Photo by Moses Pendleton
Moses sent me another gorgeous shot of snow, which I will reveal at the bottom of this post, but first I thought I’d post a daffodil photo he took last spring, just to get you all out of your winter funk. I love the way you can see Moses and Cynthia’s house peeking out above the blooms in the top of the photo.
I spoke to Moses late last fall at a time when he was madly planting more daffodil bulbs. Thousands more. And, if you’ve hung around this blog a while, you know he already had quite a few already planted, so I imagine his field will be just a sea of yellow in a few short months. Here’s a short video that I took of Mr. Pendleton, last spring, surrounded by his beloved blooms, which had been planted in rows radiating out from a small glowing circle, like rays of the sun. Because I was using the Flipcam, and the video ended up being very shaky, it looked like it was being shot from the POV of the ax-murderer who had come to chop Moses into bits. So I added spooky music, which made the whole thing – well, I don’t like to use the word “masterpiece,” it’s thrown around so freely these days – but I think it’s fair to say that the film is a minor masterpiece, in the horror/thriller genre. You be the judge:
And now, here is the snow photo, as promised. Unlike the other photo, which was so erotic it seemed almost unprintable, the drifts in this photo have a simple sculptural beauty. So elegant, but I also find it rather whimsical, because I see that the wind or the elements have carved a little heart in that cold landscape. Thanks Moses.
Photo by Moses Pendleton
And last, but certainly not least, happy birthday to our precious daughter Devin. We love you, we admire you and we’re so very proud of you, dearest Dev. We carry you in our hearts, every minute, every day. xxoo
Oh, Ann, funny-gorgeous video. All those daffodils, wow, I cannot imagine what it must be like to stand in the hub of all that bright singing yellow!
I’m kinda freaking out right now, having an eerie moment of my own at the serendipity of this “ray” coincidence. Been struggling with a scene in a new story about two brothers. It’s taken months, but I just This Week arrived at the scene that I’ve needed to write, which was only made possible because I decided to name the older brother Ray. The story’s in 2nd person, so until recently the narrator didn’t have a name. I picked Ray because his brother is Ross & those named sounded good together, a very likely Texas couple of names/brothers. Then I decided to look up the meaning of Ray, because I think the names we give our characters are a way to tell more about the characters.
This story is full of references to light. The older brother uses the glow-in-the-dark stars on their bedroom ceiling as a jumping off place to tell his younger brother stories at bedtime, as a way to focus his younger brother’s gaze up into the “night sky” & imaginary worlds so that they can, together, escape the arguing coming from the parent’s room. So, when I looked at all the meanings for the name Ray, well, I knew I had the *exact* right name.
And then I was gifted with the scene that my story now revolves around, just as if that scene – based on Ray’s name – were the center point of light, the hub from which all the rays shoot out. Kind of like blind-your-eyes-bright-yellow daffodils channelling the reaching, warming light of the sun on a winter’s day.
Geez, I need Edit on these response thingys:
names instead of named
parents’ instead of parent’s
tell READERS more about the characters
You wouldn’t believe I actually get hired as a proofreader/copy editor, would you? Shhh, please don’t tell on me!
I love the way John Updike used patterns of color and light in this excerpt from a beautiful story he wrote called “After the Storm.”
“The room was radiant. Beyond the white mullions and the curtains of dotted swiss, pinned back with metal flowers painted white, the sky was undiluted blue. I thought, this morning has never occurred before, and I jubilantly felt myself to be on the prow of a ship cleaving the skyey ocean of time.
I turned my head away and looked through the window. In time, my father appeared in this window, an erect figure dark against the snow. His posture made no concession to the pull underfoot; upright he waded out through our yard and past the mailbox and up the hill until he was lost to my sight behind the trees of our orchard. The trees took white on their sun side. The two telephone wires diagonally cut the blank blue of the sky. The bare stone wall was a scumble of umber; my father’s footsteps thumbs of white in white. I knew what this scene was – a patch of Pennsylvania in 1947 – and yet I did not know, was in my softly fevered state mindlessly soaked in a rectangle of colored light. I burned to paint it, just like that, in its puzzle of glory; it came upon me that I must go to Nature disarmed of perspective and stretch myself like a large transparent canvas upon her in the hope that, my submission being perfect, the imprint of a beautiful and useful truth would be taken.”
This was meant to be in response to Denise’s comment.
“my father’s footsteps thumbs of white in white.” “puzzle of glory”
Thank you, again, Ann. It’s been so long since I’ve read “After the Storm,” I need to find it & dive in again. I remember when I read this the very first time – “stretch myself like a large transparent canvas upon her in the hope that, my submission being perfect, the imprint of a beautiful and useful truth would be taken” – I vowed to live my life, each moment, as such. I really needed a reminder of that long-ago intention.
Here’s to hoping that we’ll be blessed with imprints of the lovely & authentic ~
WOW, what a beautiful passage from Updike! Really love that. What stunning use of language — “skyey ocean of time,” “scumble of umber,” “thumbs of white in white.” So wonderful! And Denise, I enjoyed your post. Good luck with your story.
Thank you, Arliss – a mite of luck never hurts!
Ann and Moses, thank you for the beautiful yellow flowers. I needed to see some color this morning. We just received 5 inches of LOVELY snow last night/this morning. It just won’t go away!!! I just finished reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe with my class….”always winter and never Christmas.” I do believe the White Witch has something to do with this winter of ours.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEVIN!
My daughter is turning Sweet 16 tomorrow…my little baby! Sniff….sniff….
What beautifil daffodils~need to atleast run out & buy some for my diningroom table! I hope Devin has a Wonderful Birthday!
After viewing the “Field of Dreams” masterpiece, I watched “Psychedelic Sunday” starring Daphne and Holly. Truly skillful direction of the two ingenues, and the film’s score captures the mood.
Happy Birthday, Dear Devin! Enjoy your special day.
Ann and Moses thanks for the flowers. They made my day- really my winter. Spring will be here soon.
Happy Birthday Devin!
Wishing Devin a very happy birthday!
Very funny video, Ann, very “Blair Witch meets Moses.” Un petit chef d’oeuvre, c’est vrai!
Ann, I do like the “shaky-cam” effect in the video, which is obviously a precursor of your now-legendary “Ghost Girl” series of short films.
I got to watch “Psychodelic Sunday” and then the ‘fights’ between sweet Holly and super-pacient Ms. Lulu…. and I continue to say that your dogs are lucky and nice and cute and sweet and lovely (and lots of work) and joy to watch.
The daffodils are nice… and Moses loves daffodils. And thank you Moses and Ann for sharing with us. The snow went away just like that. We (California, Northern) missed out on the ‘monster storm’ that was announced and I do not mind…
And Ann, when you have time, do not forget to film more scarey stuff videos… I miss those… (since that one with the pony tails…)