“Orange Landscape” by Eli Breyer Essiam, 10 (Cambridge, MA) Published in Stone Soup July/August 2018 A note from William A quick note to begin: the second session for the Stone Soup and Society of Young Inklings summer writing camps is still open. If you might be interested, check out the schedule. The classes are starting again soon. “Wildfire.” The elegant poem by Karinne Ulrey we are featuring today, paired with Orange Landscape by Eli Breyer, speaks to the power of words to change the world. But it also speaks to the need to remain focused with one’s message—a single word, a single sentence, may not be enough. This is true whether one is thinking about changing society as a whole or in just changing oneself. And, of course, sometimes the spark never actually takes. The pairing of Eli’s painting with Karinne’s poem helps me see it as a complex work of art: The painting’s focus is on orange. Eli has done a beautiful job of working with orange tonalities. Imagine the painting with blues, or greens, or yellows. It would then be a very different painting. Paired with the poem, we read the orange as fire. But one can also read it as a landscape bathed in the hopeful light of dawn or the dying light of a vivid sunset. The sky can be read as smokey flames or as the orange light of sunset glowing in the fog, a common sight where I live in coastal Northern California. Eli’s landscape is well imagined and alive with detail—the trees on the crest of the hill, different styles of building, roads, a windmill. One can get lost in this painting: a dreamscape. Saturday project When an artist works in a limited palette, it is called working in a monochrome—mono meaning “one” and chrome meaning “color.” Artists rarely limit themselves to a single color; rather, like Eli, they work in a range of hues within a limited color range. This weekend, I want you to use colored pencils, markers, pens, or paint to create a scene with a single dominant color. Like keys in music, your choice of color will affect the feelings and emotions that your painting evokes. As always, if you like what you do, go to our Stone Soup website and send it to our editor, Emma, to review for possible publication. Refugee Project news To remind you. Several of you generously donated money toward Stone Soup’s Refugee Project. Our goal had been to have a special issue of Stone Soup made up of work by refugee students this past spring. It isn’t just the pandemic that has caused the deadline to slip. It is taking time to build the relationships we need to bring in the work that will speak to the world. Laura Moran, who is in charge of this project, is doing a fabulous job maintaining momentum. We are talking with our web designers about designing a section of the website for some of the material we have received. To be honest, our web designers are very slow! We are working with them on a general redesign of the site, including a space for refugee material. All I can say is that we are more impatient than you to see the site improved. Though some of what has been sent to us is exceedingly disturbing, and we have several poems in Arabic that we are having translated, I think we will be able to start sharing material with you within a couple months. Subscriptions The very best way to support Stone Soup is by subscribing. If you aren’t a subscriber, please join with us this weekend. Inspired by the poem “Wildfire,” I am asking you to join with us in all the great things we are doing with and for young writers and artists. Thank you. Until next week, Winners from Weekly Flash Contest #14 Weekly Flash Contest #14: Write a poem or a story where a sudden change in the weather provides a pivotal point. The week commencing June 29 (Daily Creativity Prompt #71) was our fourteenth week of flash contests—and we would not have guessed so many of you would be inspired by the weather! We had a record number of entries (more than 50 this week, and we were, as usual, very impressed). Everyone brought to life various weather events, from blizzards to rainstorms, in varying forms—from poems (including concrete poems) to prose. The judges had a hard time battling through all that weather, but in the end we emerged, windswept and drenched, into the warm sunshine of decisions made. Well done to everyone who entered, but particular congratulations to those who made it with us through the storm as honorable mentions and winners. You can read the winning entries for this week (and previous weeks) at the Stone Soup website. Winners “Cabin Catastrophe” by Isabel Bashaw, 10, Enumclaw, WA “Michi and Kieto” by Lucy Berberich, 11, Oxford, OH “Transformation” by Sofie Dardzinski, 9, Potomac, MD “A Line of Cars” by Wesley Moniz, 9, Belmont, MA “The Hotel of Angels” by Emerson Swift, 12, Mill Valley, CA Honorable Mention “The Flower’s Lesson” by Audrey Fan, 10, Cary, NC “Driftwood on the Sea” by Meleah Goldman, 10, Oakland, CA “Rain” by Misha Nasarpuri, 12, Portland, OR “Rose After Rain” by Amruta Krishnan Srinivasan, 9, San Jose, CA “The Money Rain” by Cici Zou, 11, Concord, MA Highlights from the past week online Don’t miss the latest content from our Book Reviewers and Young Bloggers at Stonesoup.com! In her cartoon “The Virus Should Bring Us Closer,” Rebecca, 9, notes that even though we can’t physically close to others, we can still connect virtually. Michaela, 12, writes her story “The Writer, Artist of Words,” about a writer struggling in quarantine, in the unusual second-person narration style. In her blog post, Vivian writes about how schools should step up and offer gender-neutral bathrooms for their non-binary and transgender students. Manasi, 12, wrote about about how coronavirus has changed our lives: “Something feels different, go away COVID-19.” Though we’ve published reviews of the entire Harry Potter series,
Flash Contest #14: Write About a Pivotal Change in the Weather. Our Winners and Their Work!
Weekly Flash Contest #14: Write a poem or a story where a sudden change in the weather provides a pivotal point. The week commencing June 29th (Daily Creativity prompt #71) was our fourteenth week of flash contests–and we would not have guessed so many of you would be inspired by the weather! We had a record number of entries (more than 50 this week), and we were, as usual, very impressed. Everyone brought to life various weather events–from blizzards to rainstorms–in varying forms–from poems (including concrete poems) to prose. The judges had a hard time battling through all those changes in temperature, but in the end we emerged, windswept and drenched, into the warm sunshine of decisions made. Well done to everyone who entered, but particular congratulations to those who made it with us through the storm as Honorable Mentions and Winners. See below for all their names, and read the whole blog post to experience the weather conjured up by our top-placed winners. Winners “Cabin Catastrophe” by Isabel Bashaw, 10, Enumclaw, WA “Michi and Kieto” by Lucy Berberich, 11, Oxford, OH “Transformation” by Sofie Dardzinski, 9, Potomac, MD “A Line of Cars” by Wesley Moniz, 9, Belmont, MA “The Hotel of Angels” by Emerson Swift, 12, Mill Valley, CA Honorable Mention “The Flower’s Lesson” by Audrey Fan, 10, Cary, NC “Driftwood on the Sea” by Meleah Goldman, 10, Oakland, CA “Rain” by Misha Nasarpuri, 12, Portland, OR “Rose After Rain” by Amruta Krishnan Srinivasan, 9, San Jose, CA “The Money Rain” by Cici Zou, 11, Concord, MA Isabel Bashaw, 10Enumclaw, WA Cabin Catastrophe Isabel Bashaw, 10 ¨Dad! Where did you put my slippers?? I can’t find them!¨ Hi, my name is Bella. I live in Seal Rock, Oregon. It’s spring break, so my family went on a trip from the damp Oregon coast where we live, to even damper forests in the mountains. We were staying in the same small, cozy cabin we always did, but this year it seemed to be raining even more than usual. It was nearly time for dinner, and our family was almost done unpacking. ¨I don’t know honey!” replied my Dad. ¨Check in the bags.¨ I rolled my eyes, since obviously I already had. I gave one last glance at my bedroom before I walked out. My bed was creaky, but the rest was fine. There was an antique dresser, where I had put my clothes and my ipad, as well as an old wooden bookshelf. Each year I neatly lined up the collection of books I would read that week. Deciding that I must have left my slippers at home, I sat in an old armchair and looked out the window. The misty fog had drifted away (thank goodness), but in its place a slow drizzle showered the forest. Dull gray clouds wandered along the dark sky, but the cheerful cabin was cozy. There were radiators for heat, so I put my cold toes on one to warm up. The cabin was at least as warm as our own house in Seal Rock, but each year my little sister, Lola, still insisted on having Dad light a fire in the fireplace every day. ¨Well, time for dinner! Dish up!¨ my Mom said as I walked into the kitchen. I took a slice of sourdough bread and a bit of salad, but nothing else. Lola took the opposite: roasted potatoes, broccoli, and chicken. I despised anything roasted or burned, and I didn’t eat meat. For some reason my parents made whatever dinner they wanted to anyway. I nibbled at my bread and picked at my salad. I never really wanted to leave home to visit this small cabin. I didn’t like nature walks or rain (or worst of all, nature walks in the rain). I preferred the idea of tropical climates, five star hotels, and crystal clear oceans with white, sandy beaches. ¨Bella. You hardly have any food and you aren’t even touching that! Are you sick? Do you feel alright?¨ Mom looked at me, worried. I shrugged. ¨Can I go to bed?¨ I asked, not wanting to eat. Mom sighed. ¨Okay, go ahead. I´ll come and tuck you in after dinner.¨ As she picked up my plate I went back to my room and got into my pajamas. I clambered into my soft bed, and read until I heard Mom coming up. I turned off the lamplight and shoved my book under my pillow. Pretending to be asleep, I closed my eyes as my mom kissed me on the forehead and whispered, ¨Goodnight, Bella.¨ After she left the room, I pulled out my flashlight and read until dark. Then I put my book on top of my dresser, and laid on my back, trying to sleep. After a while my eyelids felt heavy, and I drifted off to sleep. … BOOM!! BOOM!! I shot up in bed. Was this a nightmare, or real thunder? I couldn’t tell. I rolled over on my side, trying to get back to sleep. BOOM!! BOOM!! It was louder this time. I tried to ignore the noise and just go back to sleep, but it just went on. I couldn’t sleep, and it was all nature’s fault. I bet it wasn´t thundering back at the beach, where my friends were probably hanging out at a sleepover, playing video games and having fun. I sleepily got out of my bed, and shuffled down to the kitchen, dimly lit by one light. I made myself hot cocoa to try to make myself drowsy again. As I sipped it, I looked out the window into the pouring rain. It was all blackness, but during the day we had a great view of the mountainside from here. I was startled out of my thoughts when a great white flash of lighting struck across the midnight sky. Then almost immediately came more booms of thunder. Suddenly Lola appeared in the kitchen doorway. She glanced at my cocoa. ¨I can’t sleep. Can
Outside My Window, a poem by Prisha Aswal, 7
Prisha Aswal, 7Portland, OR Outside My Window Prisha Aswal, 7 Outside my window, Are trees, And bees. No one is out, Because of coronavirus disease. No crowds, But clouds, And a big black dog I see. I miss what this place used to be. Look far away there is a house, From over here, it looks like a mouse. My other window has a different view, Squirrels running over the fence! Phew. The butterflies are dancing around the flowers, And the flowers seem happy to soak in the showers. That brings a smile on my face, As I start enjoying the days. Only hi and hello no hugs. This mask on my face does bug. But it is important so wear we must, Because doctors say that and them, we must trust. It will save lives and let us help each other, Because we are all in this together.
