A Conversation, on April 6, 1914, between Jozef Chelmonski and George Reeves

“Pterosaurs…pterodactyls. Huge beasts, they are…they are meant to frighten the wee ones.”

“Ah, no, not frighten, little Georgie. Images serve to remind us…that is the artist’s function. We need to remember even the creatures of our imagination.”

“I am still in swaddling clothes. My father is a haze. I cry all the while. I do not see beyond me.”

“But that is an infant’s function. A baby’s language. It speaks of want, of need. They sponge up their world, squeeze out mists of meaning.”

“I know of no meaning that I have.”

“You have the future. And you will carry the weight of the past. It will be with you regardless.”

“I see the sky. I see my mother’s breast. I see loss.”

“It will unfold. You will shape it, and once where you saw ancient creatures, you will see herons, skylarks, even storks, perhaps.”

“I am dreaming you? Yes?”

“We are in transit, you and I. Two vapours. Breaths of air. Sleep, now. Remember, we artists still the waters, George. We travel time. We leave our mark. And so will you.”

 

 

My contribution this week to Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction challenge #3: Shapes in the mist. Below is the visual prompt, a painting attributed to Jozef Chelmonski

untitled uncharted waters