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.
art
The Great Beast (The Great Wave off Kanagawa): A Series in Ekphrasis by Ella Yamamura, 14
The great beast tipped with an army of acid claws it sported a color blue so deep you could fall in and no one would see you sink. It’s favorite kind of prey were the ones with the sanded wooden sides— the ones that bobbed up and down and were filled with goods. The beast lurked just beside that snow capped mountain the only home it ever knew. The beast never stayed still. It liked to roar and attack and spray its poison mist and drag a soul or two d o w n but deep d o w n it hurt a growing pain that radiated like the rays of the sun that The beast hated so much. Maybe The beast ate too much. Everyone has bellyaches.
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.
