Song at Dusk (watercolor) by Aspen Clayton, 11 (Lisle, IL), published in Stone Soup May 2022 A note from Caleb Happy second Saturday of May! This week, I’m delighted to focus entirely on two pieces of art from the May 2022 issue, which should have—if it hasn’t already—arrived for our print subscribers. (Once again, we apologize for the delay!) What we have with Aspen Clayton’s watercolor Song at Dusk and Necla Asveren’s poem “Golden Moons” is yet another example of our editor Emma Wood’s magnificent ability to match up artwork with written work. Of course, the obvious connection between these two works is the central object of Aspen’s painting and the title of Necla’s poem—a golden moon. However, I would like to focus more on the thematic links between these two pieces and how they work in conjunction to elevate each other. Necla’s poem is, at it’s core, a “song at dusk” in both content and structure. Its content is a lyrical eulogy to a crumbling society that flew too close to the sun, that had “beauty and riches beyond measure, and drowned in it.” In other words, a song at dusk. The structure or form of the poem can also be simplified into two things: song and dusk. At the molecular level, if we break down the two connotations of “song”—positive—and “dusk”—negative—the golden moon at poem’s end, of which the subjects of the poem “[crawl] out of our holes to see,” can be seen as the “song” of the poem whereas the setup—the fall of society—is the “dusk.” Of course, without Aspen’s painting and its title, I wouldn’t be able to analyze Necla’s poem in this manner. Most likely, the title of Aspen’s painting is in reference to the bird perched on a branch. Thus, a literal interpretation of the painting is a bird song at dusk. But placed next to “Golden Moons” and its descriptions of a society in collapse, the painting gains new meaning. Look at how thin, flimsy, and barren the branches are. Notice how the bird rises up out of the dark, spooky lower half and appears, with the help of perspective, to perch on the moon itself—the painting’s source of light. Like all great titles, “Song at Dusk” represents the literal image of the painting as well as its theme: the beauty of art and nature; that is, art and nature’s ability to champion lightness in the face of darkness, positivity against negativity. Until next time, Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our May Flash Contest was based on Prompt #202 (provided by intern Sage Millen), which, like her last contest prompt from February, dealt with food in a remarkably whimsical way. This time the food was pizza rather than tomato soup, as participants were asked to write a story where somebody betrays their best friend for a slice of slightly stale pizza. Once again, the submissions matched the sheer creativity and ingenuity of the prompt as submissions ranged from a direct address story in verse to a story set in an interrogation room to a piece of historical fiction set during the Bay of Pigs Invasion. We were also so impressed with the work of Ellis Yang in their story “An Unsent Letter” that we decided to publish it separately on the blog at a future date. As always, we thank all who submitted, and encourage you to submit again next month! Congratulations to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below. You can read the winning entries for this contest (and previous ones) at the Stone Soup website. Winners “The Stale Pizza Slice” by Suanne Li, 8 (San Jose, CA) “The Perils of Pizza” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “The Triad Trials” by Emily Tang, 13 (Winterville, NC) “The Trash Pandas and the Pizza” by Michael Wilkinson, 12 (San Carlos, CA) “Would You Like a Slice?” by Joycelyn Zhang, 12 (San Diego, CA) Honorable Mentions “Hope” by Jeremy Lim, 9 (Portland, OR) “The Tale of the Raccoon” by Anushi Mittai, 10 (Beaverton, OR) “The Last Slice” by Arshia Ramesh, 12 (Overland Park, KS) “Kaleidoscope” by Cayleigh Sukhai, 12 (Swift Current, Saskatchewan, Canada) “Two Best Friends and a Slice of Pizza” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) For the Stone Soup blog “An Unsent Letter” by Ellis Yang, 12 (Los Altos, CA) From Stone Soup May 2022 Golden Moons By Necla Asveren, 12 (Shanghai, China) And it was with bright eyes and a bold step that we reached into the stars. Grouped around our television sets and computers, we cheered the sun on—just one more day until a new start. And we pulled down the diamond net from the sky. The lovely, glorious, gold-silver— we drowned in it. Beauty and riches beyond measure, and we drowned in it. Fireworks turned into bombs and our stars were against us. Nothing was ever enough. ../MORE Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
How Stories Work—Writing Workshop #36: Collage Poetry
An update from the thirty-sixth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday May 7, plus some of the output published below This week, we continued with Italo Calvino’s Six Memos for the new Millennium. After focusing on “lightness” last week, we turned our focus to “multiplicity,” defined as the quality or state of being multiple or various. Naturally then, we discussed the epitome of multiplicity: collage poetry. To begin, we discussed the history of collage as an art form, noting its rise in popularity in the early 1920’s, especially among experimental painters of the cubist and dadaist movements. Some collage paintings we discussed were Picasso’s Guitar, Sheet Music, and Wine Glass, Hannah Höch’s paintings Fur Ein Fest Gemacht and Flight, John Stezaker’s Muse, and Jesse Treece’s Mountains Between (pictured above). We then broke into some definitions of collage, defining it as the art of choosing, affixing, juxtaposing, and arranging. This led us to discuss collage amongst writers, noting in particular the “cut-up” method of composition, wherein writers cut out words from newspapers, scriptures, magazines, etc. and put them in a hat before randomly selecting them to create a poem. Some examples of collage poetry we read were Ted Berrigan’s “The Sonnets,” an excerpt from T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland,” and an excerpt from Ezra Pound’s ‘The Cantos.” The Challenge: Make a poem with entirely found language: combine language (phrases, words, sentences) from multiple outside sources. Participants can use sentences around them from books, magazines, newspapers, street signs, conversations, other poems, etc. The Participants: Emma, Zar, Alice, Ellie, Samantha, Anna, Shiva, Nova, Lina, Fatehbir To watch the readings from this workshop, click here. Anna Cronin, 9 (Fishers, IN) Anonymous Child Anna Cronin, 9 Here is the revelation bright as the morning star The truth is: I know how intimidating it can be Creating your own, a vine and its branches The meal that’s special, the mothers example It’s all the same, sending them into his vineyard To some people, the reactions are new creations The goal in my first few years is pure: are we high functioning? Who is like them? They designed the central aim and the great theologians. What stereotypes drift in the wind, and what organizations of their character practice. While not all months are education, degrees in headquarters are anonymous like a good person. Multicolors, like a scene, are wild and beautiful. Self-concept is extreme humility, but why did the responsibility of the child matter? Additional scattering in our citizenship is healing, A vision for growth of the stones with power Some define brilliance in friendship and models, and for decades to come aromas pass. Finally, despite our emphasis, transitions will happen. And coaching includes our thoughts, not yours. Emma Hoff, 10(Bronx, NY) Core Collapse Supernova Emma Hoff, 10 Stars between about eight and 25 solar masses die in a core collapse supernova, a Major League baseball barrier has been broken, South Africa hit by rains, floods, news project launched. Get to know Arizona, the 48th state, look at an atlas or map of Wyoming, circle the capital city, this is a kakuro puzzle, 20. take a small drink. Last year I planted lots of daffodil bulbs in my garden, but only 65% of them actually grew into plants, are you ready for a challenge? Here’s a finished example: saving the cat’s pajamas, “The Outfit,” and “Deep Water. Wild pigs cause havoc, tributes to elephant, plan to help manatees shows promise, zoo animals go wild for scents. Blenny captures a quick meal, give bowling a try! New York/Motto: Excelsior.
Flash Contest #43, May 2022: Write a story where somebody betrays their best friend for a slice of slightly stale pizza—our winners and their work
Our May Flash Contest was based on Prompt #202 (provided by intern Sage Millen), which, like her last contest prompt from February, dealt with food in a remarkably whimsical way. This time the food was pizza rather than tomato soup, as participants were asked to write a story where somebody betrays their best friend for a slice of slightly stale pizza. Once again, the submissions matched the sheer creativity and ingenuity of the prompt as submissions ranged from a direct address story in verse to a story set in an interrogation room to a piece of historical fiction set during the Bay of Pigs Invasion. We were also so impressed with the work of Ellis Yang in their story “An Unsent Letter” that we decided to publish it separately on the blog at a future date. As always, we thank all who submitted, and encourage you to submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “The Stale Pizza Slice” by Suanne Li, 8 (San Jose, CA) “The Perils of Pizza” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “The Triad Trials” by Emily Tang, 13 (Winterville, NC) “The Trash Pandas and the Pizza” by Michael Wilkinson, 12 (San Carlos, CA) “Would You Like a Slice?” by Joycelyn Zhang, 12 (San Diego, CA) Honorable Mentions “Hope” by Jeremy Lim, 9 (Portland, OR) “The Tale of the Raccoon” by Anushi Mittai, 10 (Beaverton, OR) “The Last Slice” by Arshia Ramesh, 12 (Overland Park, KS) “Kaleidoscope” by Cayleigh Sukhai, 12 (Swift Current, Saskatchewan, Canada) “Two Best Friends and a Slice of Pizza” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) For the Stone Soup blog “An Unsent Letter” by Ellis Yang, 12 (Los Altos, CA) Suanne Li, 8 (San Jose, CA) The Stale Pizza Slice Suanne Li, 8 Living in an unwanted and forgotten bag of chips in a landfill, Round Belly and I munch contentedly on a large pizza in a pillow-covered couch inside. We mice are best friends and our absolute favorite food is pizza, especially ones with pepperoni. My house is a perfect place to eat pizza because of its delightful combined smell of expired cheese and rotten potatoes. Chubby Cheeks, a rat, scurries to my snug house, waving his hands in the air, a sign that there is exciting news. “Beginning-of-autumn party! Tomorrow! All day long! Lots of apple pies, apples, pumpkin pies, pumpkins, pecan pies, and pecans! In my house!” Chubby Cheeks gasps, words gushing out of his mouth. His fur spikes up, and he runs in little circles rapidly, leaving clouds of dust behind him. “There will be a contest at the end of the party! Come to win the grand prize!” At night, I roll around in bed, unable to fall asleep. When I do, I dream about having a huge, huge pizza, enough to cover mountains, valleys and plains and to fill the oceans, rivers, lakes, ponds and springs. I wake up in the morning, and I mischievously shout in Round Belly’s ear, “PARTY!” “Ugh,” he mumbles, “be a good mouse and please just let me sleep for another 24 hours.” “NO! BEGINNING-OF-AUTUMN PARTY!” I loudly whisper, but he lets out another loud snore. I finally grab a pie from the fridge and hover it above his pink nose. “Party!” he shouts, immediately sitting up. As I place the pie back in the fridge, Round Belly excitedly runs in place, his legs a blur. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” We race to the party next door. Reaching the door first, I shout with joy. Round Belly catches up, panting with exhaustion. Entering the backyard, I spot brightly colored balloons attached to neon tables and vivid banners. “Time to eat!” I joyfully shout. After I am done chomping on a few hundred pies, Chubby Cheeks announces, “Contest begins for the grand surprise!” He throws open a velvet curtain in the back, revealing a miniature house with no windows snugly tucked in the corner of the backyard. “You will hear the rules once you are in the miniature house. One mouse or rat at a time, please!” I rush to the little house and climb up the steps. Chubby Cheeks unlocks the door. He happily gestures to a couch, then settles in a wooden rocking chair and grabs a stopwatch. Closing the door, he enthusiastically squeaks, “Name five different types of cheese! Whoever does it the fastest wins! Start… now!” “Swiss, mozzarella, cheddar, cream, colby jack!” I shout in a rush. “2.57 seconds! Well done!” Opening the door, he hollers, “Next! Round Belly!” Standing on a chair on top of a table, Chubby Cheeks announces, “the winner of the contest is… Round Belly, with 1.03 seconds! His prize is a stale slice of pepperoni pizza!” As the crowd cheers, claps, and applauds, Chubby Cheeks jumps down and hands the grand slice of stale pizza in a box to Round Belly. Filling with excitement, Round Belly bursts with joy. “Uh… can you hold the pizza for me?” Without waiting for my response, Round Belly pushes the box towards me and makes a straight beeline to the bathroom. Having the stale pizza right in front of my nose, I am already drooling. All my thoughts are directed right towards the pizza. Round Belly sprints back and plops on the couch. He closes his eyes, moves to the center of the couch, and gets ready to eat the pizza. He opens the box in a flash and only finds pebbles rolling out of the box. “Hey, where did my pizza go?” Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) The Perils of Pizza Lui Lung, 12 The dim glow of the single lit lamp outlined the grim lines of his face. His lips were pressed tightly together, his brows furrowed, and the only telltale sign of his true anxiety was the repetitive, rapid rhythm of his bouncing knee. Up and down, up and down. The jangling of keys parted the thickening
