Small Stone Blogsplash – we need your help…

Kaspa and Fiona have taken over my blog for today, because they need our help. 

They are both on a mission to help the world connect with the world through writing. They are also getting married on Saturday the 18th of June.

For their fantasy wedding present, they are asking people across the world to write them a ‘small stone’ and post it on their blogs or on Facebook or Twitter.

A small stone is a short piece of observational writing – simply pay attention to something properly and then write it down. Find out more about small stones here.

If you’re willing to help, we’d love you to do things:

1) Re-post this blog on your own blog any time before June the 18th and give your readers a chance to hear about what we’re doing. You can simply copy and paste the text, or you can find the html here.

2) Write us a small stone on our wedding day whilst we’re saying our vows and eating cake, post it on your blog, and send it to us.

You can find out more about our project at our website, Wedding Small Stones, and you can also read our blog at A River of Stones.

We also have a July challenge coming soon, when we’ll be challenging you to notice one thing every day during July and write it down.

Thank you for listening, and we hope we’ll be returning from our honeymoon to an inbox crammed with small stones, including yours.

Kaspa & Fiona


Note from Madeline:
To refresh your memory, I took on the NaSmaStoMo small stone a day challenge last January. I'm definitely going to write a wedding small stone on June 18. Please join me.

NaSmaStoMo - Small stone month update

During the month of January 2011, I took the small stone challenge -  noticing one thing properly every day and writing it down.


And I'm pleased to say that one of my thirty-one small stones appears in the book: 

pay attention: a river of stones, edited by Fiona Robyn and Kaspalita.

I have always thought I paid attention to the details around me, but with this challenge I looked particularly at what was going on in nature. I take regular walks to the beach and that was a perfect opportunity to pay attention. My small stone in the book is something a saw about the ocean one day.


I've posted three links for you to buy either a paperback, hardback, or download edition of the book. I hope you will and that you like it. I can't wait to get mine and read the other 349 small stones in the book.


The book also contains short prose pieces written by the editors, longer quotes by several small-stoners, and an appendix with lots of information about how to write small stones.


You can buy the paperback
<http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/pay-attention-a-river-of-stones/15055593>
, the  hardback
<http://www.lulu.com/product/hardcover/pay-attention-a-river-of-stones/15055500>
 and the download
<http://www.lulu.com/product/file-download/pay-attention-a-river-of-stones/15054628>
 from Lulu right now.

Last stone for NaSmaStoMo

Jan 31: 

I walked just one block toward the ocean this morning, and the salt air and sunshine told me just how glorious a day this is going to be. 

Small stones January twenty-three to thirty

One more day left -

Jan 23: Thick black clouds rose into the sky and dissipated into the blue. And I don’t know where they came from.

Jan 23: Packing boxes, putting fragile ware out of harm’s way, throwing out detritus, and running up and down the stairs until we’ve completed the prep work for our wood floor renovation this week, I wonder, is it more trouble than it’s worth?

Jan 24: So tired and it’s only eleven thirty in the morning. But I’m pushing on.

Jan 24: I walk from my car to the gym in the dark cold morning, holding my jacket closed to the chill. But I refuse to park closer. The cold wakes me up and the walk gives my workout a jump start.

Jan 25: The plane’s loud hum doesn’t disrupt its smooth dissent.

Jan 25: White snowy peaks rise just above the cloud-line.

Jan 26: The clear lake like a mirror reflects the pine trees standing green and proud along its edge.

Jan 26: One hundred year old vines, thick, gnarled, bent over like old men, stand in long straight rows ready to produce full-bodied, peppery, deep red zins for their masters until death.

Jan 26: A Ganesh beckons me from the window. Heavy cement rubbed in a deep ochre patina and enveloped by heart shapes around its base.  Could I make it mine? it's too soon to tell.

 

Jan 27: I found the old Knight Foundry, created in 1873 just off downtown Sutter Creek’s Main Street. And I made a piece of art out of its shelves of tools all rusty and dirty and superfluous in the time we live in now.

Jan 27: How can I treat my husband so he’ll look at me and think I’m a better person than I am right now, tonight?

Jan 28: The cold wind blew right through me as I walked up Post Street this morning. Even passing those up-scale shops didn’t warm my bones.

Jan 28: The painted heart statue on the corner of Union Square shows the San Francisco Bay and its famous bridge.

Jan 29: Waiting, waiting, waiting for our flight to LA. What else can you do with a gimpy foot on a misty day?

Jan 29: I’ll do anything to get my step tally for the day – even walk in boots with heels high enough to cause the sides and soles of my feet to burn.

Jan 30: Back home at last, watching the rain pouring down in the bright and clear sunlit day.

Small Stones nineteen through twenty-two

I can't believe NaSmaStoMo is almost over. Here's my latest.

Jan 19: My toes on the bar, my heels stuck together in a Vee, I push out and in on the Pilates reformer. At the end I push out and flex my heels under the bar as far as they can go. Ahhh!

Jan 20: The canned lights hang from almost bare branches. Only a few crisp yellow leaves remain. The children playing underneath don’t mind.

Jan 21: I’ve already worked out two hours, had a half hour meeting with a friend about my critique of his class assignment, showered, shampooed, and dressed. Now finally I’m at my desk, watching the gurgling fountain from my office picture window, ready to write. Who said getting down to business is hard work?

Jan 22: My garden Buddha is now out from behind the tall palm tree. I'm happy to see his smiling face again.

Jan 22: The Spinning class instructor says don’t bounce; keep pedaling in a smooth, continuous motion. I could care less if I bounce or not. I’m just happy to be there.

Small Stones fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen

Jan 14: Rotating and moving my ankle back and forth seems to have erased the pain.

Jan 15: I am unable to lift my mood out of its blue funk since last Saturday’s shooting in Tucson.

Jan 16: Flip-flops, spaghetti straps, shorts all in sight on this unseasonably hot winter day.

Jan 17: I’m being very lax today: late to rise, late to workout, late to get to my desk. And it’s all quite okay.  

Jan 18: The line at the post office reached out the door while impatient customers coughed, shuffled their feet, and beat their fingers on the ledge as they waited for the one postal employee to call “Next.” 

Small Stones seven through thirteen

Jan 7: I’m going through each page of my manuscript combing every line for my editor’s neatly printed turquoise blue pen marks.

Jan 8: We sit crushed together on hard folding-chair seats, gobbling down every word our writing gurus say.

Jan 9: The little babies converse across the booth seat as we eat at the Corner Bakery this morning.

Jan 10: I watch the tiny leaves sway in the yard next door under a gray, gloom.

Jan 11: One loud jolt, then a short rumbling shake. Yes, a small earthquake but I don't worry. (And I lived to write about it.)

Jan 12: The waves roll in lazily; their whitecaps barely able to touch the shore.

Jan 13: A starling family hops around a small garden near the beach, their dark metallic feathers etched with gold specks.

Small stones four, five, and six

Jan 5: I walked through our town’s new sculpture garden this morning. The hilly grass a perfect backdrop for our budding artists.

Jan 6: She brushed my hair flat against my back and snipped little sections diagonally about a half an inch, trimming the ends.

Jan 7: I’m going through each page of my manuscript combing every line for my editor’s neatly printed turquoise blue pen marks.

First small stones

North end of Manhattan Beach

NaSmaStoMo entries for days one through three:

Jan 1: The puffy white jet streams intersect the morning’s clear blue sky, belying those dire predictions of rain.

Jan 2: The bubbles dance on my cement pool’s surface, waiting for the birds to drink.

Jan 3: My little Buddhas in green, gold, silver, and stone, greet me with laughter, success, and good health. They watch me closely as I write.