothing tonight...

 

25 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

Drunken Dreams

drunken dreams have i

just to see your face again,

is that what it takes?

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Last night I had my first dream about Jed since I got married. Before then, I didn't have them too often but often enough to help me through the days, weeks, and months that passed after April 8th. I could tell the difference between regular dreams and visits where I know Jed sought me out to talk to me and spend time with me. But after I got married, not once did I see, hear, or feel Jed in any of my dreams.

 

Until last night.

 

It was short and he was there for only a moment. Piff the Magic Dragon (yes, from America's Got Talent) was doing a show for us and Jed was sitting in a chair beside me, his bald head covered in his blue knit cap I bought him (that's almost always how I see him). All I did was look over at him and ask him, "You really liked him, didn't you?" It was short and sweet and all I needed.

 

I started thinking why it was that I dreamt of Jed last night after all these weeks. What changed? What happened? I don't think it was a visit, just a regular dream where I got to see his face once more. After I thought about it, I came to the realization that I went to bed a bit tipsy last night (it was our teacher's day celebration at work and we had wine, laser tag, Georgian food, and more wine).

 

After Jed's death, I spent the next four months in a drunken haze. Not a day went by that I didn't drink alcohol at one point and many times I would polish off a bottle or two a night by myself. I'm not proud of that fact, but it helped to numb the pain a bit and at that point I didn't care what would be considered right or wrong... all I cared about was getting myself through the day. And in those drunken days, I dreamt of my brother so much more than my sober moments.

 

I'm not saying I'll return to my days of drinking heavily (at least not on a regular basis) but I do miss my dreams with my baby bro bro... so it was nice to have a quick chance to see his face again... even if it was just in my dreams...

 

a.r.w.