Two-Fer

You get two art-prompt postings today because I was just too lazy to knuckle down last night and write. So I took my notebook and the two little squares of art out to the patio this morning and wrote in the shade of my new patio umbrella. Sitting out there to write is a surefire way to inspiration: the soft early morning air, a cup of fragrant coffee, the warming sun, and the "hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!" of the wren parents feeding their chicks all combine to put me in the mood to be creative. I love it.

June 15--Fra Angelico, The Thebaid. It was like a carnival of hermits. The mountainside outside of Thebes was littered, almost choked, with the huts and caves of holy men willing to tell a person's future or interpret their fate for a few pennies or a scrap of food. My favorite was the one in the center about halfway up. His name was Joachim and he never spoke, just handed you your fortune on a narrow strip of paper. When I knew that I would be climbing up his way I tucked a handbill or some other piece of used paper into my pocket to give to him. He was happy to use the blank back and I enjoyed seeing what part of an ad or public notice decorated the back of my fortune. Joachim was also cleaner than other hermits. Many of the others seemed to believe that cleanliness was sinful but Joachim evidently understood that being clean brought more visitors and , therefore, more food and paper. I think the Pope should have made Joachim the patron saint of marketing.

Silly, but interesting.

June 16--Edouard Manet, Autumn (Mery Laurent). She looks padded, Ed thought when he picked Mery up for their date. Not padded like a padded bra, but thick like she was wearing two or even three sets of clothing. Sweaters over sweaters and skirts over skirts over skirts. Her head with its coppery hair and porcelain skin looked small perched on top of a too generous body. Don't misjudge Ed, he liked a woman with a generous body. He had never been attracted to those skin-covered skeletons with their nonexistent boobs and their blades of hips. He wanted a woman he could sink into, one he could fill his arms and hands and mouth with. Mery was beautiful, yes, but was she trying to fool him with a lush appearance? Trying to lure him into loving her? Mery looked across the table at Ed frowning and wondered what had upset him. "Is your fish bad?" she asked. "It's fine." He pulled out his pocket watch. "We need to go. Waiter, the check." Shocked Mery put her fork down on her unfinished supper and picked up her purse.

Ed, you wacko.

Not bad for a morning's scribbles.
--Barbara