October is a busy month, everyone. We should probably pull a Caesar and add a thirteenth month just so that October can catch a break.

Suddenly everyone’s done with strawberries and watermelons and now it’s all about gourds and dead grass things. People want to rock flannel like they just descended from the Rockies with this winter’s supply of logs for the fire and go on hikes in that ephemeral window between “it’s so hot I want to die,” and “why do we live where the air hurts my face.”

Apparently these things are called cornstalks, hay bales, and pumpkins. I’m not a farmer, okay?

And that’s just the beginning! Then there’s the holiday currently vacillating between Columbus Day and Indigenous People’s Day, and we reignite a discussion that will plague some Facebook pages for a whole twelve hours, and others it will plague for their lifetime.

Halloween you know all about. Monsters come out of every crack and cranny. The Bogeyman walks among us. Hellfire and chaos. Oh, and I guess everyone dresses up and gets treats.

On top of all that, it’s Inktober/Drawtober/Artober/Drawlloween! While I do intend to don flannel, mull cider, learn more about the Taino and give candy to kids dressed like characters from movies I’m officially too old to know exist, I am celebrating the visual arts this month, too!

Inktober is a challenge for artists to draw 31 ink drawings throughout the month. It’s been expanded over time to include other styles, but the concept is the same. It is the NaNoWriMo of art, and it’s glorious. My feed is a sea of works by people empowered to share what they have, even if it’s not perfect or is a work in progress. It’s a time when they get to see they’re the only ones who see the flaws, while the rest of us see skill and expression we could only dream about. So kudos to all participants! I am thrilled to be able to enjoy your creations!

As part of my appreciation, I am writing small fiction (microfiction, poetry, mini stories) about art shared with me! Let’s collaborate and let me boast about you! Here are two collaborations with two fantastic artists (and people!) Check out their work!

They call me savage.
They shriek when I come
And say that I’m wrong.
What do they know, these who have never abandoned their homes?
What’s savage is my love.What shrieks is my heart
As it sings its broken song. Art by MP O’Sullivan