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Published by astephens, 2015-07-30 13:27:36

2015 Writing at the Menil Anthology

2015 Writing at the Menil Anthology

WRITING AT THE MENIL
writers in the schools + the menil collection

Copyright © 2015 Writers in the Schools (WITS). All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the
publisher. Writers in the Schools, 1523 West Main Street, Houston, Texas 77006.

witshouston.org

WRITINGATTHEMENIL

Writing at the Menil is a 26-year collaboration between Writers
in the Schools (WITS) and the Menil Collection museum. What
began as the singular vision of Mrs. Dominique de Menil in
1989 has blossomed into a nationally-acclaimed, innovative
use of art to inspire creative writing.
Both institutions approach art in a similar manner: personally,
intuitively, and spiritually. The Menil opens its door freely and
beckons its visitors to come in and engage with the art. There are
no explanatory placards on the walls or audio tours. There are
no quotations from the artist or commentary from a renowned
curator to push you to look at a particular art work in a particular
way. Instead you enjoy the freedom of movement and revel in the
sanctity of your own thoughts. In a similar way, WITS approaches
the art of writing as a personal journey. Students are asked to tell
their own stories and create personal connections to the art. WITS
writers serve as year-long guides for these young people as they
sojourn through the writing process. A visit to the Menil Collection
remains the most inspired stop on their travels.

STUDENT WRITING

At the Menil, by Jacob ...........................................................................................1
Infinity, by Mari .......................................................................................................3
The Rusty Statue, by Bryant ...............................................................................3
Black, by Kennedy ..................................................................................................3
Mi alma | My Soul, by Raul ....................................................................................4
The Picture Speaks for Itself, by Hamza ......................................................... 5
The Picasso Experiment, by Dejaree .................................................................6
We are Built Gray, by Atticus ..............................................................................7

The Perfect View, by Caleb ................................................................................ 8
Colors, by Crawford ............................................................................................. 8
Ode to a Book, by Layla ...................................................................................... 8
Where I’m From, by Audrey ................................................................................9
Poesía de arte | Poetry of Art, by Brithany ...................................................10
Dark Meadow, by Michelle ................................................................................. 11
Wishes, by Maya ................................................................................................... 12
Gold, by Jack .......................................................................................................... 13
Friendly Picture, by Clara ................................................................................... 13
Tree of Knowledge, by Nicholas ...................................................................... 14
What is Beauty, by Viviana ............................................................................... 15
In the Forest, by Gary ......................................................................................... 16

At the Menil

I am not going to tell you this one.
All right, fine. I’ll tell you. It all started at the Menil. I walked into the third room, although I’d been warned not to. But what you
need to know is, when you tell me not to do something, I have to do it.
So, yes, I walked into the room. Walking closer to the paintings, I felt a tingling sensation in-side. Suddenly I was sucked in!
I had fallen into a murky green pond. I didn’t feel the same: I was a fish! I could breathe underwater. I flapped my fins. My skin
was gray with an orange spot. I am not really sure how I got the orange spot, let alone became a fish with a snaggle tooth
hanging over my front lip.
I was funny looking! I had one problem: I was tiny and a tasty snack for a frog.
I heard frogs croaking above me so I headed down stream. I wanted lunch, but I didn’t want to be someone’s snack.
Suddenly in front of me was a piece of bread. I jumped up and snagged the white bite. It was soggy and lumpy as it stuck to
my giant tooth.
Zing! I was pulled out of the water, hooked to a fishing line. The line carried me to the shore. My heart pounded against my
chest.
Out of water, I couldn’t breathe! I flopped on the ground gasping for air. In my head, I am a boy, but my body is a fish. Who
would have thought?
“I caught a fish or something,” said the little girl. It was my sister, Grace. She pulled me in and yanked the hook out of my mouth.
“Hi, it’s me!” I said.

1

She dropped me real quick.
“Ouch! That hurt!”
She looked at me flopping on the ground.
“Put me back in the water, Grace!”
She picked me up and tossed me into the pond. Boy, I said to myself. I can breathe now!
I was relieved to be back in the murky green pond. I looked up and saw Grace towering over me.
She had a funny look on her face.
Suddenly a hand from out of the sky reached into the water. Oh no! Here we go again.
The hand grabbed me, but I slipped away. It slammed through the water, and this time I was hoisted
out.
I felt that tingling sensation again. My fins became hands! I was back to my
old self!
My rescuer? The guard at the Menil, who didn’t seem at all surprised by my
transformation. I guess this is an everyday thing.
“Go catch your bus before it leaves,” he said, winking.
I wonder what will happen next time I go to the Menil?

by Jacob, 3rd grade

2

Infinity The Rusty Statue Black

I come from infinity. Anger is a rusty statue I hear tap shoes
I feel confused around infinity, in a high traffic area dancing in the wind.
but when I’m around infinity, You’re so stressed And a black crayon scribbling away.
I feel it’s like lions the business But something else that is
growling at me. the people all around dropping a light. And
The light traps me with it. the tension black dogs and cats
The way it takes me, all the difficulties pawing and scratching away.
I get a shiver down my spine. it makes you want to run I hear fish swimming
The light bounces off the mirrors and scream away in the deep
and blinds you. but you can’t; you’re stuck of sea-midnight.
While it spins, The crowds surround you I hear hair bows
time passes. the frustration builds unraveling themselves.
It will not return, and there you stand And the black clasping
it’s the end. a smile frozen of bad luck. And nail polish
by Mari, 3rd grade on your metal face falling and shattering.
as the brown rot And old fashioned movies
3 begins to show replaced by color. Black
is a lonely and sad color
by Bryant, 7th grade of the past.

by Kennedy, 3rd grade

I SAW MY SOUL
WHEN I WAS IN A
MUSEUM CALLED
Mialma MENIL.

Mi alma es como un doble corazón que siempre está despierto por la noche,
durante el día mi alma se ve como una roca.
Mi alma se siente suave como un rico plátano.
Mi alma sabe como una sonrisa pegada a un dulce.
Mi alma se escucha como una bebé llorando gua, gua, gua.
Yo vi a mi alma cuando estaba en un museo que se llama Menil
allí vi un cuadro todo negro, pero al observar bien, pude ver una sonrisa.

My Soul

My soul is like a double heart always awake at night, during the day it looks like a rock.
My soul feels soft like a rich banana.
My soul tastes like a smile glued to a candy.
My soul sounds like a baby crying gua, gua, gua.
I saw my soul when I was in a museum called Menil,
there I saw a painting all black, but when I observed it better, I could see a smile.
by Raul, 4th grade

4

The Picture Speaks for Itself

The things that have happened
Where I was where I stood where I ate
They have changed from fire to blood
To crying moms in the street to yelling children for their lost
Brother or sister to a girl who went searching in the rubble
Of her bombed house for anything
To schools overfilling with people and disease
Where the rebellion your poison-filled media calls a terrorist
just want their people to have freedom
Why was this constitution written for freedom but whose freedom
Everyone that’s not white for everyone but Muslims
Not in my name will you kill my people with our taxes
Help your own people that need the money
Not an act of terrorism you call self defense
The Palestinians are driving what we call
A struggle bus but what they call an average day
So let’s redefine freedom and self defense
And help the people whose loved ones died
They were innocent, they painted a picture
With their own blood
A picture of what their own future could have been
I would write more but their picture
Speaks for itself
If you can’t see it,
It says help
by Hamza, 10th grade

5

The Picasso Experiment

Her eyes look like blue dots
The background is yellow and white
She seems happy
Sitting in her chair, she imagines a possible solution
Her face is made of colorful numbers
In the background, I see a blue ocean, an easy painting
Her mouth looks like scissors
Her hair is delicate
The green dress makes me think of water
Her purple hands hold a green leaf, an onion
The flower reminds me of my arm
She stands on a giant potato
The woman looks at me strangely
I think she wants to dance
Her body moves like the river
She quietly rests in the living room
The woman has a long black hair
I can see her cry
She enjoys baking pies
When she wakes up, she will write a poem
Her thoughts make her tired
I believe she is an artist
If I were a painter, I would paint her.

by Dejaree, 7th grade

6

We are Built Gray

We are built gray today. Gray as the night sky.
Many hard times face your dreams. But keep
moving forward, don’t let your spirit down.
Times may face you when you want to give
up. You feel like you’re in a cell. But
keep your spirit high, never let it down.
Move ahead, accomplish your dreams come
true. You may be the loneliest person, but keep your spirit high.
For a journey, climb the highest mountain.
Go till the edge. Listen for
birds at sunset. At your hardest times, nature
will guide you. Start your dream that
you want. Open yourself wide to earth.
by Atticus, 2nd grade

7

The Perfect View Colors Ode to a Book

The sky Orange is as serious as Book, you are so special.
Gray being stuck on an island with no tools. You are old like my
But not too much so Peach is as royal as a queen precious grandmother.
‘Tis not gloomy but relaxed protected by a guard in a castle. You have been used so much
The wind Pink is new like a new road that is clean. that you’re almost falling apart.
Light Green is as ugly as an ogre or a witch Book, I see you in the library
For I feel it’s softly tugging at my paper that has scum under his toes. standing strong.
But even if I let it go the paper wouldn’t Indigo is as scary as When I open you, flip, flip, flip
Move far. a nightmare with monsters. as my imagination turns on.
The sun’s light shines dimly Violet is as fierce as a boxer As I open you,
Through the clouds who is playing in the championship. your smell is like a piney wood day.
The deep green grass catches Red is as embarrassing as Your fragrance reminds me of
My eye with its simple beauty. a kid who did something wrong my grandmother’s perfume.
Just the perfect view. and everyone is laughing. When I touch you,
by Caleb, 7th grade you are as smooth as the wind
by Crawford, 3rd grade on a hot day.
Your pages are crisp and worn out.
You make my imagination come alive
and I see pictures in my mind.

by Layla, 4th grade

8

Where I’m From

I am from paint brushes, from paint and canvases.
I am from the bright green grass.
I am from the roses of silk, the bushes of thorns.
I am from Chinese New Year and the artistic, from Emilie and Kim and Otto.
I am from the talkative and weird.
From “Interesting” and “Grow up.”
I am from hymnals and Bibles.
I’m from China, rice from the fields and ducks in the pond.
From the silly, the weird, and the short.
I am from books and albums in boxes which hold memories so clear that are special
for my family and for all who are here.

by Audrey, 5th grade I am from the
roses of silk, the
bushes of thorns.

9

Poesía de arte Poetry of Art

No hay nada como dibujar porque puedes There is nothing like drawing because you can
crear cosas que nadie haya visto create things that no one has seen
porque uno se olvida de lo malo because one forgets the bad
y puedes hacer a la gente feliz. and you can make people happy.
Siento el sonido de los colores y la pintura deslizandose.
El marcador alineando el dibujo I feel the sound of the colors and the paint slipping.
me recuerda el día que mi mamá tomó una revista The marker aligning the drawing
y la cortó en pedazos.
Hoy me gustaría hacer dibujos de animales, flores, reminds me of the day my mom took a magazine
ríos, parques, caballos y cosas nuevas. and cut it into pieces.
Imagino que cuando sea grande voy a ser una pintora perfecta.
Mis manos me ayudan a copiar mi sombra; Today I would like to make drawings of animals, flowers,
después regalo los dibujos a las personas; rivers, parks, horses, and new things.
las flores se las doy a mi mamá.
I imagine that when I grow up, I will be a perfect painter.
My hands help me copy my shadow;

afterwards, I give my drawings to the people;
the flowers to my mom.

by Brithany, 4th grade

10

Dark Meadow

She was in the dark meadow. She saw a beautiful big brown
wolf with shiny, silky fur. She saw its shining brown eyes
as they twinkled in the moonlight. She neared it from the corner
of the beautiful meadow it was in. She saw its eyes full
of worry when she neared it by the second. She sat across
from the beautiful yet sacred creature. She closed her eyes
for a moment. Seconds later she felt a presence and warm breath
in her face. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the creature,
curiosity full in its big brown eyes. The wind blew
through her, whispering a name.
by Michelle, 8th grade

11

Wishes

I wish we had WITS every Friday.
I wish Spanish was every Thursday.
I wish we had Vietnamese class every Wednesday.
I wish I had infinity dollars in my bank account.
I wish I had a credit card with unlimited money on it.
I wish there was a pool as big as the ocean
which means it has no beginning and no middle.
I wish everyone followed all the signs, even the sign that said,
“Eat Your Hat,” or “Knock Heads,” or “Go Three Spaces Back.”
I wish everyone has a happily ever after.

by Maya, 2nd grade

12

Gold

Gold shines like the sun and shimmers like water. Gold pops like popcorn and slithers like waves. Gold
flows like lava and seeps like blood. Gold skitters like the slick black legs of a miniscule spider lurking
in the shadows and gold wriggles like a worm. Gold flashes like lightning and rumbles like thunder.
Gold unfolds like the answer to a riddle.
by Jack, 4th grade

Friendly Picture

While I was not looking, I fell into a picture. It was full of arrows, blotches, and swirls coming for me.
But they were very friendly. They were looking for a new leader, and they picked me. The swirls were
like music. The arrows were like birds tweeting. The blotches were like music notes. It was like a music
band. I was the boss of the music. I heard the blotches telling everyone what notes to do. The arrows
were driving the space alien ship. The arrows shot me out of the picture.
by Clara, 2nd grade

13

Tree of Knowledge

Fear is a rope on a branch
Slavery is a bird in a cage
Knowledge is a leaf on a tree
Power is a flood in the desert
Knowledge is the leaf on a branch. Each leaf contains something important to know.
A thirteen year old tree with 10 branches and 800 leaves. The roots collect what we are learning and
stores them in leaves as memories.
When you forget your knowledge,
leaves turn brown and fall to the ground.
If you learn more, leaves grow and turn green.
The color is bright like a star.
by Nicholas, 7th grade

14

What is Beauty

Beauty is equal to living free in the air.
You’re a horse running faster than lightning,
Hitting the floor; your feet are a hammer hitting a tube.
Beauty comes from inside your heart.
Someone is stealing from you and you forgive them.
Beauty is in nature.
Ducks are singing, air whispering, “Relax.”
Beauty is happiness.
You’re jumping with a colored unicorn,
Rain drops are candy.
You’re a cloud made out of cotton candy.
Beauty does not come from outside.
A duck is not pretty from the outside
But very nice on the inside.
It does not take anything to make a rose floating in the water.
Beauty is life.
Your heart is jumping in your chest,
Bumping over your skin, and it is a ball hopping.
by Viviana, 4th grade

15

In the Forest

I.
Fresh water moving calmly in the water
like a row boat rowing slowly.
The bright pink flowers make me happy.
II.
There is a path made with dirt.
More leaves hang from the branches
like someone hanging on the monkey bars.
The blue water grows less and less.
III.
The flower grows darker
when the trees are blocking the sunlight.
The dirt path gets brighter
as the sun moves across the sky.
by Gary, 2nd grade

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THANK YOU
THE MENIL COLLECTION
THE JOE BARNHART FOUNDATION
JOSEF HELFENSTEIN, DIRECTOR OF THE MENIL COLLECTION BRIGHT SKY PRESS
KARL KILIAN, DIRECTOR OF PUBLIC PROGRAMS ALBERT AND ETHEL HERZSTEIN CHARITABLE FOUNDATION
THE MENIL COLLECTION STAFF AND MUSEUM GUARDS EDWARD AND HELEN OPPENHEIMER FOUNDATION
THE PERIWINKLE FOUNDATION
WITS GENEROUS SUPPORTERS KINDER MORGAN FOUNDATION
LESLIE AND SHANNON SASSER FAMILY FUND
HOUSTON ENDOWMENT INC. STELLUS CAPITAL MANAGEMENT, LLC
YOUTH SPEAKS WELLS FARGO
THE BROWN FOUNDATION, INC. BP FOUNDATION, INC.
THE MENIL COLLECTION IKEA
NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE ARTS KPFT
CITY OF HOUSTON THROUGH THE HOUSTON ARTS ALLIANCE KUHF HOUSTON PUBLIC RADIO
COPY.COM EXXONMOBIL FOUNDATION
THE WILLIAM STAMPS FARISH FUND DISCOVERY GREEN WITH SUPPORT FROM THE SALNERS FOUNDATION
SHELL THE ROBERT & PEARL WALLIS KNOX FOUNDATION
TEXAS COMMISSION ON THE ARTS MULTICULTURAL EDUCATION AND COUNSELING THROUGH THE ARTS
THE SIMMONS FOUNDATION
KROGER
THE POWELL FOUNDATION
THE CLAYTON FUND, INC.
BBVA COMPASS
GEORGE AND MARY JOSEPHINE HAMMAN FOUNDATION
H-E-B TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS
TRAVELERS FOUNDATION

WITS SCHOOLS + PARTNERS IKEA
KASHMERE GARDENS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
ASIA SOCIETY TEXAS KETELSEN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
ATTUCKS MIDDLE SCHOOL KIPP LIBERATION
AUSTIN HIGH SCHOOL KIPP SHARPSTOWN
BELLAIRE HIGH SCHOOL LAURA INGALLS WILDER ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
BENAVIDEZ ELEMENTARY SCHOOL LOOSCAN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
BRIARGROVE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL LYONS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
BROWNING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL MARSHALL ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
BRUCE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL MEADOW WOOD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
CARVER HIGH SCHOOL MULTICULTURAL EDUCATION AND COUNSELING THROUGH THE ARTS
CLIFTON MIDDLE SCHOOL OAK FOREST ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
CONDIT ELEMENTARY SCHOOL POE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
CRISTO REY JESUIT COLLEGE PREPARATORY PRESBYTERIAN SCHOOL OF HOUSTON
CULLEN MIDDLE SCHOOL REVERE MIDDLE SCHOOL
DEADY MIDDLE SCHOOL RIZZUTO ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
DISCOVERY GREEN PARK SAINT ANNE CATHOLIC SCHOOL
DUCHESNE ACADEMY SAINT LAURENCE CATHOLIC SCHOOL
EASTWOOD ACADEMY HIGH SCHOOL SAINT MICHAEL CATHOLIC SCHOOL
FALCON PASS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL SOCIETY FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS
FIELD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL SPRING BRANCH ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
FONVILLE MIDDLE SCHOOL ST. MARK’S EPISCOPAL SCHOOL
GARDEN OAKS MONTESSORI MAGNET T. H. ROGERS SCHOOL
GRADY MIDDLE SCHOOL THE REGIS SCHOOL
HAMILTON MIDDLE SCHOOL TRAVIS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
HARMONY SCHOOL OF SCIENCE HIGH SCHOOL VERITAS CHRISTIAN ACADEMY
HOUSTON GRAND OPERA WHARTON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
HOUSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY YOUNG AUDIENCES OF HOUSTON
HUNTERS CREEK ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

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BY LAYLA, 4TH GRADE

1523 WEST MAIN, HOUSTON, TEXAS 77006 | 713.523.3877 | WITSHOUSTON.ORG

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