Joyce Wycoff's Blog, page 3
December 16, 2015
Symbolism: Silver-white Horse
"Moonsilver" by Marina PetroSilver-white Horse - Horse is a powerful symbol. Strong, free, and graceful, horse is also a spirit messenger who can take you to far away places of enchantment, wonder and awe. Horse represents your inner strength and passion, your driving force in life. Heroic characters often ride white horses which represent the connection between every day life and the land of the gods. The white horse is pure enough to carry the heroine to her triumph over misfortune and evil. The white horse represents good fortune.
A silver-white horse carries the added symbolism of silver: feminine energy, the moon, and is fluid, emotional, sensitive and mysterious. It is soothing, calming and purifying. It also signals a time of reflection and a change of direction as it illuminates the way forward.
As the silver-white horse carries Sarah into another world, what would you expect her to find there? (Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
Special thanks to the amazing artist Marina Petro for allowing us to share "Moonsilver" with you. Marina describes herself as "an intuitive consultant, artist and teacher for over 35 years, I move through life in a heightened state of consciousness and employ my intuitive vision and artistic gifts to enrich the lives of others. ... My original paintings and prints are in private collections worldwide." You can see more about Marina and her artwork at http://marinapetro.com.
December 9, 2015
Chapter 2: Take Me Away!
Sarana's Gift will officially launch 1/29/2016! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter. Also ... I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. Please leave your comments and questions. The next chapter will post on 12/23/2015 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 2: Take Me Away! (Available here until 1/20/2016)
The Radiant Question, Joyce Wycoff
Sarah talked and paced around her room while Chloe painted her toenails.
“Mom keeps talking about how difficult it’s going to be to handle the commute while Dad just raves about how cool Stanton will be. Last night he showed me all his oil paintings again. I like them even though they’re all landscapey.
“How come I never see them?” Chloe asked
“Mom won’t let him hang them anywhere except in the guest bedroom. She’s never been much into art.”
“Why didn’t he go to art school?”
“He told me once that he really wanted to but then started working at the shoe store so he could buy a car. I guess he just never got back to it. He acts like this is a second chance or something.”
Sarah exhaled loudly and her hands flailed as she tried to find more words. “What if ... what if I just don’t have what it takes. What if I’m not a real artist. I’ll disappoint everyone.”
“What am I going to do?” Chloe grumbled to herself. “You won’t be here when I need help finding the perfect shoes for the dance. Who’ll go with me to the next Halsey concert or help me with all those history dates,” she continued itemizing complaints in a low monotone.
Sarah sighed, “Mom seems really worried about the money. Maybe this is all too expensive ... ”
A stuffed green turtle struck Sarah across the face. Startled, she looked up to see Chloe glaring at her. “You really are a jerk. You aren’t listening to me at all!”
“Chloe, I’m sorry. It’s just ... well, I just don’t know. Stanton seems so amazing. Did I tell you that one of the project teams wrote and produced a seven-minute video about Malala. Can you imagine actually meeting the youngest Nobel Peace Prize winner?”
“Stop!” Chloe demanded, “I can’t hear one more thing about your precious Stanton.”
Sarah traced the design on the turtle’s back and imagined herself somewhere else ... somewhere in warm water, swimming with the turtles. She shook her head and sighed. “I’m sure I’d never get a chance to be part of something really major like that, anyway. Besides, we’ll ... you know ... we’ll see each other on weekends.”
Chloe turned toward Sarah, her brown eyes sad and damp, “No,” her voice cracked, “No, it will all be different. How will I learn my lines for the school play without you? We’ll never be able to meet for lunch and laugh at the emos who look like they grew up in a basement--”
“--with their ghost skin and black hair,” Sarah finished Chloe’s thought, trying to lighten the mood.
“Really, Chloe, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I would have to get up at 6 every morning and everyone there has all this video experience ... and what if no one likes me or wants to be friends? What if I’m just not good enough?”
Chloe puffed air out of her mouth in her standard expression of dismissal. “Oh, stop being such a dweeb. Of course you’re good enough, who did all the designs for the last three dances and won the Digital Art competition? Of course you’ll get in.”
“But, you know,” Chloe said, glancing sidewise at Sarah, “you could also just stay here with me. There are art classes here, too, you know, and you could work on the yearbook staff.” She paused and then rushed on, “and ... and we could be together!”
Sarah rested her head in her hands and mumbled, “I know. I keep thinking about that. Over and over I keep thinking about that.”
“Arrrgghhhh!” Sarah said, standing up and shaking both fists in the air. “It’s just too complicated. Stanton has all those fun classes and great teachers. Mr. Roberts says it will make all the difference to my future and that I might even get into the Art Institute if I do well at Stanton.“
“See, you do want to go!” Chloe crowed. “I knew it!” her voice trembled. “You can’t wait to get away from here. Away from me! You know I really hate this!” Chloe jerked up off the bed, glared at Sarah and stomped out of the room.
The sound of the door slamming rattled Sarah. She sat down and listened to Chloe’s footsteps on the stairs. Her throat tightened and she wanted to race down the stairs and stop her. Instead she flopped across the bed and buried her face in her pillow. Her thoughts jumbled. She wished someone would just make the decision for her.
Moments later, Sarah’s mom entered the room. “Sarah, what’s going on? Chloe acted really upset. Did you have a fight?”
“Maybe it’s a mistake.” Sarah’s voice was muffled by the pillow.
“What’s a mistake?” her mom asked.
“My, my best ... Chloe hates me.” Sarah’s voice broke. “Everyone thinks I’m, uh, I’m being a diva for even thinking about going off to Stanton.”
Sarah turned toward her mom, “I’m scared. Stanton is so far away. All my friends are going to forget me. And I ... I won’t know anyone.” Sarah sat up with her head in her hands.
“I thought I really wanted to go there, that it would be so amazing. But what if I can’t make it there? What if they don’t like my art?” she whispered.
Sarah’s mom sat on the edge of the bed, “You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she said in an even voice. “You can always stay home and take art classes here.”
Sarah sniffed and looked up. “But, Dad said ...”
“I know what Dad said,” her mother cut in, “but, he’s just remembering how much he wanted to go to art school. This is your life, Sarah, and if you want to stay here with your friends, that’s okay. It would be much easier on you,” she paused before continuing, “... on all of us actually.”
Sarah’s mom spoke a little faster, “It’s a long trip every day and you will be so busy you probably won’t see Chloe much. And, I would miss you, too, you know. It’s so good to have you home every day to watch over Danny.”
“Danny!” Sarah groaned. “Who’ll take care of him after school?”
Sarah’s mom’s back was straight and her tone was even. “I talked to the office about extending my hours, so I can afford to pay Mrs. Griffith to take care of him. They think they can probably adjust my schedule.” She hesitated and then continued, “Of course, it will make it harder to get to Danny’s after-school activities.”
Sarah glanced up at her mom. “I’m sorry, Mom. I forgot how expensive all this is and how much harder it would make it for you. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe I should just stay here. What if I try and I’m just not good enough?”
“Well, the admissions counselor did say that the competition is very fierce and lots of students don’t make it.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go at all. Maybe I won’t even get in.”
“Your father and I want the best for you, Sarah, but you have to make your own decision. When are you supposed to hear from them?”
“Sometime this week.” Sarah tried not to look at the envelope that had arrived yesterday. She pulled away and curled into a ball, her back to her mom and stayed there until the door clicked.
Sarah got up, walked across the room and picked up the envelope. She sat down holding it for a long moment then slowly slit the top, pulled out the single sheet of paper and held it in her lap.
“Yes or no?” Her heart pounded as she finally unfolded the paper.
“Unfortunately, we are unable to ...”
The paper fluttered to the floor as Sarah fell back on the pillows, her arms over her eyes. Her chest tightened as thoughts flitted through her mind like moths around a porch light ... Unfortunately, ... Chloe will be happy ... Mr. Roberts will be disappointed ... not good enough to get in ... Mom will be relieved ... Dad will be sad ... we are unable to ...
Sarah stood up and paced around the room. She picked up her journal to write but the words stuck in her pen. She tried to watch an episode of the Gilmore Girls but her mind darted about like a drunken bat. She wished she could just go somewhere, get away. Thought snippets rolled across her mind like a reader board ...
no hour-long commutes ... no cool video projects ... we are not able to ... not a real artist ... too expensive anyway ... just not good enough ... too scary ... it just doesn’t matter ... I don’t matter ...
Shaking her head, she went to her desk and folded gold-foil origami elephants until her eyes grew too heavy to do more. She kept seeing those words, “Unfortunately, we are unable to ...”
Finally, she crawled under the covers and closed her eyes ... I’m really not going to Stanton. I’m really not good enough. I can’t get in. Impossible ...
Suddenly, crowds of people were shouting and tugging at her.
She was running, falling, trying to get up, trying to call for help ...
Over there! A silver-white horse ...
He looks fast. He can take me away ...
Question: What does Sarah need? What do you think is going to happen next? (Please leave your comments or questions in the Comments section below.)
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 2: Take Me Away! (Available here until 1/20/2016)
The Radiant Question, Joyce WycoffSarah talked and paced around her room while Chloe painted her toenails.
“Mom keeps talking about how difficult it’s going to be to handle the commute while Dad just raves about how cool Stanton will be. Last night he showed me all his oil paintings again. I like them even though they’re all landscapey.
“How come I never see them?” Chloe asked
“Mom won’t let him hang them anywhere except in the guest bedroom. She’s never been much into art.”
“Why didn’t he go to art school?”
“He told me once that he really wanted to but then started working at the shoe store so he could buy a car. I guess he just never got back to it. He acts like this is a second chance or something.”
Sarah exhaled loudly and her hands flailed as she tried to find more words. “What if ... what if I just don’t have what it takes. What if I’m not a real artist. I’ll disappoint everyone.”
“What am I going to do?” Chloe grumbled to herself. “You won’t be here when I need help finding the perfect shoes for the dance. Who’ll go with me to the next Halsey concert or help me with all those history dates,” she continued itemizing complaints in a low monotone.
Sarah sighed, “Mom seems really worried about the money. Maybe this is all too expensive ... ”
A stuffed green turtle struck Sarah across the face. Startled, she looked up to see Chloe glaring at her. “You really are a jerk. You aren’t listening to me at all!”
“Chloe, I’m sorry. It’s just ... well, I just don’t know. Stanton seems so amazing. Did I tell you that one of the project teams wrote and produced a seven-minute video about Malala. Can you imagine actually meeting the youngest Nobel Peace Prize winner?”
“Stop!” Chloe demanded, “I can’t hear one more thing about your precious Stanton.”
Sarah traced the design on the turtle’s back and imagined herself somewhere else ... somewhere in warm water, swimming with the turtles. She shook her head and sighed. “I’m sure I’d never get a chance to be part of something really major like that, anyway. Besides, we’ll ... you know ... we’ll see each other on weekends.”
Chloe turned toward Sarah, her brown eyes sad and damp, “No,” her voice cracked, “No, it will all be different. How will I learn my lines for the school play without you? We’ll never be able to meet for lunch and laugh at the emos who look like they grew up in a basement--”
“--with their ghost skin and black hair,” Sarah finished Chloe’s thought, trying to lighten the mood.
“Really, Chloe, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I would have to get up at 6 every morning and everyone there has all this video experience ... and what if no one likes me or wants to be friends? What if I’m just not good enough?”
Chloe puffed air out of her mouth in her standard expression of dismissal. “Oh, stop being such a dweeb. Of course you’re good enough, who did all the designs for the last three dances and won the Digital Art competition? Of course you’ll get in.”
“But, you know,” Chloe said, glancing sidewise at Sarah, “you could also just stay here with me. There are art classes here, too, you know, and you could work on the yearbook staff.” She paused and then rushed on, “and ... and we could be together!”
Sarah rested her head in her hands and mumbled, “I know. I keep thinking about that. Over and over I keep thinking about that.”
“Arrrgghhhh!” Sarah said, standing up and shaking both fists in the air. “It’s just too complicated. Stanton has all those fun classes and great teachers. Mr. Roberts says it will make all the difference to my future and that I might even get into the Art Institute if I do well at Stanton.“
“See, you do want to go!” Chloe crowed. “I knew it!” her voice trembled. “You can’t wait to get away from here. Away from me! You know I really hate this!” Chloe jerked up off the bed, glared at Sarah and stomped out of the room.
The sound of the door slamming rattled Sarah. She sat down and listened to Chloe’s footsteps on the stairs. Her throat tightened and she wanted to race down the stairs and stop her. Instead she flopped across the bed and buried her face in her pillow. Her thoughts jumbled. She wished someone would just make the decision for her.
Moments later, Sarah’s mom entered the room. “Sarah, what’s going on? Chloe acted really upset. Did you have a fight?”
“Maybe it’s a mistake.” Sarah’s voice was muffled by the pillow.
“What’s a mistake?” her mom asked.
“My, my best ... Chloe hates me.” Sarah’s voice broke. “Everyone thinks I’m, uh, I’m being a diva for even thinking about going off to Stanton.”
Sarah turned toward her mom, “I’m scared. Stanton is so far away. All my friends are going to forget me. And I ... I won’t know anyone.” Sarah sat up with her head in her hands.
“I thought I really wanted to go there, that it would be so amazing. But what if I can’t make it there? What if they don’t like my art?” she whispered.
Sarah’s mom sat on the edge of the bed, “You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she said in an even voice. “You can always stay home and take art classes here.”
Sarah sniffed and looked up. “But, Dad said ...”
“I know what Dad said,” her mother cut in, “but, he’s just remembering how much he wanted to go to art school. This is your life, Sarah, and if you want to stay here with your friends, that’s okay. It would be much easier on you,” she paused before continuing, “... on all of us actually.”
Sarah’s mom spoke a little faster, “It’s a long trip every day and you will be so busy you probably won’t see Chloe much. And, I would miss you, too, you know. It’s so good to have you home every day to watch over Danny.”
“Danny!” Sarah groaned. “Who’ll take care of him after school?”
Sarah’s mom’s back was straight and her tone was even. “I talked to the office about extending my hours, so I can afford to pay Mrs. Griffith to take care of him. They think they can probably adjust my schedule.” She hesitated and then continued, “Of course, it will make it harder to get to Danny’s after-school activities.”
Sarah glanced up at her mom. “I’m sorry, Mom. I forgot how expensive all this is and how much harder it would make it for you. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe I should just stay here. What if I try and I’m just not good enough?”
“Well, the admissions counselor did say that the competition is very fierce and lots of students don’t make it.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go at all. Maybe I won’t even get in.”
“Your father and I want the best for you, Sarah, but you have to make your own decision. When are you supposed to hear from them?”
“Sometime this week.” Sarah tried not to look at the envelope that had arrived yesterday. She pulled away and curled into a ball, her back to her mom and stayed there until the door clicked.
Sarah got up, walked across the room and picked up the envelope. She sat down holding it for a long moment then slowly slit the top, pulled out the single sheet of paper and held it in her lap.
“Yes or no?” Her heart pounded as she finally unfolded the paper.
“Unfortunately, we are unable to ...”
The paper fluttered to the floor as Sarah fell back on the pillows, her arms over her eyes. Her chest tightened as thoughts flitted through her mind like moths around a porch light ... Unfortunately, ... Chloe will be happy ... Mr. Roberts will be disappointed ... not good enough to get in ... Mom will be relieved ... Dad will be sad ... we are unable to ...
Sarah stood up and paced around the room. She picked up her journal to write but the words stuck in her pen. She tried to watch an episode of the Gilmore Girls but her mind darted about like a drunken bat. She wished she could just go somewhere, get away. Thought snippets rolled across her mind like a reader board ...
no hour-long commutes ... no cool video projects ... we are not able to ... not a real artist ... too expensive anyway ... just not good enough ... too scary ... it just doesn’t matter ... I don’t matter ...
Shaking her head, she went to her desk and folded gold-foil origami elephants until her eyes grew too heavy to do more. She kept seeing those words, “Unfortunately, we are unable to ...”
Finally, she crawled under the covers and closed her eyes ... I’m really not going to Stanton. I’m really not good enough. I can’t get in. Impossible ...
Suddenly, crowds of people were shouting and tugging at her.
She was running, falling, trying to get up, trying to call for help ...
Over there! A silver-white horse ...
He looks fast. He can take me away ...
Question: What does Sarah need? What do you think is going to happen next? (Please leave your comments or questions in the Comments section below.)
November 27, 2015
Symbolism: Cranes
Photo: www.true-wildlife.blogspot.comThe crane is a majestic bird, long and graceful in flight and often featured in Asian paintings. Early in Sarana’s Gift we learn that Sarah created a rainbow curtain of a thousand folded, origami cranes and later that her piece of art was titled “Peace Comes in All Colors." The connection between cranes and peace is a common one, enhanced by the story of a young girl injured by the nuclear bomb that was dropped on Japan.
A Thousand Cranes: As the story goes, during WWII, Sadako Sasaki, a young victim of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima, was diagnosed with leukemia from exposure to radiation. There are many versions of her story; one says she decided to fold 1,000 paper cranes as a symbol of peace and hope but was only able to fold 644 before she died of her injuries. Another says her friend folded the cranes for her in hopes of her recovery. Regardless of who folded the cranes, today people of Japanese ancestry as well as many others, carry on the tradition of folding 1,000 cranes in hopes of health, happiness, and peace. There is a memorial statue of Sadako at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park with her holding a single crane. My maternal grandmother is from Hiroshima and we still have relatives there today. They were fortunate and were not harmed by the bomb.
Some Native American Tribes associate the Crane with good luck, peacemaking, leadership and speaking skills while the Chinese consider the crane a symbol of longevity and auspiciousness and folktales from many culture have the crane delivering babies.
How long do you think it took Sarah to fold one thousand origami cranes? Do you like origami? (Please leave your thoughts in the Comments section below.)
There is a legend that says if you fold a thousand cranes, you will get your wish. If you want to fold an origami crane, here’s a video on how to do it.
November 24, 2015
Prologue & Chapter 1: Confusion
Sarana's Gift will officially launch 1/29/2016. I hope you enjoy reading this segment. Also ... I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. Please leave your comments and questions in the Comments section.
The next chapter will post on 12/9/2015 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We would love to share it here on the blog. Send us an email with your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftPrologue & Chapter 1: Confusion (Available here until 2/3/2016)
In the Beginning - photo by joyce wycoff Prologue: In the Beginning
All stories begin in the middle
of a longer story
and live in a place layered with
meaning, magic and mayhem.
This story began long after a monstrous meteorite struck the land, devastating life on earth, leaving massive pits of dinosaur bones to be discovered 65 million years later.
It began long after that flaming space rock created a ring of cenotes which later became sacred, ceremonial pools. It actually began in the murky, undocumented time long before Europeans discovered what they called the "new world."
It began ...
Legend has it that Ix Chel fell in love with Votan, the dark god of war, the only one of the gods not overtaken by her shimmering beauty. Ix Chel tried everything she could think of to attract his attention. However, none of her charms worked. He still ignored her.
It wasn’t until her broken heart set free the creativity within her that she captured his attention and his love.
It might have been a happily-ever-after story, but it didn’t turn out that way and Ix Chel’s loss reverberates to this very day, to the very place where this story begins again and reminds us ...
Chapter 1: Confusion
Turmoil and rose petals swirled down Hummingbird Lane, perfuming the crisp night air and littering the shadowed streets. Soft light glowed from the second floor window of the pale yellow clapboard house at the end of the cul de sac. Sarah Logan and Chloe Brinkman sprawled on Sarah’s bed, as they did most nights.
Sarah’s walls were papered with art and movie posters as well as several large abstract canvases hung at a slant. Behind the bed stretched a rainbow curtain of folded paper cranes made as a school project two years ago.
A beach glass mobile floated over a cluttered desk piled with books, art supplies, CDs and folders of bright origami paper. Rocks, pine cones, dried flowers, shells, driftwood, movie tickets, photos and sketches lined the window sills and other flat surfaces.
On top of the clutter on the desk laid a white, unopened business letter.
Sarah thumbed through her iPhone and stopped at one photo. “Chloe, look at this tree heart. Isn’t it cool?” She pointed the phone at Chloe.
Chloe studied the image for just a second and then closed her eyes again listening to the music, “You mean cool as in constipated, over-rated, out-of-style loser?” She laughed and added, “Doesn’t look much like a heart to me.”
Sarah chuckled. “When was that? Third grade when you came up with that thing about cool?”
She glanced back down at the tree heart. Her smile faded. “Maybe it’s not exactly perfect, but why does it have to be?” Still thinking about the tree heart, she muttered to herself, “That’s me. Not perfect, never quite perfect enough.”
Chloe frowned at the distraction of Sarah’s words. She leaned over and cranked up the volume on the Jambox. When the volume was where she wanted it, she slumped back on the pillows, “Listen ... Imagine Dragons. They are too sick.”
Sarah put down her phone and, without looking at Chloe, remoted the sound back down then moved to an overstuffed chair, picked up her sketch book and draped herself sidewise, legs dangling over the arm. She juggled an anatomy book against her thighs while flipping to a picture she wanted to sketch.
“No! Wait! I’m listening to that.” Chloe jumped up and danced around the room lipdubbing along with the music. Her pink-and-teal-streaked hair swayed as she threw her arms apart miming the recent concert performance they had seen together.
“Remember this one? ... this is my word ... this is my way ... show me a sign ... sweep me away ...
Sarah broke in, “Shhhh. Mom’ll be up here chirping at us again about the noise. She says it makes the plaster crumble.” She picked up a new pencil, still trying to focus on her sketch. Pushing her straight, black hair behind her ear, she tapped the pencil against her bottom teeth and said, “Something about the curve of that deltoid just isn’t right.”
Chloe pouted and fell back across the bed with her arms over her head. “Sarah you’re turning into a suck-up now that you’re going off to Picasso-land. You never want to just moss anymore.”
“I’m hanging out right now,” Sarah replied, still sketching.
Chloe sat up and whined, “No, you’re not,” as she fidgeted with the pinkie-finger-sized plug in her ear.
“You’re drawing. You’re always drawing, or painting or taking photos of things you want to draw or paint. You never have time to just talk. You haven’t even asked me what happened in math this morning.”
Sarah stopped sketching and looked up. “With Jordan?”
“Of course!” Chloe crossed her legs and leaned in toward Sarah. “When we were walking out of class, Jordan said, ‘See ya Friday!’ What do you think that means?” Chloe peered at Sarah in anticipation.
“Isn’t Friday the next time you have math together?” Sarah tossed off and returned to her sketch.
Chloe groaned and fell back on the bed. “You suck, Sarah. You’re becoming a soulless witch.” She leaned up on her elbow and glared at Sarah. “You really are a derp, you know!”
“What does that even mean?” Sarah said, thumping the anatomy book shut.
“It means you used to be fun but now you’re just a boring dumbass.” Chloe’s voice got louder. “You’re the worst kind of jerk to even think about going off to that reachin, artsy-fartsy school. You’re leaving all your friends ... and me ... behind just to do some dumb art.”
“Chlo - ee! It’s just a high school for the arts and it’s only an hour away. It’s not like I’d be going off to Harvard or something. Besides ... ”
“Are you ever going to open it?” Chloe asked, glancing at the envelope.
“No...” Sarah started. “I mean ... yes ... I don’t know. I don’t know what I want it to say.”
Chloe’s face fell and her voice softened. “You know we’ll never even see each other. We’ll never be mains again.”
Sarah moved over to the bed and sat down. “That’s not true, Chloe. I probably won’t even get accepted and even if I do, I don’t know if I’ll go. You’re right. It’s so far away, and I would miss you and ...,” Sarah picked at her fingernails, her voice quavered slightly.
“You’re never going to know until you open that stupid envelope,” Chloe cut in. “I’m sure you got in,” she continued. “Mr. Roberts fell all over himself about that origami dragon scene you made. He said you have Taaallleennnttt with a capital T,” she rolled her eyes as she emphasized the word.
“He sure doesn’t say that to anyone else,” Chloe added with a harsh edge.
”I’m just so confused.” Sarah rested her head in her hands. “Dad wants me to go, but I don’t think Mom does. Mr. Roberts is pushing me but last night Danny burst into tears at the dinner table because he doesn’t want me to go ... .”
“Danny’s eight years old,” Chloe interrupted. “What does he know? Your problem, Sarah, is that you keep worrying about what everybody else wants. When are you gonna just do what you want?” she hesitated and added, grinning, “Or better still what I want you to do,” she laughed and then stared off toward the Catching Fire poster of Katniss shooting an arrow through a ring of fire.
“Remember who the enemy is.” Chloe read from the poster. “Katniss knows,” she added.
“Yeah, Katniss would know. But I don’t.” Sarah smiled weakly and remembered the letter and repeated, “I’m just so confused.”
Question: Why is Sara confused? Have you ever faced a confusing decision? What helped you make it? (Please leave your comments or questions in the Comments section below.)
The next chapter will post on 12/9/2015 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We would love to share it here on the blog. Send us an email with your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftPrologue & Chapter 1: Confusion (Available here until 2/3/2016)
In the Beginning - photo by joyce wycoff Prologue: In the BeginningAll stories begin in the middle
of a longer story
and live in a place layered with
meaning, magic and mayhem.
This story began long after a monstrous meteorite struck the land, devastating life on earth, leaving massive pits of dinosaur bones to be discovered 65 million years later.
It began long after that flaming space rock created a ring of cenotes which later became sacred, ceremonial pools. It actually began in the murky, undocumented time long before Europeans discovered what they called the "new world."
It began ...
long before Spanish conquistadors made their way to Mexico and Central America, lured by stunning tales of golden cities,In that time before all of that, there were countless gods and goddesses. The most striking and creative of all the gods of the Mayan world was Ix Chel, the goddess of the moon and rain, whose name, to our unfamiliar tongues, is pronounced as “ee shel.”
long before Catholic priests built a trail of missions from Mexico into California, unwittingly leaving behind them a dark swath of disease, death and destruction,
long before all of that, when there was simply the world and the people.
Legend has it that Ix Chel fell in love with Votan, the dark god of war, the only one of the gods not overtaken by her shimmering beauty. Ix Chel tried everything she could think of to attract his attention. However, none of her charms worked. He still ignored her.
It wasn’t until her broken heart set free the creativity within her that she captured his attention and his love.
It might have been a happily-ever-after story, but it didn’t turn out that way and Ix Chel’s loss reverberates to this very day, to the very place where this story begins again and reminds us ...
The deeper the pain,
the greater the fear,
the wider the door opens to a new world.
Step through.
Chapter 1: Confusion
Turmoil and rose petals swirled down Hummingbird Lane, perfuming the crisp night air and littering the shadowed streets. Soft light glowed from the second floor window of the pale yellow clapboard house at the end of the cul de sac. Sarah Logan and Chloe Brinkman sprawled on Sarah’s bed, as they did most nights.
Sarah’s walls were papered with art and movie posters as well as several large abstract canvases hung at a slant. Behind the bed stretched a rainbow curtain of folded paper cranes made as a school project two years ago.
A beach glass mobile floated over a cluttered desk piled with books, art supplies, CDs and folders of bright origami paper. Rocks, pine cones, dried flowers, shells, driftwood, movie tickets, photos and sketches lined the window sills and other flat surfaces.
On top of the clutter on the desk laid a white, unopened business letter.
Sarah thumbed through her iPhone and stopped at one photo. “Chloe, look at this tree heart. Isn’t it cool?” She pointed the phone at Chloe.
Chloe studied the image for just a second and then closed her eyes again listening to the music, “You mean cool as in constipated, over-rated, out-of-style loser?” She laughed and added, “Doesn’t look much like a heart to me.”
Sarah chuckled. “When was that? Third grade when you came up with that thing about cool?”
She glanced back down at the tree heart. Her smile faded. “Maybe it’s not exactly perfect, but why does it have to be?” Still thinking about the tree heart, she muttered to herself, “That’s me. Not perfect, never quite perfect enough.”
Chloe frowned at the distraction of Sarah’s words. She leaned over and cranked up the volume on the Jambox. When the volume was where she wanted it, she slumped back on the pillows, “Listen ... Imagine Dragons. They are too sick.”
Sarah put down her phone and, without looking at Chloe, remoted the sound back down then moved to an overstuffed chair, picked up her sketch book and draped herself sidewise, legs dangling over the arm. She juggled an anatomy book against her thighs while flipping to a picture she wanted to sketch.
“No! Wait! I’m listening to that.” Chloe jumped up and danced around the room lipdubbing along with the music. Her pink-and-teal-streaked hair swayed as she threw her arms apart miming the recent concert performance they had seen together.
“Remember this one? ... this is my word ... this is my way ... show me a sign ... sweep me away ...
Sarah broke in, “Shhhh. Mom’ll be up here chirping at us again about the noise. She says it makes the plaster crumble.” She picked up a new pencil, still trying to focus on her sketch. Pushing her straight, black hair behind her ear, she tapped the pencil against her bottom teeth and said, “Something about the curve of that deltoid just isn’t right.”
Chloe pouted and fell back across the bed with her arms over her head. “Sarah you’re turning into a suck-up now that you’re going off to Picasso-land. You never want to just moss anymore.”
“I’m hanging out right now,” Sarah replied, still sketching.
Chloe sat up and whined, “No, you’re not,” as she fidgeted with the pinkie-finger-sized plug in her ear.
“You’re drawing. You’re always drawing, or painting or taking photos of things you want to draw or paint. You never have time to just talk. You haven’t even asked me what happened in math this morning.”
Sarah stopped sketching and looked up. “With Jordan?”
“Of course!” Chloe crossed her legs and leaned in toward Sarah. “When we were walking out of class, Jordan said, ‘See ya Friday!’ What do you think that means?” Chloe peered at Sarah in anticipation.
“Isn’t Friday the next time you have math together?” Sarah tossed off and returned to her sketch.
Chloe groaned and fell back on the bed. “You suck, Sarah. You’re becoming a soulless witch.” She leaned up on her elbow and glared at Sarah. “You really are a derp, you know!”
“What does that even mean?” Sarah said, thumping the anatomy book shut.
“It means you used to be fun but now you’re just a boring dumbass.” Chloe’s voice got louder. “You’re the worst kind of jerk to even think about going off to that reachin, artsy-fartsy school. You’re leaving all your friends ... and me ... behind just to do some dumb art.”
“Chlo - ee! It’s just a high school for the arts and it’s only an hour away. It’s not like I’d be going off to Harvard or something. Besides ... ”
“Are you ever going to open it?” Chloe asked, glancing at the envelope.
“No...” Sarah started. “I mean ... yes ... I don’t know. I don’t know what I want it to say.”
Chloe’s face fell and her voice softened. “You know we’ll never even see each other. We’ll never be mains again.”
Sarah moved over to the bed and sat down. “That’s not true, Chloe. I probably won’t even get accepted and even if I do, I don’t know if I’ll go. You’re right. It’s so far away, and I would miss you and ...,” Sarah picked at her fingernails, her voice quavered slightly.
“You’re never going to know until you open that stupid envelope,” Chloe cut in. “I’m sure you got in,” she continued. “Mr. Roberts fell all over himself about that origami dragon scene you made. He said you have Taaallleennnttt with a capital T,” she rolled her eyes as she emphasized the word.
“He sure doesn’t say that to anyone else,” Chloe added with a harsh edge.
”I’m just so confused.” Sarah rested her head in her hands. “Dad wants me to go, but I don’t think Mom does. Mr. Roberts is pushing me but last night Danny burst into tears at the dinner table because he doesn’t want me to go ... .”
“Danny’s eight years old,” Chloe interrupted. “What does he know? Your problem, Sarah, is that you keep worrying about what everybody else wants. When are you gonna just do what you want?” she hesitated and added, grinning, “Or better still what I want you to do,” she laughed and then stared off toward the Catching Fire poster of Katniss shooting an arrow through a ring of fire.
“Remember who the enemy is.” Chloe read from the poster. “Katniss knows,” she added.
“Yeah, Katniss would know. But I don’t.” Sarah smiled weakly and remembered the letter and repeated, “I’m just so confused.”
Question: Why is Sara confused? Have you ever faced a confusing decision? What helped you make it? (Please leave your comments or questions in the Comments section below.)
November 17, 2015
Starting Next Week: Chapters 1 - 10
Moonsilver by Marina PetroOn 11/24/2015, the first installation of Sarana's Gift will be posted here. A new chapter will be posted every two weeks and will stay online for six weeks. Or, you can get a complete, free, pre-publication pdf copy by leaving a note at Email Us in the column on the right. Hope you enjoy!We love sharing art! If this story inspires a piece of art, please tell us about it in the Email Us form on the right and we'll tell you how to share it with everyone here.
Step Through
Maple Seed, photo by Joyce Wycoff"The deeper the pain, the greater the fear, the wider the door opens
to a new world. Step through." -- Sarana's Gift, Epilogue
November 5, 2015
Free to Reader/Reviewers until January 29, 2016
Sarana’s Gift
, young adult fantasy novella, approximately 27,000 words.Author: Joyce WycoffReviewers: If you would like to receive a free pdf of this novella, please send me your email address in the secure Contact Form at wwww.saranasgift.com.
Something happens to young girls when they reach puberty. It’s as if the influx of hormones is accompanied by an outflow of confidence, courage and creativity.
Sarah Logan has reached that stage and is torn by her decision to apply to a high school for the arts. She thinks that’s what she wants, but she really isn’t sure she’s good enough or even if she’s ready to leave the safety of her known world. Plus, everyone around her has different opinions about whether she should go or stay.
It's a simple story: Sarah has an important decision to make.
Exhausted and stressed by the challenge of making a difficult, life-altering decision, she escapes into a magical land of mystery, meaning, and mayhem.
In that strange world, Sarah becomes Sarana, the unknown part of herself. She meets gods and goddesses, monsters and spirit guides who challenge her with impossible tasks, but who also teach her to use her voice, her inner wisdom and her creativity. It’s a journey that tests her mettle at every turn.
The biggest challenge is: will she be able to find her way back?
Perhaps it’s not such a simple story after all.
***
I hope you enjoy and look forward to hearing what you think about it. joyce
October 28, 2015
Symbolism: Cranes
Crane symbolizes peaceOne of the first symbols you meet in Sarana's Gift is the crane which is a majestic bird, long and graceful in flight and often featured in Asian paintings. Early in the story, we learn that Sarah created a rainbow curtain of a thousand folded, origami cranes and later that her piece of art was titled “Peace Comes in All Colors." What does this tell us about Sarah?
The connection between cranes and peace is a common one, enhanced by the story of a young girl after the nuclear bomb was dropped on Japan.
Origami Crane: Sakura and Zen blog
A Thousand Cranes:
As the story goes, after WWII, Sadako Sasaki, a young victim of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima, was diagnosed with leukemia from exposure to radiation. There are many versions of her story; one says she decided to fold 1,000 paper cranes as a symbol of peace and hope but was only able to fold 644 before she died of her injuries. Another says her friend folded the cranes for her in hopes of her recovery. Regardless of who folded the cranes, today people of Japanese ancestry as well as many others, carry on the tradition of folding 1,000 cranes in hopes of health, happiness, and peace. There is a memorial statue of Sadako at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park with her holding a single crane. My maternal grandmother is from Hiroshima and we still have relatives there today. They were fortunate and were not harmed by the bomb. Some Native American Tribes associate the Crane with good luck, peacemaking, leadership and speaking skills while the Chinese consider the crane a symbol of longevity and auspiciousness and folktales from many culture have the crane delivering babies.
How long do you think it took Sarah to fold one thousand origami cranes?
There is a legend that says if you fold a thousand cranes, you will get your wish. If you want to fold an origami crane, here’s a video on how to do it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSijU52XJ7w
