sunflowers...

the night was spent with the distinctive snipping of metal blades against thick colorful paper sheets, the dusty fan whirring in the background, remembering the days of yore when was younger and quite the idiot at art. no, never ever had the knack of anything with art and craft, be it oils and pastels, colors and gradients, or sculpture of any sort. mommy was and still is the one with the magic fingers when it comes to art, little wonder why the emergency panic call for "mommy... art homework" was always in use like an emergency room blue code.

without fail, there she will be, having a look see at the art project at hand, hmming, humming and hawing, before that moment of "eureka" hits her. from there, it would then be pretty much be like mad scientist at work in the poetic creation of frankenstein, where only the arty farty kind with similar sublime creativity juices would sense and comprehend.

old age has caught up, but mommy certainly has not lost her artistic flair, though the speed has most definitely slowed at her craft. somehow, that diminished speed, that do know is a cause from swollen and painful joints, made me stop in my footsteps. and so, it was my turn to sit down at the makeshift art table, scuffle around the motley mess, trying to make some sense of her mumbled instructions at what she needed help with.

quite a cute turnaround it has become. although changed somewhat, yet, the pattern somehow does not quite switch. strangely enough, there is comfort in this little familiarity, especially when daddy comes shuffling out in his bedtime socks and bedroom slippers, munching through a light bedtime snack of peanuts, poking his nose about before walking off like the passerby figure, offering no help, just as he would back then.

as if back in those days, sitting alone at the makeshift art table of the day, with an undusted fan whirring in the background, the lone soul cuts out gaudy looking sunflower petals from compressed paper sheet stacks, meticulously sticking those petals there after onto checkered pattern paper bodies carefully weaved from before with the good old handy glue stick, endlessly through the vampire hours of the night. only this time around, instead of being the one chased off to bed, she was the one sent to meet the sandman for midnight supper. this time, ain't rushing for the crazy deadline of morrow doing my own art assignment, but rather, mommy's "art homework". perhaps, probably, this is payback. in all honesty, can only say it is a fair trade, though seriously, sunflowers really ain't my thing.