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.)
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