Jack-o-Lanterns

The jack-o-lanterns of my youth were carved by four children and my father crowded around a single pumpkin, wielding butter knives and rapaciously stabbing over each other's shoulders at a vaguely drawn face. When it finally got too dangerous, dad made us take turns. I clearly recall watching - painstakingly - as my siblings carved as they saw fit on the pumpkin that would represent the Smith House that Halloween. It was torture not having control over the entire pumpkin, and despite my siblings artistic leanings, the jack-o-lanterns never came out nearly so spectacular or grandiose as my imagination would have them. As an adult, I now have the option to use sharp knives and carve a pumpkins alone, opening a vast realm of possibility.

First Attempt

One night, Josey, Ryan, and I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning in a stippling and cutting contest. Ryan mentioned he had won a contest in 5th grade for carving D.A.R.E. into a pumpkin. I laughed off his elementary achievements and felt emboldened by his D.A.R.E. He deftly proved me wrong, for this night produced one of the most magnificent works of art ever captured in fruit: Ryan's free-handed Vincent Van Gogh. The photograph didn't come out. I couldn't capture the intricate detailing, as Van Gogh's very essence was captured, right down to the crow's feet creeping around his beady eyes. It was arresting.

Lame Lips - my least favorite

We proceeded to hide our jack-0-lanterns in the cabinets so our house guests wouldn't take one home.

Grandmother's Choice

Sadly, just as I was mastering the medium, my days of pumpkin art were cut short (literally!) by a dastardly slip of the gigantic exacto knife. I hope to resume carving around Thanksgiving.

The favorite