Aditi Nair, 12Midlothian, VA A New Beginning by Aditi Nair, 12 Sitting. Crunching. Staring. Glaring. The sun gently embraced the horizon to meet the sky. Colors dance and sing before the early bird rises. Beep, Beep. Over and again. Time to rise before the moon left the sky. Usual, the usual. Pancakes smothered in syrup, and blueberries squished on top. All seems ‘normal’ except for one thing– masks, everywhere. Donned all the time. The virtual learning is about to begin– screen-time, more screen-time. Time for a change to surface, above all and beyond Hope, let us hope for this pandemic to end. For a new beginning to rise, for there is hope and hope is the essence of life.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Writing Workshop #41: “Critters” and Multiple Perspectives
“Critters”Hand-Colored Zoological Photomicrographs by Ernst Heeger, courtesy of Hans Kraus Gallery An update from our forty-first Writing Workshop A summary of the workshop held on Saturday May 15, plus some of the output published below We started this week’s workshop with a visit to New York! Photography expert Hans Kraus showed us around his Park Avenue gallery, sharing a selection of the beautiful nineteenth-century photographic drawings composed from insect parts, microscope magnifications, and even prints made from living material in the gallery’s current exhibition, called “Critters.” One of the key images from this show was William’s jumping off point for this class. We looked at the photograph – composed of wing scales from a Hawk Moth – considering how the similar but slightly different shaped and coloured objects in the image relate to each other, or not; how groups and sub-groups might form and interact depending on how we look at or think about it. We moved through examples of writing from a previous class by Georgia Marshall, as well as Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen, and listed to a quartet from Fidelio, all of which presented multiple characters in different, sometimes parallel, interactions with one another in different group formations. The Challenge: Write a piece from the perspective of 3-5 characters. They might appear in a single group, multiple groups or alone; they could be interacting, avoiding interaction, moving away from one another. The Participants: Peri, Lena DN, Maddie, Gia, Madeline K, Pranjoli, Reese, Margaret, Wesley, Julia, Rachael, Chelsea, Jaya, Lena A, Mia, Delight, Lina, Helen, Hanbei, Peter, Sage, Sierra, Mahika, Anna K, Audrey, Angela, Jonathan, Grace, Charlotte, Iago, Nova, Madeline, Nami. Lina Kim, 11Weston, FL Alone in the Wind Lina Kim, 11 As I walked home from school, I glanced at the kids outside, playing basketball and soccer and baseball somehow all combined into one game. They called it ‘basketbasesoccball’. For a second one girl saw me watching and I quickly shifted my gaze away, looking down at the sidewalk covered in chalk drawings. I pretended to be interested in them, trying to push the girl’s attention away from me, but instead she walked up to me. “Hey, do you wanna join us?” she asked. I stood there, paralyzed. I’d always tried to hide in the shadows—but here, there was no shade, not a single tree. The only shelter from the beating sun was on the bench with the covering—which was inside of the basketbasesoccball court. With people sitting on it. I shuddered at the very thought. Sweat trickled down my forehead, but not from the heat. “Robin?” she asked. I flinched at my name. “No thanks,” I managed quietly. She stared at me for a minute, then shrugged, getting back to the game. I watched as they laughed and played, shooting hoops and kicking balls into the net and making home runs. I’d always been invisible. I looked around at the barren earth around the school. There wasn’t a single plant—not a shrub, not a blade of grass, not even a weed. I’d always wanted to do something about the lack of nature. Instead of staying any longer and risking someone talking to me, I headed straight towards my house. It wasn’t exactly home. Nothing felt like home to me. It was just a house. My house. No, my mom and dad’s house. They cared about me, but they just didn’t go about it the right way. They tried to get me to be out in the world, out in the sunlight, when I’d rather be sitting in the shadows of a large redwood tree in the middle of the forest, drinking in pure nature. I reached a small forest. It wasn’t exactly a forest, just a place full of grass and trees, and it was really small. Still, I made a split second choice. I looked both ways and ran into the wilderness. I decided to climb a tree. I hadn’t done that in years, ever since I fell from one at four years old and broke my right arm. But that was seven years ago. I put my foot in a small dent in the bark and pulled myself up into the middle, where the trunk split into several branches. It was a nice hidden place. Suddenly a large gust of wind swooped around me, somehow grabbing me and throwing me into the air. A tornado? A hurricane? I reached wildly, trying to grab a branch to hold onto, but I was too far. The wind swept me into the sky. I felt myself dissolving into the wind, becoming part of it. I scrambled desperately in the air, but soon I was only wind. No one would remember me. I was invisible. And I still am. Forever. Sometimes I still wish I could go back, make friends. But I know I will always be part of the wind. Immortal. But sometimes I didn’t want to be. What was the point of never dying when there was never anyone to keep you company? Even if I could be seen, if I was still immortal, they would just move on and I would be left, friendless once more. Alone in the wind. Anna Ko, 11Saint Louis, MO The Midnight of our Friendship Anna Ko, 11 They were happy and content. They had all they needed. Three friends together. But their bond wasn’t that simple. Their bond had its ups and downs, like the tide. Sometimes, they would click. They would understand and know just what to do. But sometimes, they were annoying as the squirrels and rabbits which continued to terrorize their garden, always huddling around to see how they could help the other. But never, never, had they ever had such a situation. When they were young, they had first met. But as they grew up their interests started to differ, and they argued more. They had their moments, but slowly, over time, it just started to collapse like a half-demolished unkempt structure. No one noticed
Tig & Lomster
“Good morning, Tig,” says Sun. “Morning, Sun,” says Tig. “Why are you in such a hurry today?” asked Sun. “I have to get to the park before everyone else gets there.” “Why is that?” “Because I don’t like it when there are lots of other people there. It’s too busy.” “Don’t you like having lots of new people to play with?” “No,” Tig shakes her head. “How do you know if you don’t try?” asks Sun. Tig shrugs. “It’s just not for me.” “Well, I never,” says Sun, floating along in the sky next to them. “And who’s that with you?” “That’s Lomster,” says Tig. “What is Lomster?” Tig points at Lomster. “My imagination,” she says. “Is it friendly?” The Sun looks at Lomster. Lomster bares his teeth and growls. Grrrr. “Sometimes,” says Tig. “I see,” says the Sun, rising a little higher, a little more out of the way. Tig is walking the long way around the park, through the woods. “Wouldn’t it be quicker to go across the field?” asks Sun, watching them through the leaves. “No, it’s too noisy and the trees make me happy.” “What do you like about trees, Tig?” “They make a sort of swishy, friendly sound,” says Tig. “But don’t you want to see the fun fair in the park?” asks Sun. “No, thank you,” says Tig, stepping carefully over a snail. Sun was surprised. “I thought everyone liked fun fairs!” “They’re just not for me,” says Tig. “Well, I never,” says Sun. Around the corner, children are playing. Tig and Lomster stop to watch from behind a tree. “Look at all those children playing hide-and-seek! Don’t you want to join in?” “No, I just like to watch.” “Go on, Tig. Give it a try!” “No, thank you, Sun. It’s just not for me.” “Well, I never,” says Sun. Around the corner, Sun spots an ice cream stand. A lady in a yellow hat is selling ice cream cones. “Look, Tig! Don’t you want an ice cream?” asks Sun. Tig stops and looks round. Lomster pulls on his lead. “No, thank you, Sun. I don’t like talking to people much.” “Why is that, Tig?” asks Sun. “It’s just not my thing,” says Tig. “Well, I never,” says Sun. Tig and Lomster find an old oak tree in the quiet shade of the wood. They climb at the branches, one, two, three, and find the perfect place to sit. “What are you doing in the tree, Tig?” asks Sun, watching Tig line up coloring pencils and a notepad on the branch. “Writing Lomster stories,” she says. “Does Lomster like having stories written about him?” asks Sun, keeping one eye on Lomster. “Sometimes,” says Tig. “I see,” says Sun. Then Tig undoes a tin lunch box and takes out a pot of thick, orange, wiggling worms. “Why have you got a pot of worms in your lunch box, Tig?” “For Lomster,” says Tig, holding up a big, juicy one for Sun to see. “They’re his favorite. Want to try one?” Sun makes a face like a letterbox. “No, thank you, Tig.” “Don’t you like eating worms?” she asks. “NO,” says Sun. “Well, how do you know you don’t like them until you try them?” she asks. “They’re just not for me,” says Sun. “Well, I never,” says Tig.
