Last week Princess Girl’s grandmother gave us a gorgeous print for our living room. The frame and matting are gold, cream and lavender. The picture. Wow. Ivy vines and a hand full of flowers fill an arbor over a long dirt path. The perspective within the picture makes the viewer feel as though that path goes on forever under those vines. The colors of both the picture and frame are perfectly suited to my living room. They could have been custom made for it. The minute I saw the picture I knew exactly where it belonged in my home.
I haven’t yet been brave enough to tackle hanging it by myself. The frame is probably 2’ x 3’. The whole thing must weigh 20 pounds. In the mean time I have set it on a decorative bench just below where it will hang. And I was right. It looks perfect there.
Later the same day that I placed the picture in the living room I was playing “what if” in search of writing topics. Writers live by the question what if. What if a meteor fell from the sky? What if the person next to me on the subway is <insert famous person here>? What if… This is where stories begin. The writer wonders what if and their answers to that question and the questions that follow become their tale.
During that brainstorming session I thought of several what if questions I would like to answer in the near future. One of those questions was what if someone (or several someones) came out of the picture I so recently put in my living room. What kind of people would they be? Why were they in the picture? Why did they come out? The story-line possibilities are endless. I’m almost too intimidated to start writing. What if I don’t do the stories justice?
That brainstorming session was last weekend. There has been so much going on this week that I haven’t begun writing on any of the ideas generated. What I have done is completely freak myself out. Every time I walk through the living room I see that picture out of the corner of my eye. At least once a day I stop dead in my tracks and quickly look at the picture full on. You know, I swear I saw something moving over there. Really. I did. At least once a day.
I have tried to convince myself it is all in my imagination. Or maybe what I saw was simply a reflection in the glass of the frame. Mostly I believe these rationalizations. Mostly. But, what if people really are living in my new picture? Who are they? Why are they in there? Are they coming out? Did I cause that shift? Did the act of thinking about people living in this particular picture cause it to be true? I have yet to see any clear evidence to either way.
If there are people coming out of the picture in my living room I hope they come in peace.