A beautiful moon hung low over the Golden Triangle last week. It seemed to stay full for days, peeking into my kitchen window, illuminating the tangled wisteria vines that twist like snakes from the arbor to the old pecan tree in our back yard.
It was a “wishing moon,” a time when our guardian angels and spirit guides are closer to the earth. Make your wishes when the moon is full. They may be granted.
I see much of the moon these nights. I have become nocturnal. Sleep eludes me. I desire it and certainly become drowsy. But, alas, as soon as I lay my head against the pillow, my mind races, and my eyes refuse to stay shut.
I suppose this is a bad thing for those who must be somewhere in the mornings. However, I do not, and have turned these into hours of great productivity. The phone does not ring. The house is mostly silent, except for the unseen creatures that rattle my walls and scurry across the ceiling. They, too, are nocturnal.
I am working on some art cards for next month’s “Postcards to Columbus” show at the Renee Reedy Studio. Each 4-by-6-inch canvas is a sort of meditation. Such small space demands a critical eye and the ability to edit ideas. This is much like writing, learning to eliminate the superfluous details. Yet, in no way can my cards be considered “minimalist.” Some are complex collages. I have been using many of the vintage buttons brought to me by my friend, Betty Miller. She salvaged them from a dry cleaner, long since out of business. Feathers, beads and ephemera — elements that have lived another life — merge with the buttons in odd harmonies.
I look forward to seeing what other artists do with this tiny surface. There is still time to submit. Check out randomactsofculture.biz for details.
On warm, dry nights I go onto the back porch to spray paint some bottles I am decorating. They are a sort of “I dream of Jeannie” meets Vodou spirit bottles. Once again, a blending of unlike things. Thank you, Mary Broussard, for the empty wine and liqueur bottles. You may not recognize them when next you see them.
I am amazed to hear birds singing throughout the night. Do we have nightingales in our area?
I am also amazed that many local stores do not carry gold and silver spray paint. Evidently there is a good reason that we are able to buy pastels and bright hues in a spray can, but not metallic colors.
Oh, I also waste some time waiting for my paint to dry. I am addicted to the Turner Classic Movie channel. The plots may be a bit clichéd and predictable, but, oh, those costumes!
My favorites are from the 1930s and ’40s, when no respectable lady left the house without her hat. I should probably have been alive in those days because I looove hats. My friend, Miss Moonpie, is bringing chapeaus back into style. She is a milliner par excellence, and knows how to frame a face with feathers and a bit of tulle. So flattering!
I feel a little guilty watching my neighbors leave for work in the morning, and slightly decadent, too, knowing I have not yet been to bed. I have the luxury of sleeping in the daytime. Perhaps I earned it, having worked so hard for many years. Don’t envy me. But, please do not call me in the morning. By then I will be sleeping.
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina. Email reaches her at [email protected].
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina.
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