Faerie Fae

janet-webb-french-still-life

French Still Life by Janet Webb

In the gloaming, children would flock to Thistleberry Farm, clutching jelly jars with punctured lids, to hunt for fireflies. The field, a flickering yellow-green sea of waist-high grass and wildflowers, was teeming with them.

One girl collected fireflies in a covered crystal jar. She believed they were Faeries. The other children, cruel little beasts, teased her relentlessly. They called her Fae, for “Faerie Girl”. But Fae, as she would forever be known, didn’t seem to mind.

Some people believe she became a Faerie herself when she died. They say, “She haunts the gloaming, Faerie Fae, dressed in eerie blue.”

~kat

99 Words for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers  Flash Fiction Challenge inspired by this photo by Janet Webb and Blue Ghost Fireflies*, a firefly found in the Southeast US that does not flicker but glows and eerie pale blue.

*From firefly.org:

blue-ghost-firefly

Blue Ghost Firefly

Phausis reticulata also known as blue ghost fireflies. These tiny fireflies are common throughout the southeastern US and are known as the “blue ghost” because they do not flash but glow with an eerie blue or green light. Females of the blue ghost are pale yellow or white in color and lack wings (right in photo below). Males do have wings and can fly (left in photo below). Since they have not be studied extensively little is still known about them and their habits


Cat Nipped


when the tree bough breaks
fledglings from nestings tumble
fly or be cat nipped

~kat

For Haiku Horizons Challenge, prompt word, Tree.


Witless

irate is the word
most comes to mind, not amusing,
your witless drivel

~kat

For Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge, prompt words: Irate & Amuse.


Sheol’s Depths


from Sheol’s dark depths
the sweat and tears of cursed souls
filled to brim longing

~kat

For TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge, prompt words Depth and Fill, inspired by TJ’s photo above. A Haiku Hub Event.


Arting and Humming  

My twins, coloring. ~kat

Mostly, I remember the smells…of linseed oil and turpentine, earthen clay and play dough. I can lose myself inside the lid of a fresh box of crayons. If I close my eyes I can imagine the sensation of finger paint, creamy cool between my fingers, and the sublime feeling of peeling elmer’s glue “skin” embossed with lines and creases from the palms of my hands. My introduction to art was a sensual, tactile experience.

Nowadays, I hum when I make art. I’m not sure why. It is not usually a recognizable tune; more like a droning purr of random notes. I suspect it is my left brain overflowing; bits of my soul released to be splashed onto a canvas, sculpted in clay, or scribbled on a page. I’ve been accused of being a bit crazy because of the humming. Or maybe it just drives others crazy because they can’t hear the music. All I do know, or am, at the very least, most certain of, is that art and music make me happy and touches the core of my being in ways that I can’t describe. So I hum and I art.

art by numbers
left-brain daubs inside the lines
magnum opus dreams
right-brain wild synapses
purr in rhapsody, the muse

~kat

For Colleen’s Taibun/Tanka Tuesday, prompt words Art and Music (Rhapsody).