Old Friends

Friends
old friends
did they Forget me!?

Times
good times
do they Remember!?

Gone
so gone
Forever!?

Pi (a funny poem)

I can square pi
in the blink of an eye!
Said one smart guy
under the bright blue sky

Me too!
said a guy with one shoe
that was blue
he said he could do it before you said moo

The smart guy scribbled furiously nonstop
The other went chop chop chop

the guy with one shoe
threw his answer before you could say moo

it landed on the smart guy's face
leaving a trace

that is why
we put an 'e' at the end of pi!

Snowy Street

Gold street lamps glowed

Downy flakes swept with the wind

Footprints disappear

Creativity Gives Us Wings

Creativity shapes the world,
Giving us wings.

If there is no creativity,
The world is a barren field without color.

Raccoon

I called this one "The gaze".

Timothy Basil Ering

Last Friday, an illustrator named Timothy Basil Ering came to our school. He showed us how he became an illustrator starting from when he was 1 year old! He said he drew everywhere. He told us that he even drew on his homework then quickly added that he still paid attention in class.

After a while he started telling us about the books he made and illustrated. I was surprised at how much an illustrator payed attention to the world and the things that are going on. I think a very funny thing happened in his presentation. He showed us his first detailed sketch of Despereaux and everybody went "aaaaaaawwwwwnn" with admiaration for the cute and adorable little mousy and Timothy Basil Erring said,"Every time! The same reaction! I can remember the pitch and tone of that sound! Every time!" In the background. Some of the kids and teachers started laughing. But, I have to admit, that Despereaux was cute! He was fluffy and looked so shy! When Timothy was done with presentation we had a raffle. Two people won and they both got a free book with Timothy Basil Erring's signature.

I can tell that Timothy is a nice guy and I hope he enjoyed his visit. I certainly DID!!!

The Raining of Leaves

When the wind blows
it rains
Not cold droplets
Not gray beads
It rains
colors
mighty leaves

When the wind blows
it rains
The skies are clear
The birds still fly
It rains
fire
burning near

When the wind blows
it rains
The roads are dry
The cars are dull
It rains
Autumn
rustle,
sigh.

Snow

Flowers were falling from the sky
So delicate, so soft, so bright,
Is this a gift
From heaven?

I took a walk on the snowy path
Snowflakes were whispering
to the trees
I stopped, listening.

Pond

Wind blows the willows,
The pond ripples in reply,
Calm ducks quack, loudly.

I played The Bee

Today I played The Bee (L'Abeille) by François Schubert (of Dresden). While I was playing, I realized my violin was out of tune . It sounded terrible! When I played an A, it sounded like an A flat! The bee sounded more like a fly. I abruptly stopped playing, and announced "I think my violin is out of the tune!". (My dad had tuned it before we came to the concert!) Then someone tuned it, and I played again. It sounded much better.