Art Made Perfect

We have a framed print hanging on the first landing in our foyer. It's one I have always liked from the moment I saw it. When I saw it; I knew I had to have it.

It is slim and long, just right for the space.

The name of the painting is "Posting a Letter" and was painted by Albert Ludovici, 1850-1932.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Imagine how impressed I was day before yesterday when the painting was suddenly improved.

Husband came in the kitchen with a more than usual perplexed look on his face. "Have you ever noticed - " he started. "Never mind. It's a visual. Come with me."

He took me to stand at the stairs and look up at the painting. Imagine my surprise when I saw a foggy, white, harvest moon shimmering up in the middle of the painting's sky.

It was beautiful.

Husband said, "I thought to myself 'how could I have never noticed that beautiful moon in the painting before?' ." (We've had it over 25 years). "It's so perfect."

Then he had gone to stand in front of the painting to get a better look, and the moon disappeared.

It was light from the sun, somehow casting a perfect moon through one of our windows.

We don't think it had ever done that before.

And let me tell you, the harvest moon had all the darks and  lights you can see on the moon when it is large and bright.

We stood there and watched it move slowly across the painted sky.

Just like a real moon.

And now, of course, when I look at "Posting a Letter", something seems to be missing from it. That dreamy, hazy, milky harvest moon made the painting perfect.

Life imitating art.

Or was it the other way 'round?

Conjured Up

As most ya'll know, I am working on my sixth book.

This book is told in first person by a nine year old little girl.

Now, the more I write, the more real she becomes. I know a lot about her, more about her than you ever will, even if you read the book.

Because you can't put someone's whole life, their whole self between the covers of a book.

I believe if you have a character in a book who seems real to the person reading, then that character must be fully born, not a cardboard cutout.

For instance, I know she has an inny, not an outy. I know she doesn't like  her chin, but it isn't something she talks about to anyone for fear of hurting someone's feelings. I know she hates to pee at someone else's house, but is too polite to say so.

None of those things are in the book. But they are there, because that's a part of who she is.

I know how she turns out all grown up, more or less, but the book ends at the beginning of her tenth  year.

If you are a writer, you know exactly what I mean, you get it.

If you are not, you are pretty sure I'm just as crazy as you suspected.

I have people look at me and shake their heads, saying they can't even imagine what I'm talking about - characters in my head, not knowing what they might do in the next chapter, behaving in a way you don't expect them to.

I think they half admire me and half feel relief that they aren't that way at all.

So, the next time you pick up a book, think about the author for just a moment.

That's their baby you're holding in your  hands.