Crazy Corrie's Chronicles

I could teach you today, about some very technical art techniques to incorporate into your programs, but I don’t think that would work for either you or your students. I could show you a myriad of nifty and easy crafts, but then again so can Pinterest. So with that said why am I here? To inspire you: to send you well on your way as a confident creator of “art.” I am by far, of all the “specialists” at the Boys and Girls Club, the least qualified educationally! I didn't go to college for art. I never had a real art class or instructor in my life. My only credentials are my experience and my genes. Then why am I here today? How came I to be in charge of the Craziest Craft program in town? How came I to be so passionate about art? Because I saw at an early age what art is: it is finding beauty in the seeming ordinary, in the worthless, in the plain. It’s looking at a white sheet of paper and imagining the unimaginable. It’s turning a pile of thrown out cardboard into something ...

     Many Christmases ago, in a village closer than you think, a young man awoke to find a mysterious gift nestled among the freshly fallen snow upon his stoop. Curious, he picked up the package and searched for the tag. His name was clearly printed on the card dangling from the bow atop the present, but unlike what you or I would have done perhaps, he  didn't  open it. He  didn't  rip into the paper to discover its contents; he simply studied the beautifully striped wrappings, and admired the delicate ribbon wound about it. He gently shook the package to guess what lay inside, but never bothered to actually find out. Instead, he brought the box inside and placed it prominently on his table. Stepping back to admire it, he called his family to come and see what he had received so unexplainably. They gathered around and also wondered at the exterior of the package, but left shortly to continue about their business.  The man, made temporarily joyful ...

"SuperGirls" puppet stage I can hardly fathom that it has been over one month since Chronicle#2.Though time has flown for me, I’m sure you all perceived time to have crept by as you patiently waited for the next Chronicle. (JUST kidding! J ) With such a lapse of time, I will, of course, not be painstakingly detailed or comprehensive in this Chronicle; and after last Chronicle’s tormentuous length, I cannot again impose on so much of your valuable time. So, in summary, this Chronicle will recount merely *selected highlights of October and early November (such a task!).             Of greatest importance is my change in position. Shortly after my last letter to you all, I was abruptly switched from Teen Center employee to Lincoln Elementary Site Director. Basically, that means instead of just doing whatever I was told and coming up with cool crafts once in awhile for middle-school kids, I would be in charge of running the whol...

I entitle this Chronicle “the most boring letter in the history of…the world”! Really, I have nothing to say that is of interest to anybody, I’m quite certain.  If you read these Chronicles merely to be amused at my expense, then I suggest you read no further, as this Chronicle is not but a summary of the details and quirks of my position and co-workers. Forgive me for wasting your time (though, in my defense, you have been warned), but I fear I must begin several weeks ago.  As alluded to in my last Chronicle, I am serving at the Boys and Girls Club of Rice Lake: that is only partially true. Technically, I am serving as a full-time volunteer with AmeriCorps (the domestic PeaceCorps) stationed at the BGC club. (as a volunteer we technically don’t receive wages, just a living allowance and insurance).Anyways, technicalities aside, I am working at the Rice Lake Teen Center (the “club”) with another AmeriCorps member, Reese. From 1-3:30 I work downstairs at my computer on o...

My "boss" Adam & his beautiful wife Jessi with my two sisters  and me. And I’m BACK with even more humorous stories and ridiculous escapades to relate to you, my faithful reader. As it has been over a year since these Chronicles have been in circulation (since I have taken the time to dramatize my life’s funny moments in print) allow me to catch you up on my setting. I am now, as of Monday August 29, 2010, a resident of Rice Lake, WI (for those of you who are unfamiliar with Wisconsin geography, Rice Lake is located in the North-West corner of the state: 4 hours west of N-land).  And as of today, September 1, 2010, I am a Boys and Girls Club …um, actually I have yet to receive my job details or title. But anyways, that’s what I’m up to. My “boss” at BGC is Adam Cabrera, an old friend and “big brother” of mine from high school/college.  In fact, it is due to his urging and string pulling that I am here in the first place.  While still in Wausaukee – miles ...

Okay...I just found this stashed away in a random file; I apparently wrote it on the one year anniversary of our graduation (excluding David).  +David Williams   +jérémie savard   +Amy Guillot   @Megan Brinson Moore It’s been one year today: one year ago we parted ways knowing little of our future and clinging tightly to the memories of the past. In the midst of gathering families, frantic photos, unsightly jobs of packing, pomp and circumstance, billowing gowns, and threatening tears, we said goodbye. Uncertainty had shrouded our separation as the prospect of never seeing each other again loomed. Pathetic fallacy had morphed the initially bright morning into a hazy state of gloom as the ceremonies had worn on, the crowd had thinned, and the unavoidable parting neared. Clutching resolutely to the time left, we had seemed tethered to the lamp post, our secure meeting place. But, the time eventually came, and the dread word was spoken: goodbye.   ...

Well, it’s over – college has finally come to an end. After four years of trials, sleepless nights, bad food, annoying roommates, unnecessary rules, confining dress codes, impossible assignments, and relational difficulties, I am finally done! And yet…I miss it. Amidst the trivial annoyances and structures, I have also laughed more than I had in the previous eighteen years put together, I met people that will never be erased from my memory or heart, my mind had been stretched, my heart opened, and my soul burdened, I made memories that will be cherished above all others. Yes, I am rid of authority breathing down my neck, but I am also rid of friends holding my hand and watching my back every day of the week. Sure, I no longer have to endure the obnoxious renaissance songs in chapel, but I also will never spend late nights mingling my guitar and friends’ voices in worship to my God. Of course, I will no longer be submitted to the shady cuisine of the dining hall, but Saturday mo...