Hello everyone. Sorry I could not make it to Raleigh today due to the flooding.
Today you will select the photo you feel speaks to you -- the photo that tells a story. You may not know what the story is yet, but nonetheless, the photo is speaking to you. Trust your instinct.
Once your photo is selected and you upload it to the Shared Drive, you will begin the pre-writing process. Here are directions to view and upload your photos in Shared Drive.
Start with a quick-write for five minutes about your photo. Just write down everything that comes to mind. It doesn't have to make sense now.
Also, write down one prose sentence about your photograph that is not expository. So, do not explain what is in the photograph, but create a sentence that you think of from looking at the photo. I have some example below from a photograph I took while at Root (fluorescent light) and from a photo I took that inspired me to write the essay, Christmas Eve Wonder.
Today you will select the photo you feel speaks to you -- the photo that tells a story. You may not know what the story is yet, but nonetheless, the photo is speaking to you. Trust your instinct.
Once your photo is selected and you upload it to the Shared Drive, you will begin the pre-writing process. Here are directions to view and upload your photos in Shared Drive.
Start with a quick-write for five minutes about your photo. Just write down everything that comes to mind. It doesn't have to make sense now.
Also, write down one prose sentence about your photograph that is not expository. So, do not explain what is in the photograph, but create a sentence that you think of from looking at the photo. I have some example below from a photograph I took while at Root (fluorescent light) and from a photo I took that inspired me to write the essay, Christmas Eve Wonder.
Photo title: Grief Distilled
The light from the surface is not always the brightest source. Sometimes the true source of light is invisible and comes from within. My light comes from my faith, family and scars. There is a quote I love from a Leonard Cohen song, Anthem: There is a crack, a crack in everything
Here are the last two stanzas of the song:
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
My light shines bright but it was not always that way. When my mother died, my light dimmed and crackled as if a fluorescent light bulb about to burst. But now, as years of grief has passed and I am able to shine, I am shining a light for others. A light for those who have lost a loved one.
To be continued...
Here are the last two stanzas of the song:
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
My light shines bright but it was not always that way. When my mother died, my light dimmed and crackled as if a fluorescent light bulb about to burst. But now, as years of grief has passed and I am able to shine, I am shining a light for others. A light for those who have lost a loved one.
To be continued...
Photo Title: Twinkling Wonder
Essay Title: Christmas Eve Wonder
Essay Title: Christmas Eve Wonder
In each photo, there is a pocket where memory marinates.
What I remember most about Christmas is spending time with my family and the magic of Christmas Eve. The joy of spotting Santa in the sky and the holiness of the night as it curved into dawn of Christmas Day. We would wait up for my father on Christmas Eve, which was so exciting. He worked nights as a security guard at the Northern Trust Bank in Chicago. He would leave for work around 1 in the afternoon. Even though his shift started at 3, he would leave the house at 1 to catch the train into the city from the suburb where we lived. Mom had the house filled with Christmas smells and spices. My favorite was a mixture of orange peels, cinnamon sticks, and cloves simmering on the stove. It made the house smell so wonderful.
We would bake Christmas cookies and roll out the white dough and sprinkle green and red sugary crystals on top of each cookie. Snowmen, Christmas trees, bells, Santas, and elves. I don’t know how the afternoon passed. Sometimes we would wrap last-minute presents Mom needed help with. We would help get “The Little Room” ready for Christmas Eve. The Little Room was the name of the room attached to the garage. It was behind the house, about ten feet from the back door. It had a fireplace and that is where we put up the Christmas tree. It was such a magical place around the holidays.
With a fire crackling and the lights shimmering, we would sing along to the Christmas music on the radio and shake our presents to “see” what was inside. Even though we were allowed to open any gift under the tree on Christmas Eve, my sister and I always opened each other’s gifts that we got each other. Then it turned into tradition. I remember one year she saved her allowance for months to get me a monkey puppet. It had super long legs and arms and had a squeaky toy inside the mouth. It was brown and furry.
The most vivid memory is when Dad finally got home from work around midnight and we would squeal with delight, scampering around the house. Then we would run barefoot over the snow (it was Chicago – you could pretty much always bank on a white Christmas) and pitter patter through it, jumping from stone to stone on the circular stone path that led to the Little Room. And once inside the door, we would warm up by the fire and drink hot cocoa. Then we would open each other’s gifts — my sister and me — and my parents would watch. That is what I remember about Christmas. Well, Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve is such a special time. Everyone is getting everything ready and it just is magical, no way around it. I love Christmas Eve more than Christmas morning.
I am embracing this tradition with my son, who is experiencing the wonder of Christmas. I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas with your loved ones and I hope you experience the wonder of the season, just as you did in the pockets of your childhood memory and in the creation of new memories.
Photo Title: Knowledge Secret
Hidden in this book is a mystery. Gabriel knew the secret, but dared not tell. He carried his secret with him throughout his journey. Until he met someone else who knew. Then the adventure truly began.
So, what I bolded above can be the stem from which I write this week about my photo(s). It is a fictional story about the adventures of Gabriel and his secret. The story will be continued. Do you see how a photo can inspire your own creative writing?
Below is a slideshow of photographs I took on day 1. I have used a freewrite to come up with ideas to write about by just writing down the first thoughts that popped in my head when I looked at the photos. This is what I mean by writing stems. Sometimes an idea really sticks with you and then you can choose to explore that idea more deeply and write more about it.
Below is a slideshow of photographs I took on day 1. I have used a freewrite to come up with ideas to write about by just writing down the first thoughts that popped in my head when I looked at the photos. This is what I mean by writing stems. Sometimes an idea really sticks with you and then you can choose to explore that idea more deeply and write more about it.