So! I belong to a small group at our church that’s experimenting with using art of all kinds as inspiration for making space for God or spirituality in our lives. A suggested activity is to contemplate the piece of art and then write about it.
The first picture grabbed my attention, actually it grabbed my attention 30 years ago the first time I went through this class, but I didn’t write about it then. So when I sat down to write about it this time I had a bit of a surprise. I THOUGHT I was writing just a little story, but on rereading it I realized it was something much different.
Just for kicks I’m going to post the picture here and see if anyone is interested in writing about what they see. Then in a couple days I’ll post what I wrote… No worries if this doesn’t draw a crowd. I’m just kind of curious what others would say about the picture — whether they saw it in anyway as I THOUGHT I did. If you don’t want to write a “story”, you can just leave a comment with your thoughts.
The picture is “Bent Figure of a Woman” by Vincent Van Gogh.
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Picture Source: Pinterest
Impromptu Promptlings 
Pingback: The model: A response to – Amanuensis Sobriquet-Reverie
A moment of depression.
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That’s a good thought. Kind of links all the ideas together, doesn’t it…
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Looks like loss to me. Is she in mourning?
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No clue. This particular picture is known by several other name: Woman Seated, Woman Mourning… It is thought to be a portrait of his mistress Sien. He had a rather annoying habit of name several pictures with the same name.
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What a sad picture. She looks worn down by waiting for news, but unable to move for fear of missing it.
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Obviously since you and I discussed this one during our last phone conversation I’m not going to participate….but I’d love to with the next one…maybe if there’s interest, you can ‘invite’ us along on your Thursday groups?!? Share it with us a few days prior and then you can always ‘bring’ along our interpretations to share with your group..I know I’d love to give it s go?!?!?
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Failed again. My English teacher asked me what the author was trying to say in the short story. I said he was lamenting his dead tree in the yard after the storm tore it to bits. She said he was talking about his lost love. How the h— does she know? Did she ask him? Does she know him? He’s been dead for 100 years for pity’s sake. So we got into it and now I am waiting to see the Principal. Story of my life. Does she know what I am thinking right now?
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LOL! I totally missed your comment, Denise. Thanks for pointing it out! I get what you’re saying. I’m with you. I’ve always been unable to see things as other people interpret them. Especially with poetry. That’s why this was such a surprise. I’ve never written something with two different themes. Do you like to write and play around with prompts?
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Hello my friend! Hadn’t seen or heard from you for a bit, and I was getting concerned, so I figured I better pop over here and check on you. Hope all is well! Hugs!
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Howdy, pardnerette! We were in Maryland for a wedding for a week. It’s taken me two weeks to catch up with myself! I think I’m finally back in the loop! Thanks for checking. That was sweet of you. 🙂
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I care about my friends … and you are definitely a friend! I hear you about getting caught up, though … I am still playing ‘catch up’ from a month-long battle with pneumonia. Glad all is well … good to see you!!!
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Ditto, girl! 😀
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Tired, weary, and sleepy, Cora sat in an uncomfortable chair at the top of the stairs where she could keep an eye on the front entrance as well as have an ear tuned to hear any disturbance from the children’s upstairs bedrooms. Suddenly alert to sounds of whispers on the front porch……
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Oh! Sounds like a mystery, Oneta!
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Melisande was in pain again.
It wasn’t the severe, skull-cracking pain that had stolen her husband away. No. It was something more insidious. Something more permanent. Something she had to live with every day.
She had thought that sitting by his grave would free her from the pain and let her grief take over. But sitting on the ground in that style dress had simply given her back and neck pain that she had no interest in acquiring.
So, she had brought one of her late Great Grenadine’s cushioned parlor chairs and her late husband’s ottoman to the grave site. That had taken care of the back and neck pain.
But the pain deep inside her chest had lingered on.
She leaned her face against her hand and thought of him.
She thought of how much she missed him.
The pain lingered on.
Melisande was in pain again and there seemed to be no way to rid herself of it.
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Interesting! I couldn’t make up my mind what that was she was sitting beside. Never would have thought of that!
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