Day 93: Today Melissa came over to have "craft day." The idea was that we'd both get some long-overdue scrapbooking done. Unfortunately, I didn't get my photos developed in time and my printer was on the fritz, so while Melissa scrapbooked, I compiled a bunch of old "snippets," story beginnings or poems or little pieces of various writing projects that I had printed out while moving files from my laptop to my desktop, and I organized them, hole-punched them, and divided them into different binders. It doesn't seem very creative, but technically I was creating different binders of collected poems, short fiction, and short nonfiction. Plus later after she left I got my printer working again and made them some covers. They were pretty plain, but still: at least that felt a bit more like outright creation.
Day 94: Speaking of compiled poetry, today at work I finished up the last bits and bobs of a project I've been helping with for months now at the library. An afterschool group has been coming to the library once a month for the last 6 months and each time we discussed different kinds of poetry and had them try to write poetry of their own. We went over haiku, limerick, concrete poetry (words form a picture of the thing they describe), and acrostic poems (first letter of each line spells out a word or name). In our last meeting they picked their favorite poem they had written and illustrated it, then my coworker Cheryl scanned and printed all the images and I added an introduction, table of contents, title page, cover, end note, and brief explanations of the poetry types. We then bound it all together as a book. We made five copies in total: one for their school library, one for our branch manager Shelley, one for the principal of the school, one for the head of the afterschool program, and one to be entered into the library system so kids can come in with their parents and check it out. This last copy made me pretty excited, because it meant that since Cheryl and I put the book together we are now both in the system as "authors," which you can see for yourself right HERE.
Day 95: I wrote a little nonsense rhyme that I may eventually make into something more...
How do you do, madam? How do you do?
My name's Anastasia Godiva Carue
Can you solve my riddle? I'll offer some clues,
And perhaps you'll soon see through my ruse.
Day 96: It was a very busy day, as I drove straight from work to meet Mandy and travel down to Savannah for the weekend. By the time we arrived at the hotel, I didn't have much left in the way of creative juices flowing. But I did draw this picture:
And when unpacking I discovered what happens when you accidentally leave a bottle of gummy vitamins in a hot car. Mandy insisted this should count as my Good Madness for the day, even if its creation was unintentional. Behold, the mega-vitamin:
Day 97: While listening to live music in Savannah's city market, I sketched this picture of Mandy:
Day 98: Our last day in Savannah, Mandy and I went to a Fairy and Gnome home festival. There was a contest where people were challenged to build a fairy home using all natural materials. There were some awesome entries, but since the whole thing seemed more geared toward kids I made a "fairy tepee," but didn't officially enter it. Mandy added the beautifying touches, the sprig on the top and the leaves for a path:
Day 99: More "house between worlds," including this scene:
"He can't have gotten far," whispered Hannigan.
"And you know it was that girl," Madeleine said, in a pompous I-know-exactly-what's-going-on tone of voice that made me want to hit her.
Instead, I spread the venom thick in my voice.
"We don't know any such thing," I said.
Only then did Em look up, and she stared straight at me as if seeing something she had somehow missed before.
"I mean," I added hastily,"You know... we can't be sure of anything."
But it was too late. I swear in that moment she knew everything. And that was all it took. It was back - that rage, its scorching hellfire blaze. I saw the thoughts rise in her eyes, watched them swell and take shape: Suspicion. Fury. Revenge.
I knew then that Jason, wherever he is now, is doomed.
And so am I.
Day 100: I got out the charcoal pencils and did a few sketches. The third one is a combination of images that have something to do with my "house between worlds" story and a quote from Neil Gaiman's novel Neverwhere.
Day 101: I wrote the first stanza of a poem and thought, "Ooh... I like this. I should write another stanza." But I couldn't think of anything and I was tired, so...
Day 102: ...I woke up the next morning and wrote a second stanza. Here's the combined total thus far:
She plays among the barrow downs
She knows that's where the ancients keep
Their secrets hidden among bones,
Locked safely in eternal sleep.
She knows that she might lose herself
If ever she crept in too deep
So she ignores the tempting sounds
That whisper from the barrow mounds.
She knows the rings of ancient stone
You'll often see her dancing there
Twirling to some unheard song
Out beneath the open air.
She sees the beauty in lost things
But knows she also must beware
The tug to spend her life alone
Among the cairns of sacred stone.
Day 103: Well, those two stanzas were all well and good, but the poem didn't feel finished. I felt like it needed one more stanza, to tie it all together and almost give it a meaning (if that makes any sense). But whenever I sat down to write, I didn't like anything I came up with. So as of now, it's an unfinished poem.
To prove that I did create today (even if it was fruitless) here are some of my abandoned stanzas:
Day 104: I wrote the following poem, which I also posted as a note on Facebook:
I know of dragons in the deep,
the scary kind that haunt your sleep:
big as mountains, wings spread wide
with eyes that gleam like sparks.
Let me at them, let me try...
On land or sea or even sky.
Let them at me; I won't hide.
Let fire light the dark.
I'd rather be the fool who's dead
than live in a world where people dread
to do the things they wish they'd tried -
shackled by doubt and shame.
I know of dragons, but you see
the dragons also know of me.
In tales they tell at fireside
they tremble at my name.
Day 105: My cat Mr Paws died tonight, and I wrote these haiku:
Every closed door is
Just waiting to be opened
So I can pass through.
Lounging in the sun
Chasing rabbits and squirrels.
Stray cats... stay away!
Wacky, playful cat
A paw darts under the door.
Chase feathers and string
Jingle in the dark
A warm house to come home to
Dear, you will be missed.
Day 106: In honor of Mandy's 25th birthday, I shaped two blocks of Boursin to mold a three-tiered mini-"cake". Mom added the candle on top:
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