My preferred season of the year is Spring. My preferred month is September. They are both gone this year and, while bracing for winter (in all admiration for the chromatic warmth of autumn), I have to deal with Halloween, to honor All Saints Day, to remember the departed, drinking nostalgia from a cup not exactly fitting me right now. But, as the say goes, let the worst moments of our lives be no less than these. Oh wait, what am I doing here? No intention to complain, to wail, no!! I still know how to wrap a worry in happiness, I still dream of a yoga-spanking moment (for the perfect orgasm). But with: twins consuming their October vacation at home, with journeys to dad’s (and in-laws) graves, with a mom needing more support and hope than ever, with this cold sunshine forcing me to wear something when gardening, and with the gas bill, it’s just a bit obvious that my next (and first) yoga-spanking moment has to be postponed over to some realm of fantasy.
Finding great comfort in hubby, reading love letters from friends, staring at my photo shots, my spirit knows that peace of mind will certainly steal an hour or two from the pre-holiday fever. Stress is our worst enemy and looking back to the industrial urban landscape that consumed our parents isn’t helping.
But it’s Halloween and playful young ones wish to trick or treat (having no past to treat anyway). Thus here I am, corseted and crinolined, playing a white witch, or a good fairy, charming seven stuffed fruits and veggies, ending with the eighth true pumpkin, and stripping off for you.
The branches of the evergreen have been restless for many days now – a telltale of the approaching Northern winds. The night arrives even earlier and the morning won’t catch up enough – until next year. The cold season clothes are making piles in the house. Most hated piles! This piling up of stuff, past and future, that we don’t need but is being forced on us by the elements, habits and rituals — dealing with all this probably makes for better minutes of nudity, of liberation. On Halloween, our body hides from cold while our soul seeks for nostalgia. Just as the leaves of orange becoming one with the ground. Nevertheless, like enduring trees, our negentropic organisms will rise again with Easter.
The witch in black with pointy hat riding her broom? Not my type. However, if I have to play a witch, how about a white witch? Or a fairy. I could deal with that… A shameless fairy actually. Charming those little fruits… Happy Halloween!!