“Sunflower Week” ends with a challenge. After reading The Sunflower Myth blog post, Ralshella, one of my former students, challenged me to rewrite the story.
Of course, I can’t let Shelibelle off the hook, so I’m challenging her to pick up her pen and rewrite the story.
And I’m challenging you, my blog friends, to rewrite the story too.
Create a myth that explains the origin of the sunflower. You can revise or work against the Ancient Greek myth of Clytie related in the Sunflower Myth post. Or you can create an entirely new myth.
Since this is a creative work, you are pretty much free to express as you wish. There are three rules:
- Refrain from using profanity or sexually suggestive themes (My kiddo often reads my blog posts).
- Avoid the woman victim-villain-abused characterizations we typically find in such stories.
- Present your own original work.
I will post my own sunflower story next week. If you have a blog, come back here a week from today and post a link to your myth in the comments of that post. If you don’t have a blog, but would still like to participate, post your story in the comments. 🌻🌻🌻
I’m looking forward to your stories!
Do brown paper bags inspire you?
I love the message on the paper bag at Chop Chop, my favorite “new” restaurant to get a chopped salad [They only sell salads, so don’t go there looking for chops]. 😉
In short, simple sentences, the bag offers “feel good” advice for living the good life.
There’s too much positivity on the bag to toss or use till it falls apart, so I decided to upcycle it into something that would last “just a little longer.” With paper and glue, I transformed the bag into art for my inspiration wall.
This was simple to make–I used two pieces of 12 x 12 scrapbook paper, trimmed one to about 11 x 11 and then recycled the chipboard from a package of pocket pages. The bottom layer is a about 12.5 x 13. After trimming the excess from the bag, I layered everything and applied three coats of Sparkle Mod Podge. I, then, added some embellishments from my stash. All done! [Eventually, I’ll get it framed].
Just in case you have difficulty seeing all the words, it reads:
Smile.You are unique. Discover and pursue your passions. Support your community. Listen and be heard. Be the change you desire. Your time is now. Take a moment and just breathe. Enjoy simplicity. Learn and practice every day. Question the status quo. Climb higher. Leave a gentle footprint. Live free. Eat well. Make amazing friends. Challenge yourself. Live in the moment. Dance when everyone is watching. Be strong. Be loud. Be unafraid. Be relentless. Share your passions. Elevate your tastes. Keep it real. Keep it fresh.
As you can see from the first picture, I have another bag ready to go. I plan to take a completely different approach with that one. For now, I’m eyeing a Chipotle bag for my next “craftsterpiece.”
Have you created anything with a paper bag lately?
I woke up this morning stunned by the reality that there are 25 measly days left of my summer vacation.
Summer is my time to get.things.done. I usually use the time to “repair” and catch up on everything. I read. I write. I play. I watch a whole season of a television series I don’t have time to watch during the academic year. I create. I write letters and send lots of postcards. I purge toys, books, clothing. I catch up on [some of] the “household matters” that pile up from August to May. I plan for fall semester.
This summer is different. I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night with an unchanged “to do list.” Sure, I get some things done. But, despite my daily lists, I spend most of my time daydreaming or staring at the computer screen trying to figure out what to do next–or what I have the desire and energy to do next. Then, I take a nap.
As I was organizing the postcards I received over the last few months, I mulled over reasons I’m not as productive and considered strategies to increase my productivity over the next few weeks. I paused when I ran across two love notes that scream “summer.” They reminded me that summer is not all about work, and what I need is rest not a reset.
The first is a sketch Andrea completed while in Australia in February to escape the cold Austrian winter. It depicts the North Sydney Olympic Pool with a view of Luna Park. I’m impressed with how accurately Andrea sketched the scene. Check out a photograph here to see what I mean: North Sydney Olympic Pool [fourth image beneath the central image].
With the collage postcard above, Andrea provided the recipe for summer–masterpieces, poetry, fancy, eternity, and pure art [see image for measurements].
Thanks for the reminder, Andrea! Summer is for all of this.
So, bear with me while I check myself: I work hard from August to May. My weekdays begin at 4:00 a.m. (sometimes 3:00), and I regularly put 75-80 hours per week into my work–preparing for classes, meeting with students, grading papers, attending other meetings, and doing my part for the committees on which I serve. It’s insane to squeeze everything that I didn’t get around to from August to May into a two-month summer. It is absolutely okay to not kill myself working just as hard while I’m on break. Summer is, after all, the best perk of academia.
Thanks to two beautiful postcards, my break has finally begun–vacation from guilt, lists, schedules, and the fierce pressure to get it all done. I need the poetry, art, fancy, and naps (especially) to cope with life after July.
Today is the last day of NaBloPoMo! I actually blogged every day for 30 days straight. Let me tell you. This was not easy, but it was worth it. Not only did I get caught up on some blogging but I reminded myself that I can find time to get things done “no matter what.” Most days were manageable; however, there were some rough spots–days when I was overworked and plain ol’ exhausted, nights when selecting photos or scanning images or putting more than two words together felt like the most difficult thing in the world. But here we are on the 30th post in 30 days.
The most important thing I’m taking away from this experience is a re-acquaintance with a tenacity I’d forgotten I had, the “sticktoitiveness” drilled into me at a very early age by parents who believed a commitment is a commitment and, unless it is destructive, it should be honored–even when I make the commitment only to myself. I can work around and through time constraints, daily demands, and unexpected challenges to meet my personal and professional goals. Although they take a different type of energy and intellect, those other projects–the ones that “count” in “real life,” the ones that are on hold “until I can concentrate” or work without life’s constant disruptions–can get done now. And they will.
Thank you, my blog audience, for following along on this adventure and for your “likes,” your comments, and your encouragement along the way. And guess what! NaBloPoMo’s end is timed perfectly. Today is also the last day of classes for the semester, which means I now get to dedicate the next 10 days of my life to grading. I’ll be scarce for a week or two, but I’ll be back because I have much more to share.
Oh–in case you’re wondering why Oscar the Grouch is featured on the page, there’s no connection between him and the end of NaBloPoMo. He’s here because he represents my mood the last couple of days and because he provides a sneak preview of one of my December blog posts. 😉
Until then…Have joy!
Note: If you missed any of the NaBloPoMo blog posts and you’d like to catch up, click the November archive link. —>
When Giving Is All We Have
One river gives
Its journey to the next.
We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.
We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.
We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—
Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.
Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:
Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.
You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me
What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made
Something greater from the difference.