Are Holidays blurring together or am I just seeing Double?

"Kayla" enjoying her squash, surrounded by pumpkins.

I recently got an announcement for a Christmas project and I haven’t even planned for Halloween and Thanksgiving. Do you ever see your life just whizzing past; the constant hubbub of what to buy and when turning your calendar pages into an animated blur?

Of course, it’s necessary to plan ahead. But why can’t we ever just enjoy the moment. Writers and artists especially must work six months in advance; so must retail markets to stock their shelves and plan their staff far in advance of any sales.

September is “back to school” and the harvest season. Fall leaves and apples dot advertising pages. Halloween and Thanksgiving appear on the same shelves and eventually get crowded out by the upcoming Christmas Season.

"Americana" 16 x 20 acrylic on canvas in barn wood frame

But who am I to deny pleasure and profit to anyone? If I’m slow to get on board or always playing catch-up, I have only myself to blame. It does seem that we hurry from one event to another with little time to enjoy the moment.

When my boys were young, they spent every summer building a spook alley in our basement. They created crawl through tubes out of blankets and boxes. They placed dishes of slimy spaghetti in strategic places, and used flashlights to transfigure innocent faces into ghoulish creatures. What else they did is best left to the imagination.

I wasn’t small enough to crawl through their maize, but they were convinced that each year’s spook alley was better and scarier than the last. The Ring Leader of each year’s project was the “King of Creep,” my son, Sid. He had decorated his own bedroom with the remains of cicada shells pinned to his cork ceiling tiles; would that I could fall asleep under such crunchy canopy.

"Sand crane's Dreams" 18 x 24 mixed media on canvas

What is it about being scared and horrified that people love? I’m a wuss when it comes to horror films. I’d rather not see them. But when I was a child, I reveled with everyone else as mummies and zombies crept from under slime and out of caves to attack our heroes. We screamed with delight and shuddered with fear; the scarier the better.

Maybe it’s an age thing or the “feminization” of our culture. Today on Halloween we see cute little carved pumpkins with grins and missing teeth. Costumes, along with the usual array of goblins and witches, come in a range of harmless monsters like Shrek and Casper.

Of course, zombies have made a comeback. Zombie festivals are making waves throughout the country. Adults who felt deprived in their youth for having missed those early horror films are the first to don a costume and bloody make-up for the thrill of parading down the streets in hopes of scaring someone.

"Raccoons at Sunrise" 16 x 20 acrylic on canvas in barn wood frame

Now is the time to gather together your ideas for crude cards and pitiful paintings to celebrate the season. Black is in and pastels are out. The Season was originally devised to scare evil back into hell. It was called “All Saints Eve.” It was not a day to celebrate evil, but to put it back in its place.

If we’re lucky, perhaps we can make it a day and evening of harmless fun. When did the evil pranks begin, the putting of razor blades into apples, and the destruction of property and people? Keep your kids safe and enjoy the day. Use your art creatively to scare and frighten, but do it wisely and in good conscience.

Featured Artist:
Shijun Munns from Atlanta, Georgia. Here is a link to her post: https://www.facebook.com/artshijun   Followed by her painting: "Blue Boat in the Bay"

The Gifts that Keep on Giving

During a difficult period in my life, my friend Alice gave me a prayer plant. “It will remind you of where your strength comes from,” she said. Sure enough, every evening as the sun went down, the prayer plant extended its leaves upward. I was reminded to turn to God more often, and I also remembered my friend.

When a move across country forced me to leave the plant behind, I photographed it. Sometime later, I created an oil painting of the plant sitting beside a garden glove and a trowel. The painting still hangs in my kitchen. Whenever I look at it, I remember my friend and her reminder to reach up in times of need. Her priceless gift of love was simple and inexpensive, but never forgotten.

With the approach of Thanksgiving, my thoughts turn once again to the gift giving season. If you’re like me, you’re already worrying about money, and how you’re going to buy school supplies and gifts. Expectations are high and everyone from the postman, your child’s teacher, your coworkers, your church friends and neighbors ends up on your shopping list.

One low-budget year, I gave my friends a small Christmas cactus. The plants were only $1.50 each; some even had blooms. A couple women accepted their plant reluctantly, complaining that they didn’t have any luck with plants; the rest accepted their gift graciously and seemed to be pleased.

Over the next few years, I was surprised by their reactions. Each time I saw one of these women, she always gave me an update on the status of her plant. When I visited in their homes, I was shown how well their plants were doing. Some struggled to keep their plants growing just for me. Eventually most if not all of the plants bloomed. As the women cared for their plants, they remembered my gift. The perky green cactus became a symbol of our friendship, and a gift of love that kept on giving.

We don’t all have green thumbs like my mother. She had the largest, healthiest plants in the neighborhood. Her African violets were the envy of many. My dad was equally talented and had the most prolific raspberry bushes, peas and tomatoes around.

My former father-in-law was well-known for his garden and for his love of plants. When you walked into his home, you entered a jungle. Wandering Jews, philodendrons and ivy wrapped around the room and crawled over and under the other plants. When a grandchild skinned a knee or got sunburned, grandma quickly broke off a leaf from one of grandpa’s nearby Aloe Vera plants. The soothing gel washed over their pain and tiny tears were wiped away.

He had a wonderful garden as well. Neighbors, relatives and friends were recipients of his beautiful Shasta Daisies, iris and gladioli bulbs. These gifts of love became living connections between the people that came in and out of his life.

If you’re not into plants, there are other ways to share your talents and your love. My 97 year old friend Dorothy bakes bread and cakes for those she loves. She called me the other day and thanked me for sending her one of my thank you cards.

Since I’m an artist, I turn my drawings of birds and animals into greeting cards and add ribbons and feathers for color. Other cards are created by printing copies of original paintings. Dorothy told me she had 11 different cards from me lined up in front of her. “Every time I look at them,” she said, “I think of you.”

Another elderly friend complained when I’d forgotten her birthday: “I missed getting one of your beautiful cards,” she said. I didn’t realize how much my inexpensive gifts of love had meant. There have been many recipients of my cards over the years. It is my way of telling people that they’re worth the extra time it takes to create a personal card and message just for them.

Carol’s drawings and paintings are on her gallery at http://carol-allen-anfinsen.artistwebsites.com/  and http://Etsy.com/AnfinsenArt