The Puzzling Me project was our very first project of the year! In this project we learned how to write a first person perspective memoir of an event that happened to us recently and then we decorated five puzzle pieces in a way that would artistically depict our stories or us. When all these puzzle pieces were finished, we put them together in little put together puzzles and hung them in front of our classroom.
The memoir below is the one I wrote. It tells of a time from the summer before tenth grade when I went to a festival called Lightning in a Bottle but, rather than being a simple, fun event, it became a roller coaster that literally changed my life, again.
The memoir below is the one I wrote. It tells of a time from the summer before tenth grade when I went to a festival called Lightning in a Bottle but, rather than being a simple, fun event, it became a roller coaster that literally changed my life, again.
Lightning in a Bottle
I expected it to be fun. I expected it to be magical. I expected it to be perfect. It was not. I was going to camp. I was going to dance. I was going to energize, cleanse, meditate, have fun. I did.
Lightning in a Bottle. Leave it Better. Leave it Beautiful.
I had been looking forward to the festival for two years and it was finally time to go. Corle’s Nissan Versa was finally packed with our food, tents, clothes, and other necessities. Everyone but my mom left the house together. Our mom had left earlier that day to set up her art installation and we were to meet her at the festival. I was determined to have fun. I expected it to be perfect.
We got to the festival and immediately set off finding a good place to camp and our mother. It was not easy. Communication with our mother was a difficult because she was busy with her art. Corle began to get frustrated and worried but we assumed it was a passing thing. Like it always was. We let it be.
When we got settled, we checked in with our mom and started exploring the festival. Everything about it was beautiful. We strolled through the art and illusions, sat down to some music, and walked through the little shop booths. It was peaceful and fun. We enjoyed ourselves. It would have been perfect if our mother was there but she was busy and we understood that. We still enjoyed ourselves without her. I really thought we did.
Some peoples’ emotions are very hard to read.
My sisters and I went to bed in our tents at around midnight. There was loud music and the ground was not like our beds at home but we slept from exhaustion.
The next morning we woke up cheerful, our mother greeted us.
“Get dressed and eat something then come and visit me at my booth.” she told us.
We arrived at her booth and sat down together in the bright grass.
She looked tired. I still remember her first words.
“Corle left.”
She explained to us why. We were surprised. We’ve known Corle for years and years. He was like a father to us or at least to me. His behaviour for that weeks and the months to follow was hard to understand and difficult to take. How could he become like that?
People change.
“We are moving.”
Okay. Fine. I was prepared. It had almost happened before and, though we were crushed, we were ready.
That afternoon at Lightning in a Bottle, I made a little decision that I would not think about what would happen after the festival until it was over. I was not going to completely ignore it but just not dwell on it unless I wanted to. I didn’t want the festival to be ruined because of the news. After all, there was good in the news even though we did not fully realize it at the moment. We did not know it then and I am not sure if she did either but our mother was not happy for those two years we were living with Corle. A change in home was going to be a start of a new life. In my head I called it “The Golden Age”. A place with just my mom, my sisters, and I. The rest of that day I roamed the festival, listened to speakers, danced, created, met people, talked, and helped my mom run her art booth.
She was creating a Lightning in a Bottle tree. She put together and carved a tree-like structure out of wood and insulation foam. She had cubbies she built herself filled with rocks, beads, shells, toys, and other pieces. She also had this mortar paste that she coloured with dye. Orange, blue, purple, and white. Whenever someone would pass by the booth, she invited them over, met them, and let them add to the tree. Sometimes they would have their own piece and sometimes they looked through the cubbies or the festival for something to add using the paste.
When our mother was too tired or had to go away, we ran the booth for her. We met a lot of people filled with light and positive energy. It kept our minds off of problems and encouraged us to be positive.
I enjoyed the festival. I love the people, the sounds, the energy.
It took a lot to get there but I am now living in a new home with my mother and my two sisters. Though it is not as luxurious as before (I have to share a room with my mom), It is tons better. There is no more fear, distrust, or emptiness anymore and, most importantly, there is more unity.
Lightning in a Bottle. Leave it Better. Leave it Beautiful. I did.
Lightning in a Bottle. Leave it Better. Leave it Beautiful.
I had been looking forward to the festival for two years and it was finally time to go. Corle’s Nissan Versa was finally packed with our food, tents, clothes, and other necessities. Everyone but my mom left the house together. Our mom had left earlier that day to set up her art installation and we were to meet her at the festival. I was determined to have fun. I expected it to be perfect.
We got to the festival and immediately set off finding a good place to camp and our mother. It was not easy. Communication with our mother was a difficult because she was busy with her art. Corle began to get frustrated and worried but we assumed it was a passing thing. Like it always was. We let it be.
When we got settled, we checked in with our mom and started exploring the festival. Everything about it was beautiful. We strolled through the art and illusions, sat down to some music, and walked through the little shop booths. It was peaceful and fun. We enjoyed ourselves. It would have been perfect if our mother was there but she was busy and we understood that. We still enjoyed ourselves without her. I really thought we did.
Some peoples’ emotions are very hard to read.
My sisters and I went to bed in our tents at around midnight. There was loud music and the ground was not like our beds at home but we slept from exhaustion.
The next morning we woke up cheerful, our mother greeted us.
“Get dressed and eat something then come and visit me at my booth.” she told us.
We arrived at her booth and sat down together in the bright grass.
She looked tired. I still remember her first words.
“Corle left.”
She explained to us why. We were surprised. We’ve known Corle for years and years. He was like a father to us or at least to me. His behaviour for that weeks and the months to follow was hard to understand and difficult to take. How could he become like that?
People change.
“We are moving.”
Okay. Fine. I was prepared. It had almost happened before and, though we were crushed, we were ready.
That afternoon at Lightning in a Bottle, I made a little decision that I would not think about what would happen after the festival until it was over. I was not going to completely ignore it but just not dwell on it unless I wanted to. I didn’t want the festival to be ruined because of the news. After all, there was good in the news even though we did not fully realize it at the moment. We did not know it then and I am not sure if she did either but our mother was not happy for those two years we were living with Corle. A change in home was going to be a start of a new life. In my head I called it “The Golden Age”. A place with just my mom, my sisters, and I. The rest of that day I roamed the festival, listened to speakers, danced, created, met people, talked, and helped my mom run her art booth.
She was creating a Lightning in a Bottle tree. She put together and carved a tree-like structure out of wood and insulation foam. She had cubbies she built herself filled with rocks, beads, shells, toys, and other pieces. She also had this mortar paste that she coloured with dye. Orange, blue, purple, and white. Whenever someone would pass by the booth, she invited them over, met them, and let them add to the tree. Sometimes they would have their own piece and sometimes they looked through the cubbies or the festival for something to add using the paste.
When our mother was too tired or had to go away, we ran the booth for her. We met a lot of people filled with light and positive energy. It kept our minds off of problems and encouraged us to be positive.
I enjoyed the festival. I love the people, the sounds, the energy.
It took a lot to get there but I am now living in a new home with my mother and my two sisters. Though it is not as luxurious as before (I have to share a room with my mom), It is tons better. There is no more fear, distrust, or emptiness anymore and, most importantly, there is more unity.
Lightning in a Bottle. Leave it Better. Leave it Beautiful. I did.