An update from the thirty-fourth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday April 23, plus some of the output published below After the success we had discussing objects back in the fall session of 2021, we once again turned our focus to these strange, almost alien things. And yes, objects are strange! To begin we looked at a shovel—yes, a shovel—because as it turns out Marcel Duchamp considered the shovel odd enough that he put one up in a museum. Next, we looked at some of the artworks from an exhibit by Katarina Kamprani, wherein she slightly transformed ordinary household objects—a hammer, a knife, for example—into unusable things, the idea being that the exhibit invites us to consider how strange objects are. We then discussed a few paintings—Still Life with Skull by Cezanne, Violin and Candlestick by Georges Braque, and Sunflowers by Van Gogh, to name a few, all of which presented objects in a distorted, alienating light. From our discussion of paintings we moved into a discussion of poetry, beginning with Wallace Stevens’ strange poem “Anecdote of the Jar,” in which the central object, a jar, seemed to transform itself and its surroundings with its strangeness. We also read “Perception of an Object Costs” by Emily Dickinson, which suggested that by perceiving an object, the object somehow eludes us and escapes our perception, two poems by Gertrude Stein—”A Box” and “Mildred’s Umbrella”—and “The Crystal” by Clark Coolidge, all of which elucidated the transformation of perception that can occur when closely examining an object. The Challenge: First, choose an object either near you or imagined. Then, 1) write a funny poem/story about your object, 2) write a scary poem/story about your object, &/0r 3) write a sad poem/story about your object. The Participants: Emma, Alice, Ellie, Samantha, Fatehbir, Josh To watch more readings from this workshop, like Fatehbir’s below, click here. Fatehbir, 10
My Dream, a poem by Skylar, 5
Skylar Chen, 5 (Knoxville, TN) My Dream Skylar Chen, 5 I had a dream. In my dream, I got on a swing. When I flew up to sky, I saw a wonderful sight. I heard birds chirping, I felt wind blowing my hair, I smelt fresh grass. I wish I could erase coronavirus from our world.
Saturday Newsletter: April 23, 2022
Stable (oil) By Savannah Chun, 13 (Dallas, TX), published in Stone Soup April 2022 A note from Tayleigh Happy First-Day-of-Spring-Session-Writing-Workshops! Our first Writing Workshop of the spring session—William Rubel’s—begins this morning at 9 AM Pacific, to be followed by Conner Bassett’s at 11 AM Pacific. Today is especially exciting for me because for the first time, I will be joining William’s workshop as an assistant! I can’t wait to meet all who have signed up. But, even if you’ve missed the first class, it’s not too late. William and Conner discuss different elements of writing each week, and you’re welcome to join at any point during the season. You’re also welcome to write to me at tayleigh@stonesoup.com if you’d like to test out a class before purchasing tickets, or if you’d like to apply for a scholarship. You can sign up for both of these classes, as well as Book Club with Maya Mahony, using the blue button, below. A week from today, Maya will lead the first Book Club for Writers of the spring session and discuss A Wish in the Dark by Christina Soontornvat. This Book Club is a fantastic way to meet fellow bibliophiles. Today, I’d like to highlight a poem from our April issue: “Wild” by Rex Huang. “Welcome to our birdbath,” he writes. The following stanza meditatively focuses on the little world that exists inside the birdbath. To me, it’s a reminder to slow down, to focus on the beauty that is right in our backyards. Of course, panoramic vistas are breathtaking, but so is something as simple as a “crimson red leaf” floating, falling into a birdbath. “And it’s the little things, That make the world.” Savannah Chun’s The Stable similarly captures the beauty of the mundane. It is just a stable, and yet it is more. The way the light hits the tops of the eaves, the tree’s shadow that seems to almost dance in the wind. It is just a stable, but it is beautiful. For a moment, I’m not focused on a deadline or that item on my to-do list I haven’t yet crossed off; I am only focused on the serenity that exists inside that little world inside the painting, the poem, or in my own tiny apartment as the afternoon sun streams in and illuminates the wall. Until next time, From Stone Soup April 2022 Wild By Rex Huang, 11 (Lake Oswego, OR) What one may miss once Will never miss twice There’s always new New plant New wind New ant hole And it’s the little things That make the world Welcome to our birdbath A crimson red leaf Is shed from a tree Drifting slowly Slowly Slowly Into the crystal-clear reflection of the water Only disturbed by the ancient moss That lives there Spring is coming New is coming …/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.
