Archive for the ‘Week 15’ Category
This submission was also created at the National Writing Project in New Hampshire’s Summer Invitational Institute. This was born out of an activity we did with visiting poet, Jim Kates. He believes that all poems are a game with rules, and so we drafted rules for a new poem. They are as follows:
Poem must have 6.5 lines
The first 6 lines each much have 8 vowel sounds; the last .5 line should have 4
The third line must use the color magenta
The fifth line must contain the active verb laugh
the 6.5 line must contain a y
The second line repeats as the sixth.
You must complete your poem in five minutes and not take it too seriously. Remember the first time through a game is just to learn the rules. I challenge you all to write on of your own and post!
Poem Game 1
Monopoly afternoons loom,
The summer break plays out like doom.
Magenta sun set evening’s pace,
Pull up a chair and roll the dice.
Laughs the Top Hat, it’s not a race.
The summer break plays out like doom
Your Boardwalk stroll.
Space Painting: Part 2
A few more attempts at some beginner spray painting techniques, as I did in week 13. I think I have settled on a particular card stock that works nicely for this.
I’ve been trying to draw more for a story book I have been wanting to create for some time now.
Background: Beaverton (a Beaver) is having his workers (the Candy Corn people) tear down the forest and replace it with candy corn lane!
I have a few pages completed so far but I think everything is coming along just nicely.
More to come soon!
Flying Lesson 15
Since I decided to make my lessons enjoyable (gifts that aren’t enjoyable are not good gifts) I try to plan them well from the beginning. Sometimes I don’t manage to do that but then I simply make them enjoyable during the walk.
Flying lesson 15 is planned as a long walk, at least one hour.
I have an appointment at 1:30 so I decide to start 2 hours earlier from home.
Take the bus a bit further than where I’m going and walk along the canal back to where I should be. Plenty of time!
But plenty of time shrinks to only just in time. Since I haven’t walked along the canal on time before I have no idea how long it will takes to get where I’m going
And there is no bus and no shortcut if I’m be late. Stress and anxiety seem to be easy to catch on such a walk.
Change of plans! I give myselfback that load of time by deciding to walk from insead of to.
My appointment is a tasting, they pay me to taste and evaluate different things and it’s always fun. Today it is chocolate, and then pie, both very quickly completed.
Furthermore we all get a big bag of chocolate bars as a gift from Fazer (it was their chocolate we tasted). It will be a good gift to people I know who need gifts.
Walking along the canal with happy people jogging or walking with prams along the walkways. Helga comes into my mind since I have walked there before with her. I decide to call her because I haven’t talked to her for a while. It turns out that she is about 3 blocks away and ready with whatever she is doing in about half an hour. We decide to walk together.
The walk along the canal that I was worried would take too long when I left home turns out to be exactly an half an hour walk. Good to know!
With Helga walking becomes more enjoyable. We turn the walk into a joint flying lesson, being second pilots to each other.
Of course talking about men, relationships, to be an adult and take responsibility, future projects and fears not to handle them. It’s so easy to fly with your mirror co-pilot next to you.
She is also teaching me a technique of how to endure when you’re tired of just walking.
You simply walk into a shop just to look around! When you have finished looking you have forgotten that you were tired of walking and can easily continue a bit further.
We take a break at a diner I have been looking at for a while It turns out to be a gold nugget with good sandwiches and great friendly staff.
They even tell me that I have a very cool name. As I said, nice staff!
As it’s situated right next to the main police station and prison, we also get a true story with us from the guy behind the counter before we leave.
A guy from some African country who has been held in custody panicks when he’s is on his way to be locked up. It’s simply not possible and he refuses, explaining that his soul must communicate with the spirits, that it’s stifled if it gets locked up. Since he, after all, must be locked up, one of the guards get an idea and fetch a plastic bag into the cell. He scoops the “soul” into the bag and says that he will now take the soul out so that it will not be locked in and the guy will get it back when he is released. The guy is really pleased and becomes calm.
We walk and walk and walk and talk and talk and when we finally arrive at the Haymarket we have been walking together for 2 1 / 2 hour.
It’s good to plan for pleasurable gifts. With a little creativity and an open mind they can become even more enjoyable than you think.
I spent a lot of time outside or at appointments I had all week. Also, I just purchased a new mouse and keyboard so I can actually finish the next page of my webcomic. It isn’t complete yet, but this is a panel from the page that will hopefully be up tonight or tomorrow. (Sorry if this text is all over the place. The placement of this thing threw my text all off for some reason…)
This was just super feeling of poetry moving through me coming and going quickly, like the cooling rains of summer in the south . Two diff. poems
rain rain deep purple rain
launched against window sills like rockets
day breaks in the garden
remnants of morning pancakes
and maple sap smear their way
across the beating pounding of my heart
and all four walls are there
and the garden
where I grow tomatos and
wait for the days where the rain comes up
to entagle with quilts
ink meet paper meet quil
rain rain purple rain
thump ker thump
an ink stained poets heart
the mountains moved
against painted palats
backdrops of the wonderment of our lives
full moments met head on with flesh
and scalp and symetry
scalding pots filled with redding crustations
and and fat bald balls and bisquits
warm situations to be had
leaves that tumble empty
upon the full black top
the wind whistles against
the book shop perched ahead
coffee navigates your chest
the crow flys
and you know you are home
this is just a little sketch oil pastel on notebook paper- just what I felt express itself after the poetry came out