I would love to talk about things we see on the ground and how they hold powerful symbolism for us. Messages on the daily. Do you see the photo above? if you didn’t immediately see a treble clef, now you do. Happy accidents. Music. Other worldly pushing down on us. It’s really all very magnificent if you breathe into it.
 

About five years ago, there was a rubber band that hung out for three straight months—in a curled up position in front of one of my favorite local coffee shops. It endured rainstorms, snowstorms, and wind. I checked on it daily. I swear it was put there by some other force from the clouds. Saturn’s rings, or maybe by one of Jupiter’s moons. It reminded me to keep steady withBlack Licorice and a much earlier novel called Nina LaRita. I wrote both novels in Revolutionary Lounge, where that rubber band survived all kinds of weather. It remained in the same spot, and I really don’t know how, come to think of it. It should have been blown away or shifted in some respect. It should not have continued to exist in the exact spot for three months, but it did. 
 

The spring and summer season of 2020, when all of us so deeply reconnected with nature, was the season I found “red kingdom.” Almost every single walk around my neighborhood with my dog nudged red objects my way. I began collecting them in ziplock bags and taking it all to heart. Why? What? How? I wrote a short story about the red ribbon. I heard my dear friend Bob’s voice in the empty mini vodka bottle with the red label. I heard the screams of my Italian ancestors within the lid of the ricotta cheese. These objects were so piercingly loud to me during that time of my life. I swear the world speaks when it needs to, and quells its messages when it needs to. I was desperate for connection then, as we all were—and so the red objects (I think I counted 8 total) meant something bigger than just junk. I still have them in a ziplock in my desk. I sanitized them all, of course, because ewwww. I cannot bring myself to throw that bag out. 
 

Kathy Curto, author of Not For Nothing: Glimpses into a Jersey Girlhood, and writing instructor whom I respect and celebrate, recently posted a photo of a pink eraser she found on the ground. In the caption she wrote that it reminded her of all things sensory, one thought unfolding another thought, then another. Elementary school and all of its splendor. She gets it. That pink pencil top eraser was placed there for her by the ground elves, or again, one of the planets’ sassy messengers. She was meant to see it and think on it. 
 

 I’ve spotted jagged heart stones, strings that fall in the shape of letters, and single random potatoes in non-supermarket lots. Yep. A single, lone potato in a parking lot who cries for her family. Because you know. Potatoes seem like a vegetable that would cry. Her name was Dolores, I’m sure of it. 

 I challenge you…encourage you to look around. Nothing is an accident. Or if it is, turn it into a story or a meditation. My god, we have to do something to make this life here on Earth meaningful when it seems dark and listless, right? 
 

Feathers. Playing cards. Broken necklaces. They all tell a story to you. Even if you aren’t a writer.

If you haven’t preordered my debut Young Adult novel, Black Licorice, here is the link to do so: https://elainawrites.us4.list-manage.com/track/click?u=705a760bc7f5119652200b64d&id=4ed18dff18&e=e15909df53

After you enjoy the teenage writings, I’d love to share my favorite blast from the past of the week: 
https://elainawrites.us4.list-manage.com/track/click?u=705a760bc7f5119652200b64d&id=dc1ebec61a&e=e15909df53
 

I wish you all a healthy 2023. Kindly read on and enjoy three beautiful teenage-created pieces by NJ and Rhode Island teens. 

PEAR: a forum for teenage voices. 

Solitary Winter

By Julianna W., Rhode Island

Bleak gray sky

Above snow-covered land

Bare, black branches

Like skeletal hands.

Icicles dangle

Lethal and cruel

Morning frost sparkles 

Like dust from a jewel.

The temperature dropping

Feels like claws against skin.

Each breath is a cloud

Like a ghost in the wind

Crystalline flurries 

Float through the air

Fragmented snowflakes

Get caught in my hair.

The drifts blanket the world

In a frigid, bright white

Reflecting the sun,

Like the full moon at night

I stand alone in this landscape,

A cruel wind starts to blow

Behind me lies a trail

Of my prints in the snow

Seasonal Spirit

by C.B., NJ 

The holidays fill us with joy and delight.

Christmas makes us feel merry and bright.

Our homes are covered in holiday lights.

We drive around town to take in the sights

This time every year families love getting together,

Each year we tend to celebrate a little bigger and better.

Santa’s reindeer click-clatter under the cover of night,

The tree and our decorations are a beautiful sight.

The joy of Christmas is here on this special night.

Our love and compassion give Santa’s sleigh its flight.

So be thankful to God for His blessings tonight.

Swing 

by Aaryan, NJ

It was the bottom of the ninth and the score was tied. The  crowd was cheering and screaming for their team. I stepped up to the plate and took a deep breath. The pitch came, and I swung powerfully. The crack of the bat echoed through the stadium and the ball flew through the air. It was headed for the stands, and it looked like it was going to be a home run. The game was over and my team had won. I was mobbed by my teammates, who lifted me up on their shoulders and celebrated our victory.