✧ Signe Holmström ; — Ft. Sigrid Holmström ⚘ - Blog Posts
⇢ 🌸 STATUS ﹕ closed. ⇢ 🌸 TAGGING ﹕signe + sigrid!! (@ofelation) ⇢ 🌸 LOCATION ﹕ palmview university.
Signe made her way up the familiar staircase of the humanities building with a to-go iced coffee in one hand and a wax paper bag in the other containing a cinnamon bun. A peace offering, if she was being honest with herself. Signe didn't visit her mother's office often, not because she didn't love visiting her mom, but because Sigrid Holmström was a consummate professional. The girl had always felt guilty about disrupting her mother's crisp, orderly and polished world at the university. Switching the coffee to her other hand, she knocked twice on the office door before opening it without waiting for a reply. “Professor Holmström,” Signe began, her voice full of playful formality. “I come bearing caffeine and carbs. And maybe a bit of daughterly guilt. You free for a little break?”
Signe softened hearing her mother’s term of endearment for her, the sound jamming itself somewhere between her ribs and heart. It’s not like she never spoke to her parents or never met up with them just to catch up on life, but she was so recently moved out that the sound of the word on her mother’s lips tugged at her heartstrings and the guilt of moving out. She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile as her mother playfully reprimanded her for the comment she’d made about her artwork. The landscape was beautiful, even better than a photo in her opinion. “Yes, Mamma,” she reached out, grabbing on her mother’s hands and squeezing tight. At her mother’s teasing, probing question, Signe gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve been good – things are going well at work. I think I’ve finally gotten through and unpacked all of my boxes.” The minute she had made it home after meeting Charlie for the first time, she had called her mother to catch up and mentioned a boy and date she would be going. So, Sigrid Holmström was probing for details. “There might be someone,” Signe admitted, eyes darting to the side trying to will her blush down. “His name is Charlie.”
seeing her daughter was always a welcome sight and sigrid immediately put down her brush. sure , it had only been a few weeks since she moved out , but sigrid missed her laughter and sparkling eyes more than she would ever miss anyone. "tack , skruttis ," she replied , feeling warm at her daughter's love. the nickname was old , born when she was still a grape in her belly. "i know art is subjective , but if i hear you say anything like that and not refer to monet or renoir we will have words." she couldn't help but smile , reaching out to hold signe's hand. "how have you been , sweetheart. ?" a teasing glint appeared in her eyes. "talking to anyone special lately ?"
Signe had come up behind her mother, recognizing the woman was in the middle of a painting session and waited to be acknowledged. When her mother spoke, Signe chuckled. “You say rusty as if that’s not one of the most stunning paintings I’ve ever seen,” she teased, tilting her head to observe the landscape that she had been working on. “It’s really good, Mamma.” And it was good to see her mother allowing herself the small pleasures of being creative. While Sigrid Holmström was extremely analytical, she was also an intensely creative soul and Signe had credited her mother more than once for her own artistic streak.
who: sigrid & open @palmviewstarters where: the painting station
when sigrid had heard that there would be a painting station , she'd been very excited. it wasn't that often that she brought out her paints these days but it was a freeing activity that always helped calm her busy mind. she'd been sitting in front of her canvas for little over an hour and the landscape she'd been creating had slowly been taking shape. "this was such a nice event ," sigrid said. "i feel a little rusty , but it's getting somewhere."