Creative Writing: Reflecting on 2020

ARTS

Creative Writing: Reflecting on 2020

SourcePoint's creative writing program has been meeting virtually since the coronavirus pandemic began last spring. A recent assignment was to write about things that have occurred because of the pandemic, including resulting feelings, ability to pivot, and how challenges were overcome.

This Time Out of Time The novelty wore off a long time ago and then the settling-in started. It is a heaviness that I feel in my body, as well as my spirit. I think that means it’s a soul thing. At the beginning I played with minor distractions: I stopped coloring my hair in March, bought too many canned goods, and changed all of the cabinet hardware in my bathroom and kitchen. Thinking I was spending too much time online, I deleted Candy Crush from my tablet and then put it back. Twice. My point is that small addictions have taken hold.

The presidential election was a major distraction. When it became clear that my candidate won, I felt a physical and mental release that is hard to describe. But the new freedup space in my psyche provided room for existing anxieties to grow and for new ones to move in and flourish. Fear has become a permanent resident that I don’t know how to evict. I have tried owning that fear, ignoring it, and even running away from it. But I can’t run far enough or fast enough. My last resort is to accept it and extend a peace pipe. In other words, learn to live with my fears. So I have come full circle. I’m looking for distractions again to crowd fear or at least make it uncomfortable while it lives in my bones. Connie Hill is a member of SourcePoint.

Contentment The year 2020 has prompted me to take my pulse to see how well I’m coping. To my continual amazement, I think I’m doing pretty well. I’ve had some minor disappointments, such as being selected as an Ohioana author, but then the in-person event was canceled. Like others, I sometimes feel relatively friendless, but then remind myself that emotion is simply because my friends and I can’t be together in person as we once were.

I discovered I have the gift of contentment, and it probably is hereditary. Instead of a gloomy pallor during these months, I spend my time contemplating my ancestors' lives about whom I have researched and written. I consider my Polish family, who, during World War II, lived inside the territory of the largest SS training camp outside of Germany. For six years, they and all the other villagers were forced laborers under the Nazis. I think of my widowed great grandmother, Jadwiga, sitting in her two-room house with dirt floors and a large ceramic oven for heat while V2 missiles were launched over the roof. Her nerves must have frayed each time she heard their whistle and the inevitable thunder as it crashed in some field nearby. Jadwiga was not only an emotionally strong woman, but was also incredibly brave and generous. She covertly took food to starving neighbors who were forced to work on the Germans’ farms that once were theirs. When the Nazis were attempting to arrest her priest, he hid in the roof of the empty church right across the street from Jadwiga’s humble home. It was Jadwiga who covertly brought food and supplies to the priest for his six months in that roof home. If the Germans had discovered Jadwiga’s actions, they would have shot her immediately. I think of my 10th great grandfather, Richard Warren, one of the Mayflower passengers in 1620. Separated from his wife and children, he experienced the miserable two-month journey followed by months of a cold New England winter. He and others foraged in bitter weather searching for the best settlement, and then cared for his fellow passengers who were ill, half of whom did not survive. During this pandemic, no one asks me to do anything so brave as Jadwiga’s or Richard Warren’s courageous actions. Just wear a mask, avoid crowds, and stay at home as much as possible. When I start to feel sorry for myself, I reflect on all the people in history who found themselves under unthinkable situations and oppression. Some likely withered, but most found the emotional strength to take their situation day by day. So, here I sit with my computer, television, books, and friends and family on Zoom to help me pass my days. Complaining and feeling down just doesn’t seem fitting or honoring to millions of people in history who suffered through real hardships. And so, I strive to simply be content. Donna Gawell is a member of SourcePoint.

My Tribe A quote by Nanea Hoffman: "When you find people who not only tolerate your quirks, but celebrate them with glad cries of "Me, too," be sure to cherish them. Because those weirdos are your tribe." You, my fellow writers, are my tribe. We share a common bond, namely, the love of writing. We share tears over powerful emotions beautifully expressed. We nod our heads in silent agreement as another writer expresses what we also feel. We laugh when a fellow writer shows us the absurdities in our own lives. We are sometimes envious, it's okay to admit it, when another writer reads words that we wish we had written. We learn from one another and are grateful for the lessons.

Over the past months I have discovered that I sorely missed our jokes, our laughter, and the camaraderie of our writing group. Most of all, I have missed hearing the words of my fellow writers, each with their own unique voice. You are indeed my tribe and I have missed you. Judy Titus is a member of SourcePoint.

Eight Months and Counting Day by day, month by month, our pandemic year marches forward. Sometimes it is almost possible to forget about it and at other times it is almost too much to bear.

As March and April flowed into May the days turned brighter and the perennials pushed through the ground. The peonies sprang from the soil. We created new gardening beds and talked of future flowers and shrubs. We made plans to relocate some plants. We power washed the house in June and in July we took a trip to Colorado to see the family. Then suddenly there was a chill in the air and it felt like fall. We pulled the last vegetables from the garden and talked about what needed to be done before winter returned. The car was serviced, tires purchased, and smoke alarm batteries changed. The snowblower was cranked up. As the pages of the calendar turn, the coronavirus marches across the country leaving a terrible swath of destruction in its wake. Now it is impossible to forget about it. In the early months I knew no one who had been touched by the disease. Today I know many. During these crazy months I’ve learned a few things. I can

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trim my hair without crying. Meeting friends in a parking lot with a lawn chair and a brown bag lunch is better than a phone call. Meeting my book club members in the Planet Fitness parking lot under the sprawling shade trees is even more fun than meeting them over dinner in a crowded and noisy restaurant. And the wine is cheaper. I have learned that ordering online is too easy. I am on a first name basis with the Amazon driver.

I’ve also learned that I function more productively with a schedule. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been anything that remotely resembles a schedule during the past eight months. I’ve learned that barricading myself with a fortress of carbohydrates has a poorly desired effect. The muffin top sitting just about my waistband expanded into a double donut. I’ve learned that one should not rely on the United States Postal Service. Or perhaps one should not rely on the Bureau of Motor Vehicles. My tags and registration expired in late September. Thinking it was safer to mail in the renewal rather than stand in a crowded line wearing my mask, I dropped the renewal in the mail on Aug. 24. When the tags did not arrive by Oct. 1 I made a trip to the BMV. After a 90-minute wait my number was called. I was told that there was a 10- to 12-week backlog and to sit tight. It will show up eventually, I was informed. And besides, the governor has extended the expiration date to Dec. 1. This wasn’t the news I expected to hear. My husband wanted to drive to Indiana to check on some property that we own there. I said driving through Ohio on expired tags is one thing, but will that be overlooked in Indiana?

We didn’t drive to Indiana. Two days before Thanksgiving, the tags appeared in the mailbox. Later that I night, I heard the governor extended the expiration date to July 1, 2021. Just when I need to renewal my driver’s license. As we inch toward winter I will need to be ever vigilant about my mental health. I will engage with others by phone, FaceTime, and Zoom. I will rely on my husband for lively and witty conversation. I will read. I will write. Above all else, I will be grateful. Donna Bingham is a member of SourcePoint.

See CREATIVE on page 24.

Creative From page 23

PANDEMIC A muffled voice drifted across the room, from a little boy sitting on a child’s chair. “Papa, what was it like before we all had to wear masks and stay away from each other?” I adjusted my face mask, and began to tell my great-grandson about the differences between my decades on earth and the way it is today. “My boy, that is a very good question. From the day I was born up until last year, I never had to wear a mask. I rode a crowded bus to school and had classmates sitting close by in all directions. We never gave a thought to drinking out of a fountain in the hall, or sitting next to someone to eat our lunches. I went to a packed church on Sundays without fear of getting sick, instead of the drive-in services we now have, or watching services on TV. It was fun to eat in a restaurant instead of carryouts, or cooking at home. I always enjoyed grocery shopping so I could pick out the freshest fruit and milk out of the cooler, but now I either have someone else shop for me and deliver it to my door or I go to the store and someone with a mask places the groceries in the back of my car. Sometimes the bananas are too ripe or the milk is not as fresh or I get a substitution I don’t want, but at least I have avoided getting the virus so far. I used to go to the mall in inclement weather and walk among the crowds, window shopping as I went. Sometimes I went into crowded stores to buy something I wanted, instead of having Amazon deliver it! I remember going to movie theaters with long lines to buy tickets, but now I watch movies on TV. I sure miss the theater popcorn! We used to have large family gatherings to celebrate holidays, birthdays, or just for fun. Now we call one another or use the computer to see one another. I miss the hugs and kisses. I traveled to Europe, Asia, Canada, Mexico, Central America, and Australia without fear of catching the virus. I have accumulated free nights at hotels and free flights on airlines that are not being used. Now I only travel by car, taking my own packed lunch or ordering carryout. It was always fun to visit nurseries to pick out plants for my garden and yard. Now I order flower seeds for pickup and do not go into the store to buy shrubs or trees. This year I didn’t have the array of tulips, peonies, and many others blooming, but instead I had hundreds of beautiful zinnias. One of the biggest changes to me is that I have not been to a barbershop since last March, for fear of getting the virus. My hair is longer than it has ever been, and that look is 'growing on me!' Now, my dear Travis, I don’t want you to be feeling sad about all this. After all, we are still able to be together as we are, to talk, and to share our love. We have enough food to eat, nice homes to live in, cars to take us where we want to go, freedom to worship as we wish, computers and TVs to let us explore the world and teach us what we need to know. We live in the land of the free, and are able to choose the pathways our lives will follow. We are able to enjoy the wonders of nature all around us each and every day. Best of all, you are here with me today so I can tell you in person how much I love you! One day, we will conquer the pandemic, and our lives will go back to normal again." Travis first came to visit me with a sad face, but now he was beaming, as he shouted out, “I love you, Papa, and when I grow up, I want to be just like you!” I am indeed blessed.

Donald E. Pearse Sr. is a member of SourcePoint.

Forging Civil Discourse The anvil spews conflicted elements. The hammer melds all doubt. Stray shards of enlightenment thrust javelins into the cauldron of thought. The demise of inertia accelerates any intrinsic idea. Wordsmithing any biased consensus enhances polite coexistence. In conversation waning doubt allows compromised opinions roiling in the cauldron to be measurably ladled out. Ubiquitous Wisdom counsels meritoriously the mindful art of speaking eclectically. Emerson Laird is a member of SourcePoint.

FUN & GAMES

Logic Riddles

Solve these logic riddles to stimulate your brain. They require logical thinking and may involve math.

If a wheel has 64 spokes, how many spaces are there between the spokes?

You buy me taken apart, to redo what has been undone. Four of my pieces have one sharp corner, the rest of them have none. What am I?

What is the next letter in the sequence: BCDFGH__?

If you were to put a coin into an empty bottle and then insert a cork into the neck, how could you remove the coin without taking out the cork or breaking the bottle?

How many times can you subtract the number 5 from 25?

I am four times as old as my daughter. In 20 years time I shall be twice as old as her. How old are we now?

You live in a one-story house made entirely of redwood. What color would the stairs be?

Always in you, sometimes on you; if I surround you, I can kill you. What am I?

Five apples are in a basket. How do you divide them among five girls so that each girl gets an apple, but one apple remains in the basket?

10.Which of the following words don't belong in the group and why? Corset, Coster, Sector, Escort, Courts

11.What common English verb becomes its own past tense by rearranging its letters?

12.Which word is the odd one out: Seventy, Brawl, Clover, Proper, Carrot, Swing, Change, Travel, Sacred, Stone?

13.What has to be broken before it can be used?

14.I am something people love or hate. I change people's appearances and thoughts. If one takes care of themself,

I will go up even higher. To some people, I will fool them.

To others, I am a mystery. Some people might want to try and hide me, but I will show. No matter how hard people try, I will never go down. What am I?

Sudoku

EASY

HARD

See Sudoku Solutions on page 29.