DadadaDA!! I finished my painting. Woo hoo! Yay! A painting I realize has very little to do with "spooky" -- then I remembered painting The Ghost of Dibble Hollow, so I'm clearly completely legit about following the word for the week :)
There's a lot I could say about this painting, but I'm curious about what you think of it without anymore explanation than I've already given. I've even got another painting or 2 in mind that will follow similar themes. Hopefully they won't take years to complete!
As for "spooky", when we were kids, Sis2 and her friends played "Who's Afraid of Bloody Mary?" They took turns locking each other in a closet and scaring themselves silly. I got shoved into the closet for a turn too. I reluctantly said the words 3x and felt torn between terror and healthy skepticism.
The other girls wouldn't let me out. As the youngest, they thought they could get me to scream the loudest, and they kept me incarcerated for a very long time. I amused myself by examining the contents of the closet by candlelight. By the time I was allowed out, I'd lost most of my fear and come to the decision that the girls weren't really playing, they were just cruel.
The girls thought I lacked the proper attitude for play. Maybe? My 5-year-old self felt pretty sure about my conclusions though. I told a school friend about the torture test and she agreed with me. We polled our other playmates and everyone agreed, with an observation that most older siblings are mean. We were sensitive middle children.
This experience oddly turned into a life-long interest in collecting other people's ghost stories -- not fake stories intended to frighten, but real stories. It started that day on the playground when 2 of my classmates shared their experiences. We were all awed and wondered together about the nature of reality and the afterlife. I remain charmed by the unknown and magic in life.
My grandma died suddenly when I was in my 20s. I still hadn't gotten my mind wrapped around this new reality on the day of the funeral. My unusually well-dressed family picked up Grandpa at his house and loaded up the car. Mom sent me back in to make sure the back door was locked. It was. With my mind on getting to the funeral home, I went through the kitchen, dining room...
"Linda.", Grandma said from the kitchen.
I turned around expecting to see her. Empty air in the arch between the 2 rooms. Uh?
I didn't want to move. Didn't want to break whatever just happened. Mom tooted the horn, and I got in the car for a funeral I didn't want to attend.
For an extra oddity, Mom told me the same thing happened to Grandma when her grandma died. She was playing piano and she heard "Laura." That's it, nothing more. I'm grateful Grandma said goodbye.
As for last week's rambling about giving kids candy on Halloween, Paula at Mindful Drawing shared a practice in Ireland of giving stickers out. I think that's a great idea :)