Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Some time after the sun was extinguished...



 A little while ago, earlier this morning, we woke up, my husband not quite yet late for work (and me with a day off).  The covers seemed heavier than usual, in fact, there was a real pressure weighing on the bed.  But it was only some cloud that had slipped in around the window's edge, not to worry; it was easily brushed off onto the floor. 

   And then, as early as that, the first mistake of the day was made: the heavy curtains were drawn back from the window, and contrary to custom, the room was not illuminated.  No, rather, every last drop of light that had made up the gloom of the curtained room was sucked out, into the dark, dark day.  I guess that light is out there now rioting around somewhere, giving even more strength to the wind that is galloping about and grinding down the houses. 

    In Canada, snow may creep up around your windows, it may even cover your house, trapping you inside, but there is a limit to snow.  Cloud, on the other hand, is a substance that may go on farther than the imagination can stretch. 

   The rain is hissing on the window panes, and I guess I am alone now.  Even if my husband is not carried away to Norway or further by this wind, he has very little chance of being able to fight his way back to me through all of this cloud, I should think.  I would light the windows with candles, or make a big glowing, warm hearth fire to guide him back to me, but we've burned all our wood, all our candles.  I think the best course of action is to hide myself away in a heap of blankets and hot water bottles.  It's true that I will most likely meet my end smothered by my own accumulated clouds of breath, which help all this cloud to grow at a terrible rate, but I will scrawl out some  pictographs in case my resting place is uncovered one day.

  But for this long stretch of grey days, I would have posted a painting here, which I finished some time ago.  Instead I'll leave you with a page from a little sketchbook of remembered dreams I've been working on for the Sketchbook Project, which I was lucky and won entry into over on the Pikaland blog.




   May God preserve you from unending cloud.

7 comments:

  1. Oh dear, does sound dismal to meet your end under blankets you've pulled over you yourself.... I wonder if you could do some weather magic by drawing a glowing hearth to guide your husband home - like Harold and the Purple Crayon - then draw old man wind sucking up the clouds and spitting them out over the sea. Might work, you're definitely got magic in your hands!

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  2. ohhh, i'm sending light over to you *right now*. feel it yet? if not, i agree with valerianna. see comment above :)
    only you could make something so dismal sound so beautiful in words :) is norway the next possible destination?

    the sketch is such a cool rendering! i love it! i will be hopping over there, hoping to see the rest...

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  3. Valierianna,

    Oh no, I don't mess with the weather! One day my brother and I did a laughing snow dance out in the street in front of our house in hopes that we'd not have to go to school the next day... and we didn't go to school for a long time after that. Toronto's mayor called in the military to shovel snow. So you know, while I'm sure I have no effect on the weather, it still seems like something best not thought about too much!

    Thanks Joel!!

    Zoe,

    I've seriously got hail coming into the room through the chimney right now! Oh well.
    I'd love to go to Norway, but I have no plans for there at the moment. I just sort of figured that there was a good chance he'd turn up there since it's just across the water. (A similar thing happened to a lady called Betty Mouat in the 1800s... well, she was in a drifting boat.)

    As for the sketchbook, the whole thing should be up there early in 2012. I'll post about it again once it's up!

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  4. You'll write a masterpiece of a book there between blankets and hot water bottles and howling chimney !

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  5. These last couple of days have been hard days for other people too (A misalignment of the stars?) A friend had to put down her beloved 15 year old cat yesterday, my boss had to put down her golden lab Friday, another one spent the weekend fighting a terrible attack of the blues, I was sick over the weekend and am still under the weather. Real truth to the expression "being under a cloud." Right now the old Simon and Garfunkel song "Cloudy" is running through my mind, "Cloudy, the sky is grey and dark and cloudy" with its refrain -- "hey, sunshine, I haven't seen you for a long time."

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  6. When I lived under perpetual grey clouds I longed for the blue sky now I live under perpetual blue sky I love the grey days - today was one. I think the greyness of some days stretch the imagination that little bit farther somehow.

    Looking forward to seeing and hearing more about your part in the sketchbook project...

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