A Small Offering by Chipka
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No AI - This artwork was created entirely by hand or with traditional digital tools.
Description
You remember peaches from your grandmother's garden.
She—your grandmother—didn't speak the language that you hear every day; she was not a woman ruled by the temperaments and the history known in your adoptive homes. You know of two languages of two places...but your grangdmother would not recognize them if she heard them spoken; she, you realize, would have declared the speakers enemies and dismissed the small triumphs and tragedies of their lives. But she knew peaches: when to pick them, how to bake them into cobbler, or preserve them in jars. She knew cherries, too. But she never grew them, never saw their blossoms marking the passage of time in her very own garden.
You remember peaches from various markets.
Some were sweet, you recall. Others were as tough and gnarly as the stones at their hearts. A friend of yours, touched with schizophrenia, once told you of a suicide attempt he'd managed with peaches. “Boil the pits,” he said, “and you'll derive cyanide. I'd tried that once, when I'd wanted to end things. But I didn't have enough peaches.” Cyanide, at the heart of a peach exists in too small a measure. You can taste it, if you eat the woody stone. It tastes of almonds. You appreciate the taste of almonds and you think that death, as your friend has named it, is a thing lacking in unpleasantries.
Now, however, suicide is not a thing you think of. Nor is the taste of almonds.
Another friend has chosen to share her fruits with you. She's had a night of drinks, of vodka and something with the taste of citrus. You know this stuff. You've had more than your fill, but after a night of cruising the internet and wondering at the course of your life, you think only of the offering placed before you. A peach. Cherries. It is early and such fruits are welcome. You have scant crowns in your pockets—enough for cigarettes, and perhaps bread, but for fruit, you have little to spare.
It is no matter.
You have peaches for free. And cherries too.
You have lunch as well, and it comes to you with the smell of broccoli and garlic, and the promise of bread.
It will be a good day.
All you need is a nap.
****
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and especially commenting. Hopefully you've enjoyed this image as much as I enjoy the day on which it was taken.
Comments (28)
wonderful still life! Very beautiful photo!
It looks delectable!
Stunning picture and an amazing narrative!!!
Beautiful image; and as usual a very thought-provoking story to go with it. I do so look forward to your uploads!
a grand image and story, Chip!
wonderful !
Your words, like these delicious treasures, make life worth savoring. CC
Really splendid Chip... such marvelous red... I adore!
Nice words and a great idea & presentation. V:5********** Hugs !!!
Just for God in this wondeful Sunday
This one looks like a painting. The applied technique made a piece of art. Btw, love the story. Igor.
So sweet. 5+.
Wonderful capture, Excellent well done..
I am deeple touched by this wonderful image and heartfelt narration. Wonderful work Chip and it is always a huge pleasure and enjoyment to view your images and read your narrations. :)
Something familiar, something from home, in a no-longer foreign (but not quite "home") land. It's the small things in life that connect us across continents and political boundaries.
great offering makes me a bit hungry so i am offfffff to the kitchen
o yes this is one that makes the mind go back in time a place were we all wish for.
BRILLANT!!!! ROBY
REALIST picture with a good story !
Wonderfully written words to match this excellent photograph. now, about that nap... Zzzzz : )
Wonderful works~
An interesting 'telescopic' view of early family recollections, and a pithy and (actually amusing in a sad way) disussison on suicide. Then I study the image, which is soft and nearly sensual, and marry the two. And ponder. Which is the idea... Dave
Everything you write is so touching Chip....damn, you're good And did you know that a small percentage of the population is unable to smell the bitter almond scent of cyanide....interesting, eh *** H u g s ***
I do not know how you do it. Again you've touched me with your words, with all the - can we call it reality? - behind 'em. And again you've left me speechless... Yes, I like peaches and cherries and my grandmother had no garden of her own and no interest in gardening. She was a Berlin-girl from Tiergarten, blown to more rural parts by the winds of history :-)
Excellent still life study, I have not got around to one of these as such, you inspire me :)
Good composition!
I love those luscious red bing cherries. This is making my mouth water.
Lovely composition. beautiful lighting and color. wonderful photo!!