Two short stories from the homestead 

A very industrious spider has taken to building webs across my back door. I don’t know what it is trying to catch, but by the size of the intricate fiber netting, I can only guess it is after one of the kids or possibly even me. 

I’ve walked through the web multiple times over the past few days. Have you ever watched someone walk through a spider’s web? Arms flail, legs twitch and fingers pinch at an unseen assailant. It’s like watching someone have a seizure and hallucinate at the same time. And that’s what I looked like on my back porch. 

The other morning I saw the intruding creature. I opened the blinds to allow some early light into the house, and there it was, suspended in the air by the near invisible thread. It was about the size of a half-dollar coin, not counting the eight spindly legs radiating from the bulky core. Probably just a harmless garden spider, but by the time I retrieved the broom to defend my castle the annexing arachnid was nowhere to be seen. I tore the web down for it to only be replaced before I returned home. 

And I got to do that crazy dance again when I went out the back door. 

I need to invest in some bug spray before the thing is successful. That would be hard to explain to my wife. 

 ***

In 1904, Pablo Picasso changed his artistic style. The Spanish artist began using warmer colors, oranges and pinks, giving his subjects a strong sense of life. This body of work became known as his Rose Period, and during the two years stretch he produced many renowned works of art.  

The most famous of these being “The Acrobat’s Family with a Monkey” painted in 1905. The piece portrays, you guessed it, a circus acrobat with his family next to a monkey. Google it. I’ll wait … Pretty neat, huh? 

The budding artist in my house has entered a new period of creativity. While riding home from school one recent afternoon my daughter produced a handful of loose papers, each containing a colored drawing of a set of lips. Some of the lips were pursed, others slightly opened revealing white teeth. Others were pierced and twisted in smiles from warm and welcoming to sinister. The colors ranged from lush red to deep purple. 

She eagerly displayed each one, even though I was trying to drive. With children it’s always safety third. She then inquired if I wanted her to draw such a picture for me. Of course, I do. 

I’ve commissioned a large canvas painting. I ordered big red lips on a deep blue background. I’m still waiting for the finished product, but I’ve already picked out a spot on the living room wall. 

Years from now art scholars and collectors will be discussing Lily Dominy’s “Lip Period.” I got in on the ground floor, and I suggest you do the same.  

You can reach Kyle Dominy at k.l.dominy@gmail.com or write to 115 South Jefferson St. Dublin, Ga. 31021