but in a break

breaks underfoot
moment comes over
birds fly
together
loneliness escapes
at a stoplight gaze
across from--
peace of--
piece of--
mind--
art--
forms
glides
disperses
turns around
all in the dance
back
forward
together
soar again
unison
find
that place
in place
never looks
like what you-- thought
it-- would
when-- you-- first started--
to break

from the cover of the big BURSTING issue....

just another comic from the 12-page newspaper the kids and i published yesterday... wow this one took a long time to put together by hand, i was up for days, but totally worth it. more on this later... as we're now in the midst of a special edition for this thursday..... let's just say it's a hilarious work of pure newspaper fiction, and we wrote the entire thing in three hours yesterday, i've never seen anything like it, it was the most hard-working, entertaining and dedicated group of 9, 10, 11 year old newspaperists (and abby of course) that i could have ever asked for. now it's up to me to get the madness in order for thursday. 

comical stuff to come. x c

[photo by me, of course, of the front cover]

by any other name---

these past two weeks i've been helping one of my students write an essay on helen keller. i've been really inspired as well. both of us have been inspired. writing on and off the essay topic, inspired by the persistence, the strength and the courage of helen keller and the details that surround us, those that we walk past and never notice, and the ones we stop and think about with respect to helen.

we were taking notice of the small details around us -- sight -- sound -- words spoken -- songs -- laughter -- rain -- conversation -- shadows -- with new eyes we saw the sounds and heard the words. the other day at the cafe where we meet i told her just to take a few minutes, look around, and see what was there. next thing i knew, i tried to talk to her and she held up her hand, mumbling something to indicate that i shouldn't bother her. she was very busy scribbling something down. "oooh you're gonna loooove this" she squealed with delight as she was writing. in about three minutes, the 11-year-old girl who came to work with me in september and told me proudly "i hate writing" had written this poem:

What Helen Should Have

the sun on a rainy day,

people in the café,

a look in a good book,

the way the cloud sway,

that’s what i see today. 

then we were on the phone this afternoon finishing up her essay that's due tomorrow and we --sidetracked momentarily-- were discussing the performance of the school play willy wonka and the chocolate factory that she was in last night. she started counting for me, the number of roses she received after the performance,"i got a lot of red ones... and some pink... and-- "

i heard her telling me the colors of the roses, yet underneath, my mind wondered as it was already composing this next bit that i've now finished writing below......




the roses as helen knew, as i hold them in mind.

they were never yellow, never red, nor pink, purple, white or speckled. they were r-o-s-e-s spelled in hand. they were never admired from afar, or on the kitchen table, never seen from the window. they were touched, learned from fingertips and palms, yet as far as i can see...

the smell was as sweet, perhaps sweeter, but more dangerous to the touch-- causing pain without warning, a disguise, enticed, by the pleasing scent above the stem... nature's silent way, to illustrate for helen, to warn, that nothing sweet can be held, can touch without moments of unexpected pain t-h-o-r-n soft petals at fingertips release with the breath of dusk into helen's trusting palm p-e-t-a-l. under her bare feet on the grass, the rose petals tickle helen with secrets as they fall one-by-one but she doesn't notice as the petals fall from her rose, from her fingers to the ground and touch her feet and the toes that hide in between blades of grass, never knowing a color of greenest green, or yellow petals at her feet.

the fragrant petals just fallen in the air faint perfume lingers in her nose, in her fingers that believe they will once again reach out and grasp-- and bring light to her face. she reaches once more, not knowing that what was once there will never be, has fallen at her feet, and thus believing and trusting--  the prick on her finger from the thorn of what remains from the beauty of what was once, of what was just-- of what was lost-- aches, unexpected blood unseen, and sudden movement away from uncertainty, the blood-stained finger and her hand brushes past the bush where red roses grow and the scent turns her head familiar, new, and knowing now, and trying once more. reaching higher this time with experience, for if one reaches higher, with more caution, perhaps the soft scented object of desire will come into hand, gently reaching with certainty-- seen or unseen-- pain will be avoided, not forever, but in this moment.

and not knowing the richness of the iridescent crimson glimpse of that red r-o-s-e she gently caresses in her palm, she knows. bringing her nose, her eyes, her lips, to the open petals that welcome her; and no one hears her laughter, but her laughter, and roses, fragrant vibrations fill the air, and roses are experienced, not seen, their colors are touched, embraced, fallen and held, never peach or violet, crimson or yellow. delicate p-e-t-a-l-s blush with fragrance. laughter paints the roses colors vivid as your presence, feel them bloom in season-- in turn-- in pain-- in palm-- in faith-- unseen lessons love tangible in essence unexpected detail the r-o-s-e as sweet, by any other name---




chantal--raquel--helen

trying on all hats

discount shopping 
the colorful suburban way

[six words - free gift with purchase]

flickr

photos : by c

WOW! x6

i had the kids write magnetic six words again yesterday at the newspaper meeting. this is one of them written by a fifth-grade boy. ten years old and they write things like this.... that's why i keep going back.

i'll post more of them soon. have a nice weekend... x c

in winter hanging bright spots of color in darkness from blog entries scribbled

in time like oranges
in winter hanging bright on
dark clouds and strong leaves




 ..•.

in time like oranges
in winter hanging bright on
dark clouds and strong leaves

fall.


•

.


at once -- rough winds or ready

.



fallen. sometimes the sweetest fruit-- winter.


.•.


hi.
after a long absence (i've been scribbling down all my blog entries on papers ..easier on the head to stay away from the computer screen.. and i've been caught up in typing kids' stories and newspaper when i do get on the computer, and so i've never gotten to typing my stuff here, but you know i've been writing, and still making entries, how could i not....?) nevertheless, in the midst of darkness (literally) and worsening headache today,

i bring you: one haiku two ways, •and with an extra syllable• and two six word stories that i stitched together.

the other day i was struck by the brightness of the oranges in my backyard, glowing on the tree in the bareness of winter when the surrounding trees seemed to have literally given up. but the oranges were there hanging strong in the wind and rain against the dark clouds, and i'd never really considered how they hang on there, through it all, (thick skin i guess) and still give us the sweetest juice through the shortest days of the year, and all winter long. At times we hear this loud •thump• from outside as another orange --rough winds or ready-- falls from the waxy leaves of the tree and hits the deck, fall. and still the other oranges cling cheerfully to the tree, the bright oranges embraced by the (ok, yes, not so common in california, but we still have winter) dark grey of a cloudy ominous sky. it was there before me the other morning ..this image.. as if i'd never noticed. and yet i enjoy the fresh and plentiful orange juice every winter. and so i hurried inside to scribbled down this haiku.

and sitting here today in darkness, i remembered it. and you, and this.... and it's been so long since i posted any of my writing, and some of you are so good, so loyal about contacting me and checking on here, or encouraging me, and i don't always respond right away, but i answer in my head, i've composed great responses in my head! and those words from you are my oranges, and you know who you are, and it will get better, and i always say i will try but then life-- and then life--

but i will try.

and while looking for spots of color in darkness--
x c

suburban nights on the edge of fall

 








just, you know...... where we find ourselves. in the midst of-- in the midst of season and sentiments that--

-- that when you change the lighting just like so-- seem like any other location yet like nothing else, and nevertheless, it's...... what we've got right now, so what we must come to appreciate in small details such moments of delight, and light that often blurs as heads turn and headlights-- cars pass, eyes close in frustration as minds turn blank lulled by the mundane sound of the same steps in the direction we're always headed. and with any small drop of luck from that fountain in the middle of the over-used, crowded strip mall where kids run around without proper parental supervision and parking lots are battlefields where the one spot that's left empty is where you discover the guy next to you parked way over the line and your s.u.v. just will not fit-- but with any drop of luck from that out-of-place, ornate copy of a spanish, andalusian-esq fountain smack dab in the middle of this suburban strip mall, any coin you manage to pick up rather than step over and actually wish on a toss, you will come to find a drop of acceptance, no, even better--- you will see, or at least catch a glimpse of what i'm really doing and if nothing else, appreciate my attempt to capture light in what we have here, to appreciate what we're participating amongst, the bigger picture, and to know (at times) that the coin you --just this time-- didn't step on but instead tossed in the fountain on a wish, to almost believe that the light and focus, the changing seasons and perspective and colors, just might-- could-- will--  bring us just a splash closer-----

so ya, suburbia.

see my suburban dust flickr album!


x c

News in (big) print

So now that I’ve got my age-appropriate glasses on (wink wink from behind the drugstore reading glasses that I tried on here and here and in the blurry process found out that 30 wasn’t exactly the right moment— at least for my eyes and this accessory— though they seemed so happy together) nevertheless it’s time to be serious and get down to business. And ok, I’m not sure if this counts as serious or business but you know how I have a writing program for kids (if you didn’t know that, check out their blog : writing from the rooftops) well now I will be starting a school newspaper with them! It’s already become a lot of work and yesterday we had our first official ‘meeting’ and— wow—

—but I mean, it’s going to be great, I just have to really get it organized. The cool thing is that, not only are the kids exceptional at writing, but the ones who I’ve already been working with (that you know and love : Abby, Pyper, Olivia ..perhaps.. if we can tear her away from the junior high saga I got her to start writing which documents life at her new middle school, and Raquel who you’ve yet to read much about, but will—) are now assisting me with the newspaper operations. And that’s pretty cool. They helped me run the first meeting and explain the elements of the newspaper to the interested students who came to find out what the newspaper was all about.

The girls were really enthusiastic and there to make sure everyone understood what was going on...a prime example of this came when were sitting in front of the rest of the kids and some of their parents at this initial introduction newspaper meeting, these talented, enthusiastic, helpful aforementioned girls decided to impersonate ‘Chantal’ for the crowd just so they could get to know me (this hadn't really come up before when we'd discussed what we'd do in the meeting...), so Abby took my big dark sunglasses off my head and wore them on her little face and crossed her legs under the table and made a face that I'm almost certain I never make and Pyper started writing like crazy in my notebook and Raquel reached for the multitude of bracelets on my arm that she told the rest of the group I aaaaaallllways wear... and the meeting kind of progressed like that..... so I just said something like, wow guys it sounds like you all have a lot of newspaper ideas to talk about, so why don’t you just do that now and I'll walk around and get to know you, now that you know me—

—but they are full of personality and energy and ideas and passion on and off the paper. After the meeting and before we locked up the classroom I captured some of it as I was watching Pyper dance in front of the fan...talk about charisma, just look on my flickr, none of these photographs were posed, that’s how full of life these girls are. And they really bring something into mine. So perhaps this newspaper is going to be a lot more work than I signed up for, but the potential words (and photo ops with my new cute little blue camera the Algerian gave me that’s way better than reading glasses from the drugstore as a gift at 30) are too good to miss. And so, it might take a while, but we’ll be there— to get those moments in print (...and I just might need those reading glasses by the time we’re done!)

x c

trying on the reading glasses at 30

had a dinner party last night in the warm still summerish air of the candle-lit backyard, in the company of a few good friends from college and paris who i don't get to see very often, the algerian, and my parents (my mom planned it as a surprise thing for my bday today) it was really nice, really good friends, really good conversation, really really really laughing. really.

 

and i figured since i'm 30 now and people seem to think that's a big deal and old, that i should act old and look old, so i should maybe wear my mom's reading glasses (the drugstore kind) i mean, 'old' people wear reading glasses right? ;) so i wore them all night i can't say they (the glasses) made it easy to see when walking around, especially outside at night... but i suppose like all things... like this new age..new decade... i'll get used to it. and on the bright side, i am excited for the potential of a new accessory--- and if all else fails, i'll wait another 10 years and try again...

x c 

(check out the full story on my flickr!)

photos : by c (flickr)

any time you need a smile just look at this photograph : and have a good weekend

then—
her laughter
shattered my silence—
a faint light
flickered in darkness
as pieces of her laughter
fell—
sparkled
--reflected
danced—
touched me
--gently
let them fall
laughter
and her eyes big
–gleamed with
something else to
tell me on another day
as her nose scrunched
and the corners of her mouth
could no longer contain
her laughter

(for abby)


 photos : by c
(for more visit my ever-growing fickr)

bon week-end x c

any corner

staying out of the lines it really doesn’t matter where blurs blush turns to look could have happened anywhere any corner but this in passing and now--

photos : by c