An update from our nineteenth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday October 30, plus some of the output published below Continuing our run of workshops focused on concrete concepts instead of standardized elements of writing, this week we focused on objects because, simply, objects are weird! In order to illustrate this point, we began by looking 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. The Challenge: Three short exercises done in ten minutes each. First, choose an object either near you or imagined. Then, one: write a funny poem/story about your object, two: write a scary poem/story about your object, and three: write a sad poem/story about your object. The Participants: Audrey, Simran, Josh, Emma, Lina, Ethan, Shilla, Ellie, Olivia, Svitra, Sinan, Alice B Svitra Rajkumar, 13(Fremont, CA) The Deadly Jasmine Svitra Rajkumar, 13 It was getting late and Xyian still hadn’t found the last ingredient for the crabapple concoction she was making. She had picked the juiciest blood colored crabapples, some wild hibiscus nectar, yellow poppy seeds, and indigo sugarcane sugar. All she had left were deadly jasmine petals. Unlike the frightening name, the petals of the flower had an exotic flavor that couldn’t be found elsewhere. The deadly parts were the stems. If you were to come in physical contact with a deadly jasmine stem, they would drag you underground with them. However, Xyian was prepared. Her mother, having specialized in potion making, knew a lot about dealing with dangerous ingredients, and gave her special gloves to deal with them. Xyian walked into the dark cave that stood in front of her, pushing aside the long vines that creeped along it’s opening. She shuddered as the chilly air hit her face, and tugged on her coat’s hood.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Writing Workshop #51: Apophenia – Finding Patterns in Unrelated Events
An update from our fifty-first Writing Workshop A summary of the workshop held on Saturday October 23rd, plus some of the output published below For this workshop, William introduced the concept of Apophenia, which is when one takes differing, unrelated concepts and ties them together through stories. We took a look at some “chance poems” by Tristan Tzara. We also listened to some pieces of music by John Cage, including his famous 4’33 piece. The challenge: Using an online random word generator, each writer chose 8 verbs that they were challenged to incorporate into a story. The participants: Ethan, Liam, Jonathan, Peri, Lena, Sierra, Kate, Faiz, Madeline, Elbert, Marissa, Samantha, Rachael, Kina Regrets Peri Gordon, 11(Sherman Oaks, CA) Peri Gordon, 12 (The words I had to use: Reject, regret, repeat, request, reflect, result, report, restrict) I reject My regrets. I repeat My request To myself Not to feel, Not to think. About stress. Though I ought To reflect On my mess Of distress Can’t reflect On regret Now my life Just repeats To the beat I have set, Though on my hopes I wouldn’t bet. It results In repeating My reports To myself That better days Will come But there’s really Just regret I succumb To repeating The same thoughts: “Don’t reflect” “No regrets” Keep them buried Keep them hidden Stay erect. I succumb To restricting My real thoughts Of regret. Don’t reflect. Keep them buried. Keep them hidden. Stay erect. Being Lonely Lena D., 12Coarsegold, CA by Lena De Napoli I stared out my window, glancing at the road. There were no cars. No leaves blowing in the wind. And no noise. It all felt empty. The shadows in my room cast giant, ghostly, figures that loomed against me. There was no way of escaping. Rain poured down into my heart, and made the tears fall from my eyes. Barely breathing, I grabbed my purple coat, and headed outside. I didn’t care if I would get soaked. I didn’t care if my hair was unprotected. I didn’t care about the way the wind blew, making it impossible to breathe. I didn’t care about anything. I rushed into the forest, knowing that my shoes were soaked by now, but I ignored it. My life would be over soon. I kept running anyway. The wet leaves stuck to my sneakers as I ran. The river started to flow downstream, and I was almost positive that I was being followed. But I still ran. The trees were blowing rapidly against the wind, holding as tight as they could. The rain was pouring heavier, followed by snow. I had to find shelter, and fast. Suddenly, I stopped. I looked up, glancing at the top of the trees. They were so beautiful and powerful. How had I missed this? That nature is so magnificent and all this time I had been seeing only the blue screen of a cell phone? I kept running, but I decided to go slower this time.
Awareness, Reflection… Awareflectness!
Madeleine Schor, 13 (Palo Alto, CA) Awareness, Reflection… Awareflectness! Madeleine Schor, 13 I have a particularly vivid memory from last autumn. While tidying up my room, something unexpected caught my eye. It was an eerie morning. A newborn day, holding fresh potential, yet also carrying the threat of losing itself to the sea of all the days before it in that somber year, 2020. Out of the blue, I found my old memory box. Ooh, I thought, I haven’t looked through this in a while. The top slid open easily, and my Halloween costume from three years ago overflowed in a pile in front of me. At that time, I was going through a Harry Potter phase, and that year I had dressed up as a golden phoenix. Finding the costume was strange since I didn’t remember putting it in my memory box: it was almost as if it had been waiting for me. I smiled to myself. The golden phoenix is said to be the most prominent symbol of change and rebirth. When the time comes, a phoenix dies in a brilliant show of fire and ashes. The descendant of the original phoenix rises from its ancestor’s ashes, stronger than before, and the circle of life continues. Finding my costume made me think about how much the world has changed over the last three years. This time of year, kids of all ages used to go door to door and trick-or-treat on Halloween with their friends. With our new normal, Halloween will be very different, and I am still trying to wrap my head around how it might look. This season also typically brings anticipation for the holidays and gathering and celebrating with family. With the current COVID-19 pandemic, that will be strange this year. Speaking of strange… Wednesday, September 9th, as you may remember, was the day when the skies were heavy with darkness. Some people referred to this mysterious episode as “Doom’s Day.” I don’t know about you, but I had a hunch that there was a deeper, more spiritual meaning behind the physical darkness outside my window. Something besides the smoke from the wildfires. I went about my day attending Zoom classes for school, noticing that the day started to look more and more like night. As I was writing my heart out in an assignment for my humanities class, I heard some commotion in our hallway. Tipping toes and whispering voices filled our house. I tried to ignore it for a long while, but couldn’t help wonder, What is going on? I closed my laptop and pushed my chair away from my desk. As I opened my door, I heard a word that had never been uttered inside our home before. “Snake.” I walked out and saw my mom with an expression of shock written all over her face. “Snake! It’s a snake! Right here, in our hallway. Someone must have left the door open!” And, as if on cue, a long, slim, gray body started making its way gracefully across the floor. Wait, was this thing real? Is this a prank? But, as I got closer, I could tell from its smooth, slithering movements that it was very much real… and alive… and moving – with purpose. There was something different about this creature. Something ethereal. She (or he?) was in no particular rush to go back outside. Not a dangerous type either, luckily. Most snakes that I’ve seen up close coil up, ready to strike. But no, this snake was peacefully slithering about, minding its own business, checking out the room and the vibe. I was not afraid of this slender serpent. However, the world seemed to slow before my eyes. I thought this whole scenario playing out in front of me was splendidly curious! This was turning out to be an even stranger day than I could have ever imagined. I peeked outside and noticed that the skies had turned ever more dark and fiery orange. Still, my intuition was telling me this was a sign of something with great importance. But what? Later that day, after we gently escorted the snake out of the house (it crawled up in one of my childhood toys, seemed comfortable there, and was taken out with the toy), I was curious and researched what snakes may symbolize. According to some ancient beliefs, snakes may be signs of change and rebirth. That makes sense, I thought to myself. They do shed their skin and transform. That day, I was stunned by a small-boned creature with a significant amount of purpose. It made me realize that these challenging times have allowed ALL of us, who were very busy before, to pause due to microscopically tiny organisms with tremendous amounts of power. As we have learned how to reorganize our lives into a new normal, each day often presents us with a new set of challenges, and they bring us a reason to reflect. Every day is unique. There may be a stronger feeling of being “out of control.” However, each day holds many blessings in its heart. Even simple things in life—the sun rising, birds singing, a breeze of clean air, unexpected visitors—enrich our lives. We are all lucky to be here, on Earth, in this wonderful human community. We could call this type of change and rebirth – awareness and reflection – awareflectness. I like that. Not every sign has to be life-changing. For example, every day has a beginning and an end. Yesterday, the sunset brought the day to a peaceful end. This morning. the sunrise unveiled a new beginning, encouraging us to make this day better than the last. Later today, the sun will set, hopefully leaving us feeling strong and accomplished with how we have grown. Sometimes we are too preoccupied to recognize what the world may be trying to tell us. Sometimes, the signs are subtle. For instance, the whispers outside my door when I was writing that day. They were alerting
