Last night I had the surprise of having three of my four brothers over for a visit. It was one of those unexpected pleasures that I never seem to get enough of. We sat on the deck in the cool night air and talked all night, as siblings do. Mostly about little things – for it is the little things that make up most of our lives.
In the cool evenings I don’t want to talk of issues or strife or try to solve the problems of the World. My brain is full and my head will explode. I’m tired and just don’t want to put in the effort.
The working part of my brain has turned off all work and now are only concentrating on family and fun. Of course art. My brain is always working on art.
I think of art I will never create or I think about just art and how everything looks. I think of shapes and colors and patterns. I think of shadows. I think of the path of the eye and proportions of nature. I don’t think hard on it because it is always there.
Art is always there like my brothers.
They, my brothers are like different paintings, collaborative efforts from my parents but while they all have the same style they are all very different. The tone and subject are different. The tone is definitely different.
Over the years we’ve lived close and far apart, both physically and emotionally. Now four of us have migrated close both physically and emotionally. Within a hundred miles physically and within understanding range emotionally.
Our brother Andrew (the 2nd of 5 siblings) is in Patagonia right now, brooding over yet another woman and trying to sort out his heart with endless nights listening to the relentless howling of the wind and writing music that will never be heard. Andy is like that. Brooding. I miss him and so do my kids.
Men like my brothers (Vampires), tend to brood, except for Val. Valentine, the youngest of my brothers is almost completely devoid of the brooding gene. He is like the moon that shines bright and glows in our nocturnal world.
In 10 years our parents produced a good sized brood of 4 boys and a girl. Max, Andrew, Aaron, Valentine and Juliette. We thrived in ways my parents could never imagine, children of the first generation of the Modern Vampire Movement. We blended into several worlds happily and naturally.
So now, like any other modern family, we sit in the evening on my deck, enjoying our time together.
I looked at Max and Aaron as they spoke of what they were reading, both with their dark hair and eyes rimmed with lashes that would make any woman swoon (and feel envy).
Val and I, who have slightly lighter brown hair and hazel eyes (unfortunately not the lashes) talked about mutual friends and made plans for our next night out hunting.
My husband Teddy, who is Max’s best friend since childhood, was off on a field trip with our daughter Clara (almost 14). Our 17 year old son Garrett was inside with Verity (Aaron’s wife) doing something on the computer.
Aaron and I wondered if Max or Andrew or Val would ever find true love. My brothers wondered how I’d turned out at all. And of course we always joke with Aaron for being the most conservative and human-like of the bunch. And so we talked into the night with bottles of wine and shots of blood and a nice place of cheese and oranges. We spoke of things old and new. We talked about our parents and others we love.
We always wonder about our parents to never faltered and seemed to take on the universe for us. They still would if we needed them to.
Tiny bats flew above us and we could hear the raccoons and coyotes walking the fields behind the house. A cool delta breeze kept us cool. Tonight there would be no hunts, at least for us.
And like art, the love is always there as well.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman