Star Wars: Iconic Inspiration

Yesterday was May the 4th which is also known as Star Wars Day. In our Podcast, we talked about the age-old question, “Star Trek or Star Wars?” I don’t really see the debate. They are two completely different entities, to me. I didn’t grow up in a house divided. My parents were equally nerdy when it came to science fiction. I remember watching reruns of the original Star Trek on cable with my dad and the original Star Wars on VHS tapes with my mom.

That being said, I wasn’t a huge fan of the Star Wars franchise until the Phantom Menace came out in 1999. It was the summer after my freshman year in high school, and I saw it for the first time when I attended band camp in Wichita Falls, Texas. It wasn’t that the film was that great. Looking back on the second trilogy as an adult, I find some of the scenes to be cringeworthy (especially in Attack of the Clones), and I think the original trilogy is more iconic and long-lasting. However, the special effects in the Phantom Menace were groundbreaking at the time. I know when you think of 1999 you don’t really think of groundbreaking special effects in movies but it was the Phantom Menace that paved the way for modern digital effects and CGI monsters. 

It was those special effects in the Phantom Menace that mesmerized me and interested me in the original trilogy and science fiction in general, which heavily influenced my future writing and interest in world-building. I went out and bought World-Building by Steven Gillett and the Dictionary of Imaginary Places. My writing became heavily influenced by planet exploration and the idea of building my own space opera. Star Wars also influenced my reading trends as I grew older. I began to read science fiction works such as Fahrenheit 451 and Ender’s Game. To this day, I credit Star Wars for my interest in science fiction writing.

Aside from my new love for Star Wars as the prequel trilogy started to hit the movie theaters, I didn’t think much about the Star Trek franchise until the movie remake starring Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto hit the big screen. As stated before, I had seen many Star Trek episodes with my father growing up, but I never sat down and watched all of them. So, I suppose you could say, if I had to choose, I would choose Star Wars over Star Trek.

I want to hear from my readers. Do you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek? How do you celebrate Star Wars Day? Please, let’s continue the conversation in our Facebook Group: MMC Chat. Also, check out our Facebook Page.

See you next time for Revenge of the Fifth…

Writing My Own Poetry

Hi! It’s Cindy again, and I’m celebrating our week of poetry with a few poems I have written for my One Little Word projects. I was very excited about the prospect of writing poetry for my OLW because I am a writer at heart. I’m sure that desire must have been put in my head by The Beatles’ “Paperback Writer,” and I remember writing poetry and short stories for fun as early as the fifth grade. There was a time when I seriously wanted to be a novelist. The love of creative writing has stayed with me my entire life, and I happily journal long stories in my scrapbooks and other projects.

The first two poems I’m sharing today are from last fall when my word was “Explore.” I was so excited to write poetry, I actually went off prompt to create one on my own just to test out my prowess. The second poem uses the “Mad-Lib”-style fill-in-the-blank format suggested by Liz, the instructor for that month. I will say that the first was much easier to write than the second, because I started with no specific format or intentions, but simply let my mind go where it must. The fill-in-the-blank format was much more challenging, because the questions and blanks didn’t really seem to go with my word, so it wasn’t until I deconstructed the worksheet and reassembled the lines in a different order that I was able to make the poem make sense. Overall, I’m quite delighted by the results, and it was a fun challenge, so I thought I’d share both poems with you, as well as a similar worksheet so you can make your own poem like this.

The Girl

She’s still there, the young girl,

Traumatized by poverty…abuse…neglect.

Longing for love, looking for acceptance.

Desperate…anxious…alone.

Always trying to be seen,

To be heard…to be valued.

Never knowing who to trust. Is it real?

Afraid, afraid, afraid

Of being let down…disappointed…

Abandoned yet again.

So many mistakes.

Unwilling to change it

For fear of losing the good.

Forgiving, but wary.

Tired, but energized.

Going, going, going

Moving…searching…exploring.

Damaged and yet so resilient,

So optimistic…so hopeful.

Working…waiting,

And trying, trying, trying

To build the life

She thinks she deserves.

I AM

I am a map unfurled,

Open, inviting, and calling

To the adventurer in my soul.

I hold the weight of the world

And the hope

For a better tomorrow.

I am crafting beautiful moments,

Laughing with my family

Until my sides hurt,

And planning more joy

In our everyday lives.

I reach toward the sunlight

Glinting through the trees,

The carefree splashing of the river

As it wanders through the canyon,

And the peaceful solitude

Of being here…now.

I am hopeful and afraid.

I hold cherished memories

Of friends and family,

Realizing that now

Is all that truly exists

And that the purpose

I am searching for

Is already in me.

And I am learning

How to understand myself.

This year, we once again have a poetry prompt, but for this one, we are being called to hold a conversation with our word and then use a worksheet questionnaire to grow the “bones” of our poem. I really enjoyed this process because it pushes me into a different way of looking at my word and a different approach to the poem I wrote.  Here is the one I wrote this year:

Reach

 

In the pitch-black dark of my soul,

I sit…

Alone with my thoughts,

Crowded

By all the tasks I cannot finish,

All the things I cannot do.

Haunted by the spectres of my past,

The ghosts that have kept me silent,

Boxed in,

Oppressed,

Controlled.

Dampening my light

And keeping me frozen

In this safe place.

Unmoving.

Somewhere out of reach

In the dark

Are all the things I want.

I try to reach for them,

But the way is treacherous.

“Look for the joy,”

A voice whispers beside me.

“There is joy in everything,

Even in this dark.

Embrace this moment,

Feel the life that is here

All around you.

Trust that you are 

Exactly where

You are supposed to be,

And that whatever happens

Is supposed to happen.

Be here – now.

Because now is all there is.

There is only now.

Relax and let your light shine.

Let it light up

Everything around you.

No one has the power to control you.

No one can silence your cry.

Everything you need to heal

Is already inside you.

And everything you desire

Is within your reach.

Reach.”

I encourage you to give this style of poetry writing a try. It’s much easier than you think and I know you’ll be surprised at the outcome. To get you started, I have created a fill-in-the-blank worksheet similar to the one I used to write last year’s “I Am” poem. Give it a try and share your results on our MMC Chat group. I’d love to see what you wrote!

Cups and What They Represent in My Life

Cups symbolize many things in modern culture today. It’s amazing to think this simple three-letter word, cup, has so many meanings. At the beginning, when I was first drafting my ideas for this prompt, I was really stuck. I was not ready to take on a daunting task of research into an unfamiliar topic, or do a lot of deep soul diving. I kept saying to myself, “Cups, cups, cups….” and nothing extraordinary would come up. Varying images of drink ware, bras, and movies with cups as a central theme in them (Monty Python’s The Holy Grail and M. Night Shyamalan's Signs, both fantastic films), seemed to keep blocking any other thoughts from developing. My mental cup was full of all the wrong things. Ok, think, brain…

Immediately my first thought that came up was a nice warm cup of coffee – like mother, like daughter. What can I say, it is my favorite beverage. I have a lot of favorite cups and specific types of cups for my various favorite beverages. Growing up my mom had these old aluminum cups that were passed down in her family. I was only ever interested in drinking milk from them. I could taste the cup in the drink if I put anything else in these special cups. It almost seemed that the cup could make the milk colder. As a kid, anytime I invited a friend over, I was sure to show off our amazing aluminum milk cups. Still to this day, mom has some updated aluminum cups and I poured Reyna’s first glass of milk at “Lulu’s” in one to see if she would enjoy the sensation. 

I am the same way with my other drinks. I have a whole cabinet of cups, but I only like to drink out of maybe six of them, mostly because they have lids and keep my drink hot or cold. More metal cups – it must be my thing. My husband, on the other hand, is a collector of cups. He sees them when he goes thrifting and will pick up oddities, collectibles and souvenir glasses from other people’s vacations - places he has never even been before. I roll my eyes because I don’t understand the compulsion, but I too, continue to add to the collection. Before living with Travis, my cupboard was neat and my drinking vessels were organized by purpose and style. Now they are just tossed in there every which way, and I just hang my head in defeat; this is how my husband likes to store them. I gave up. I was just wasting time every day going in after him to organize them. 

My Hot Mess of Cups

This year before the Christmas holiday, I purchased several themed mugs. I only used them during the Christmas season, and then packed them away with the rest of the decorations. It was fun to have a cute mug every day to enjoy my favorite beverage. To me, the cup symbolizes comfort and routine. For my husband, it represents nostalgia, fantasies of travel, and brands that he identifies with. 

I have other memories that involve a cup. One is an especially memorable moment with my grandfather, Poppy. I remember nervously holding a disposable cup full of crushed ice and feeding it to him, with a disposable teaspoon while he lay incoherent in a hospital bed. Mom and I had rushed to see him, and we got there in the middle of the night. He was in and out all evening. The doctors didn’t think he was going to make it. In feeding him ice cubes, I felt insecure, my only experience had been spoon feeding my baby brother. He hadn’t been old enough to judge me if I was doing it wrong. It meant a great deal to me to feed my grandfather ice cubes, though. In my mind, his life depended on it, and it might be the last time I spent with him. Caring for my Poppy in that moment had felt like the most mature and grown up task I had ever undertaken. I realized in that moment of awkwardness and insecurity that the tables had turned. I don’t remember the incident (for obvious reasons), but I have the photo, which I cherish – my grandfather had spoon fed me baby food, and it had been a big deal, so someone captured it on film. My grandmother would always mention how he had never fed his kids, but he had willingly fed me, his first granddaughter. 

Circa 1984

And yet, the cup, with its versatility, can easily invoke disorienting feelings. Méret Oppenheim’s piece titled Object sends ripples of dislike through many viewers. It’s a tea cup covered in fur! That's a whole lot of “no” for me, as it is with many people. I have a thing about textures. If you haven't the slightest idea what I am talking about, you should check it out; it is located at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. This juxtaposition started a huge buzz! The whole concept of a commonly useful object being altered to induce sensations that it would not typically otherwise invoke from the observer is exactly why it is considered an important piece of our art history. The whole purpose is to get you to feel and to think! I’m not here to dispute what art is or isn’t, but just to marvel at the powerful suggestions this piece of artwork induces. I remember the first time I cracked open an art textbook and found an image of this piece. I literally shuddered, my nose tickled, and I swear I mentally coughed up a fur ball. It’s just a cup, like any other cup, but it holds a much deeper meaning. 

Sometimes a cup can bring on the sense of victory. We have used cups as symbolism for our trophies since the days of the Roman Empire. When someone was given an award for victory, they were given olive oil, hence the trophy cup imagery. I still, to this day, remember when the Dallas Stars, my local hockey team, won the Stanley Cup Finals. Talk about a big cup, it weighs over thirty pounds and looks more like a bowl. Tradition allows each player to spend one day with the trophy. Our boys took that cup on a rager and punted it into a swimming pool, and that was not the first time it had been taken for a swim! I do like the idea of the players taking the cup out for a joyride to celebrate. Maybe we should call it the Flat Stanley Cup.

Stanley Cup 1930

Although this writing exercise was a challenge, I did enjoy just picking my brain for a moment. I challenge you to do the same! Whether it is a measuring cup, k-cup, something that’s not your cup of tea, tarot cup, finals cup, or bra cup for that matter, there are memories and feelings that the word cup invokes. It’s an everyday item that everyone uses, but we rarely give much attention. Do you have any special memories that involve a cup? What does the word cup draw up in your mind? Let me know in the comments!