Image source: Merlina McGovern
Yes! I did it! I made it across the final Inktober finish line. I may not be out of breath, and my legs aren’t cramping up something fierce, but my creative well is dry. I’m mentally exhausted, and I’m ready to take a break from sketching for a while.
Today’s final prompt was Fire. I wanted to spend more time inking in the mesmerizing shadows and licks of flame from the fire, but see the above paragraph about being mentally exhausted.
Why does fire mesmerize us? I can stare into a roaring fire for hours and hours. Is it because it lights up the darkness around us? Is it because it is a weapon we can use to protect us from what is hiding in the dark? Is it because its heat warms us when it’s cold and cooks our food so that it won’t kill us?
I don’t know why fire, such a dangerous and burning thing, has the power to compel our attention, but I do have so many fond memories of spinning campfire tales around roaring bonfires. We used to camp every fall in New Hampshire, and my husband would buy Magical Flames powder that we’d throw into the fire and then sit back and watch as the flames transmuted into sparks of blue, yellow, and green.
The sound of that magical, crackling fire was enough to gather us around and feel omnipotent and awestruck in the face of pitch-black autumn night.
We haven’t been camping in a while, but we have a lovely backyard set up, complete with a smokeless Solo stove. Now, our town has ordinances against burning fires in your backyard unless it is for cooking, but authorities all looked the other way during the pandemic. Small, smokeless fires popped up everywhere as families gathered around these stoves seeking comfort from the pandemic blazing all around us. As long as you kept a packet of hot dogs and s’mores ingredients by your stove, you’d be in the clear (that is, if you didn’t have persnickety neighbors who were keen to turn you in for any violation under the sun).
These little fires were enough to let us feel warmth and comfort in the small groups of people we were allowed to have gathered around us. It was a literal and metaphorical light against the dark, and we took comfort in it when there was no comfort to be found in the outside world.
And now, the little candle fires light our pumpkins, gathering little spooks, and ghouls, and ghosts to our doorstep, bringing light and candy to the children in our neighborhood.
Happy Halloween!
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