The Sun: Picture Window

A Snapshot of Childhood's Joy

BEFORE YOU READ, START THE MUSIC. THIS SONG IS DEFINITELY A SOUNDTRACK FOR CHARLOTTE’S STORY.

Ten of Pentacles

Charlotte Dumar, Present Day

A thin, stiff-bristled paint brush gently touched the canvas, placing a soft, earthy green pigment onto the self-portrait Charlotte Dumar started working on this morning. The portrait she intended to create put her abstract self in a beautiful, lush grove of mountain pine trees in the forest near her home of nearly twenty years. After her career in the limelight of the art world, she retired to a quiet corner of the world – a large, homey cabin in a small mountain community on the edge of Sierra Nevada National Park. She had everything she needed, most importantly privacy and solitude. Her favorite interior room in her cabin was her studio, but her patio was her place of peace and relaxation. She also set up a studio here because the serene view of the forest and its infinite wonder sparked her creativity – birds chirped, soft wind kissed her face, and busy city life was a far, far away.

Charlotte chose this location to paint her self-portrait. She often threw splashes of unusual color palettes into her natural settings, adding in alternative representations of animals and humans alike – it often looked as if she created her own style – between classical and abstract, throwing in mythical as well, for good measure; floating somewhere in between depending on her mood. Today, she reflected on her life – the rebellious art career that allowed her to go her own way. A life of creative self-exploration on her own terms.

This morning’s portrait featured a loose grove of pine trees at the edge of the forest with the mythical Pan (Charlotte) standing in the center. She felt like Pan today, immersed in her own wild imagination. Even at her older age, her younger spirit always took hold in these moments.  He held panpipes up to his mouth, luring the nymphs to his realm with its sweet music. Nymph faces peeked through the edge of the forest into the grove, curiosity in their eyes. She was working on the faces in the portrait – getting the feral eyes exactly right, dotting pupils with bright, unnatural color, as was her way. Pan was more challenging - his goat legs, horn, and tail needed to have a magical quality to him. This is where the flow of his panpipe magic brought in the play of color. He creates a swirl of music around him, expanding into the surrounding trees – a explosion of fire circling in fierce reds, oranges, blues, and yellows in thin tendrils weaving through the tree branches. The portrait, when finished, looked like a shadowy, muted green forest of pines with unnatural bright color transforming the scene into pure magic. There was something missing, though. Upon reflection, she added several young nymphs emerging from behind the trees eager to join Pan in in sweet musical spell.

She left the portrait out to dry in the mountain air on the patio and walked into her cabin for a short break before her starting her next project. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, gave thanks to the Universe, and prepared to write about her favorite childhood memory. She always possessed an overactive imagination, to which she credits her artistic vision - but it was Mama who always encouraged Charlotte to use her imagination when she was young.

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Six of Cups

Charlotte, 9 years old, 1953

Up

Charlotte’s loose, long brown flew behind her head as if a fan blew directly on her face. Her closed eyes and flip-floppy stomach gave a pleasant dizzy sensation as the swing rose high into the air. She opened her eyes when she rose to the highest height the swing would go to see nothing but blue and white fluffy cumulus clouds making shapes in the sky just for her.

Down

She squeezed her eyes shut as she fell backwards, holding tight to the chains on the swing as her hair flew in her face. As the swing fell back and up, she opened her eyes to see the ground below her. The swing hang in the air for the briefest moment, causing her stomach to feel flip-floppy again.

Up

Legs pumping for more momentum the swing went higher than ever, hanging in the air before it dropped again. She’s been practicing the Swing Olympics all summer so she could earn the gold medal when she returned to school, dreaming she could spin all the way around to the other side. The other kids were competitive, and she had to be ready.

Slowing Down

As the swing fell, she dragged her feet down into the grass to slow down and stop. Today’s practice went well, and she is almost ready to return to school with the highest swing on the playground.

After the swing fully stopped, Charlotte walked to the middle of the backyard to catch her breath. She wears her favorite broken-in jeans, scuffed converse shoes she uses to play outside, and a pink t-shirt with a rainbow graphic on it. Stains of grass on her clothes from climbing and playing permanently marred her clothes, but as long as she only used those clothes to play outside, Mama didn’t mind. She kept her school and church clothes free of grass stains or else she would never hear the end of it from Papa.

A large picnic blanket set out held her favorite thing in the world – her dolly Maddy, surrounded by the tea party set with a picnic basket. Mama lets her eat snacks outside as long as she picks up any dropped food. She pours “tea” into the cups for Maddy and herself, also serving saltine crackers as their “cake”.

“Maddy, drink your tea and eat your cake. We are expecting guests soon,” Charlotte instructed her doll. The animals would be arriving soon, and then soon after, an epic game of hide and seek. Charlotte looked around the backyard – at the treehouse, the blue house with white trim, the heathy, green grass, the brick red fence. “OK, everyone, we are ready to play! Come out!” she announced to the backward.

Something magical happens when she calls to the creatures of nature in her backyard. First, she closes her eyes and imagines the rabbits, squirrels, cats, birds, mice, and insects awakening to her call to play from their little hidey-holes. Then the cumulus clouds move above her house, but only hers, into fantastical shapes beyond imagination, different every time swirling above at her command. She ran up unto her treehouse to survey her kingdom – around these parts, she was the queen, Maddy was the princess, and the animals were her people. When the queen commands a royal game of hide and seek, it is so.

“Rabbit, you are ‘it’. Everyone, go hide,” she commanded to the backyard creatures. She watched as Rabbit ran to the tree trunk under the treehouse and thumped his foot against the ground for a count of twenty. The creatures scattered across the lawn to the hidey-holes and secret places. Charlotte surveyed the game from above as Rabbit finished his count. Sprinting across the lawn, his white fur and pink ears seemed a blur as he sniffed out the animals hiding in bushes, behind the patio furniture, and every other small space they could fit their bodies. He tagged them ‘out’ one after another, until he won the game. Rabbits run fast, and he won fair and square.       

“I declare Rabbit the winner! All hail the victor!” Charlotte exclaimed with the royal authority the backyard granted her. The menagerie of animals squeaked, meowed, and chirped in applause. She climbed down the ladder in the treehouse to the grass and returned to blanket to be with her people. They surrounded and mimicked her as she laid down to stare at the clouds. All animals lying down around her, she breathed deeply, closing her eyes for a moment so she could open them to see new things in the fluffy clouds with a fresh view. “Look everyone, I see a frog! Oh! And a horse! What do you see, Maddy? . . . Oh! You see a dragon!” she exclaimed with wonder. The menagerie responded in kind, in their own languages of squeaks, meows, and chirps.

“Char, time for dinner! Time to come inside, Papa’s home,” Mama yelled through the open kitchen window. Charlotte could smell dinner wafting out into the backyard – meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Not her favorite.

Waking out of the daydream, Charlotte stood up, picked up Maddy, and walked to the backdoor to dinner. “Coming, Mama! Goodbye, everyone!” The animals disappeared where they were, reducing to small, fluffy white clouds floating away over the backyard fence.

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Erica Phillips, 2023

Excerpt from a future project, untitled. Thanks to

William Pauley III

for feedback on this one.

For a retrospective on how this story came to life, read on . . .