Martin Bock 30 Rose St. Burlington, VT (Wr.OldWomanUnderShoe Bww M Bock BTV for Friday Jan 13)

Transcription

1 Martin Bock 30 Rose St. Burlington, VT (Wr.OldWomanUnderShoe Bww M Bock BTV for Friday Jan 13) To bww readers: Some of the regular members in the Friday morning workshop may remember my first book for little children: What Kind of Secret? It was a loose leaf picture notebook and coloring book target age 4 to 6. The story was simple; the illustrations complex. Black and white versions of the colored graphics were included to be colored in. Pages were potentially interchangeable; and with the option of colored in pages taking the place of the originals. This submission is my second stab in the genre, but for kids 6 to 9 who are already avid readers. It will be in loose leaf notebook form, illustrations in color and with black and white coloring-in pages included. I ve only completed about 20% of the first draft. The verses are still rough and will receive loads of tightening up. To save ink, I put reduced the size of a few of the illustrations in the text. In the final version, these will be full letter size and ½ letter size. I ll bring some full-size prints to the workshop. The sophistication and strangeness of what kids read these days often amazes me. But then I remind myself that its always been so. As soon as I could comprehend simple sentences, I got earfuls of surreal and gory Grimm s Tales and other nightmarish faerie lore that came with ghastly, full-page illustrations. Not to mention the gobs of sex and violence in the bible I was introduced to before I was 3. I cut my reading teeth on Superman comics; and listened every evening to radio episodes of The Shadow, who knew the evil in men s hearts; and at 9, TV s first (outré at the time) Star Treks. The following generations got harry Potter at under 10 year old, Mutant Ninja Turtles; Dungeons and Dragons; and online gaming. In my opinion, the current crop of kids have something new on their plates - eclectic options. They can choose immersion in anything 1

2 and everything that was ever printed or digitized; and yet their generation will be the first, I think, to transcend the worlds on pages and screens, to live more actively in VR events of their own creation. I am not particularly an advocate. Nonetheless, it s coming. The 50 Billion $$$ s +, already invested by Google-Facebook-Samsung and on and on, so far, weren t for nothing. I fear that the strangeness in my moral fable, below won t hold a candle to the bizarre outlandish environments that will seduce my grandkids a few years from now. By comparison, my attempt to trigger their imaginations with printed pages is inevitably tame stuff. I think, though, that Imagination is a constant that survives, and imbues any media with identification, and meaning. That s why so many of us read the book first before going to the derivative movie I think all mysteries are fathomable except for two: Stillness; and Creation. About 50 years ago, I made a sketch of a woman about 2 Inches by 2, with a shoe resting on her head. I noticed it recently on my desk God only knows where it had been. I wrote the first lines of Miss Undershoe s tale, without any concept of a story beyond them: There was an old woman who lived under a shoe. She had no children and she didn t know what to do about that shoe. And then a few more lines followed and then a few more. The giant guardians and the parrot of paradox emerged as I drew the illustration of Miss U. s fall. Originally, they were just visual elements of a graphic; but once mentioned in a single line, I felt a need to fill them out as characters who now define much of the plot. Both the drawings and the text are evolving. It s premature to expose them. But I promised to submit some of what I m currently working by today, for next Friday s Workshop. Perhaps even in such skeletal form, the drawings, characters, and nascent plot may be sufficient to trigger some inner child s imagination? I think that many of my 3-D photos will bring the story alive. I ll bring some of those along, and include The River of Color a concept photo through which the main character must learn to swim to get to where she will find the lost children. 2

3 Of all the kind of feedback, I would most like to hear if and where this story s style and graphics are derivative in a style already done and familiar. Obviously, every line of text and sketch needs much rework. <><><><><> Miss Undershoe Finds The Lost Children There was an old woman who lived under a shoe. She had no children and she didn t know what to do about that shoe. Original Derived concept. 3

4 Not just the one above, but a foot to the right; and a foot to the left. That adds up to 3 feet, she said. Above and beside her they were three shoes in the morning, They were day all day long and when she went to bed. The poor old woman couldn t remember when the shoe Stepping down on her hadn t been on top of her. She said to herself, What could possibly be worse? Nor could any of her neighbors recall the old woman Without the shoes above and beside her. So eventually, naturally, she got a nickname. Everyone called her Miss Undershoe; and soon it was shortened to Miss U. When she got her new name Miss U. was embarrassed - So ashamed she thought she would burst. That answers my question, mumbled she to herself. What was worse is now worst! In desperation, one day, she said to the shoe, I really feel foolish but I have to ask, 4

5 You owe me an answer, Whose foot are you? From above, she heard a shoe kind of voice say, You wouldn t believe me if I told you. She replied, It s hard to believe I have you on my head. But you are up there for the whole world to see. So just tell me! The shoe said, I d prefer not to Miss U. Miss Undershoe pondered upon her dilemma, Who ever heard of a spoiled brat shoe? I heard that said the voice from above; I ll give you a clue - I hear everything you think Through the soles of my feet. So the old woman thought silently up to the shoe, I don t like riddles. I can t figure it out. But what about this Mr. stubborn footwear, You cannot stand when I lie down. I ll do it right now. I ll go right to bed and not get up even for supper, Until I know just whose foot are you. OK! came the voice down into her head, You asked for it. Don t say I didn t try not to say it. I am your very own. It s not me, but you down there Where I should be but am not. You see. It s your own foot, Who I am, that s flattening your hat. 5

6 Now that you know, I have some advice, Or I should say a warning. Whatever you do, do not look down. She counted on her fingers 1 shoe on the right. One on the left. And 1 where it s always been, on top of my head. Why, that s 3. I should have only 2. There s one too many to be just me. Hey you up there! If you are mine, then who else is this who s in on this? Her foot did not answer, and so of course, she just had to peek, even though she knew she should not. But wouldn t you too in the same situation look where your feet should be if they weren t? She looked underneath and OOPS!!!! Nothing there. There was nothing to hold up Miss Undershoe And down she went, like a spider on her thread. Down And Down And Down And down And Down With no end in sight. She said, Definitely this is even worse than the worst. I told you so said her foot overhead. 6

7 Shut up, she said, and mind your own business. The shoe answered, who else s business is this? After a very long time of going Under and Under and Under and Under Miss Undershoe could see only vastness underneath her. Down, Down, Down she went gently, She fell past stone guardians contemplating Their next meal, a million years from now, in the future. (This illustration will print on it s own facing page colors to be adjusted for effect.) At first, she fell fast, but as she got deep Her fall slowed and she floated just like A dandelion seed tossed on the breeze; She drifted past a towering bird perched 7

8 On the stone walls, awake and alert. The bird watching Miss U. on her way down says welcome, I am the speaker for all in this wall and each and every one on the ground under. Say something to me and I will speak it for you in a voice that s just exactly like yours, Only louder. First, please tell me who you are; And why are you drifting toward the bottom of the world. Not so fast, buster, Miss Undershoe says. I don t talk to strangers. You go first and tell me your name and where is this place that I am before I give any answers to you. I am the parrot of paradox who repeats what you say in your tiny voice; and says it to others so you can be heard like this, the gargantuan parrot squawked, in tones that thundered and echoed and echoed and echoed and echoed and echoed.. Like This! 8

9 Not So Fast Buster Not so Fast Buster Not so Fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster Not So fast Buster whispered the walls. Miss U. spoke again but as noiselessly as she could: You first. What kind of name is that for a parrot, and where is this place that you come from called paradox. 9

10 Where is this paradox? Where is this paradox? You ask, You ask. It s not a where but a what. A paradox is something That cannot be until it is said as if it were not. What? Said the woman. I do not understand. That is exactly what I mean. I ll give you a sample Of a thing that is true that cannot be so. You are here. yes I am here, it s true as true can be. I do not know where I am though. Just so, said the bird, not ifs ands or buts about it. Now the huge squawk that had come out from inside of the bird began to awaken the mile high rock men and women. Their eyes, the sizes of houses opened and watched the old woman fall. She tumbled and spun like a leaf on the wind. Now that they ve come out, Now that they ve come out of centuries of slumber, it s is my duty and privilege to make introductions. 10

11 Guardians of earth under sky, here is Miss Undershoe, Going down. Miss U. I present you the giants of protection. They liked her immediately and ever so mildly they smiled quietly And said in smaller voices than her own, Welcome child, We are so glad to find you falling before us. Child? Said Miss U. Do you hear what you say I wasn t born yesterday or the day before. I ve had my own foot on my head for a hundred years and probably more. But the cliffs echoed silently to her inner being alone; They said as one voice, What was then is not now; You are in amongst us for an important reason. You need both your legs underneath If you are to land on your own two feet. The times of your oldness and being weighed downnness are gone. And so it was that when she looked down she had both of her legs In the place where they should have been all along. What reason could there possibly be for all of this? She thought. She heard their message in the silence. You will know then what you cannot know now. 11

12 But one clue is due and we ll all tell you true. You fell down to find the lost children. If you find the way out, will you take them with you? Miss Undershoe thought it over and over. She thought how can this be? I seem to have lost myself, you see. The quietest voice of all spoke this Everything that ever was lost is just where it is. If something or someone is to be found, It must first be mislaid or it can t be recovered. How true, how true squawked the parrot. How True How True How True 12

13 How True How True How True How True How True How True How True I don t know what to think she thought And she fell into a very most deep kind of sleep. She d begun descending in the late Spring When everything green was awakening; But she didn t awaken until it was Autumn. W hen softly afloat like brown leaves she alit on the bottom. This time, when Miss Undershoe looked down, What she saw was her feet and solid ground. She counted again and yet still there were three. That s one too many for anyone. The foot that had been hers overhead and one more Were appropriately the things that were holding her up. But the one on the left was yet an extra. On close inspection it was now apparent, that the left foot next to her had a ski boot on it. Oh dear, said Miss U. No kidding! It said. What do you think is worse now you deep in this cave with 2 feet to walk on? Or me by your side with no one to walk me? 13

14 You ve got a point, Miss Undershoe told the boot. While I used to live every day of my life under my foot. You, Mr. Ski Boot don t have even so much a As a head to stand on. Do you know what this means? The Ski Boot asked. I haven t a clue replied Miss U. Said the ski-booted foot, you will have to carry me. Why should I? The woman shouted in distress. I ve been holding up My own foot for my whole life. Now that I m free, why Must I also uphold you too? Because, said the boot, it s the right thing to do. I will carry you if you tell me one thing. Shoot, said the Shoe. I ll tell you true. Whose foot are you? If I knew I d tell you. But I don t really know. Oh isn t it awful I never thought of it before: I seem to be an orphan sort of foot in a ski boot, down in the deepest cave anybody s ever heard of. You thought you had it bad. But now you know how much worse Than the worst of the worst it could be. 14

15 I guess you are right Miss Undershoe said. She lifted the third foot as she shoul and looked up. What she expected to see was not what she saw. Instead of blue ski, white clouds and sun yellow, She was taken aback. The heavens were green, the clouds purple and three suns shone, where one would do. One was brilliant aquamarine. One was white as the whitest bone ever seen; And the biggest and brightest one, shiny black. I think I must not be where I came from and yet It s true as true can be. I am here. Here I am. But how, oh how will I ever get back? 15