And now we have Soulcraft Bloomington with their first cranky, the story of the Fox and the Dog. And
this is the children one. Welcome everyone. This year, our story is called The Fox and the Dog, a Scottish
roll tale.
was a beautiful red fox, living in the hills of her means of a lush forest, giant tulip trees and sass
grass, near a beautiful flowing river lined with geodes and primates. These forests had the life and
fear of a long-spurred squirrel with scars. At this moment in the story, colorful leaves borrowed from
all but one, covering the ground with crunchy leaves. The blinking firefly of summer and wolf spiders
had all tucked themselves into loose, warm soil. The monarchs had all begun their journeys south of
Tijuana weather,
He could sometimes see the trails of the Sandhill Cranes as they followed. The moles and wolves had
already begun to lighten their wood stoles in their underground bones. The fox had been out hunting
this early winter day, but hadn't had much luck. He followed the river and was content, feeling a part
of this lush forest, actually feeling at peace. I've never felt so at peace in all my life. What a beautiful
place this is. He sits and stretches his legs. Even though he's a little hungry, he decided to lie down
and listen to the water in the creek.
Just as he began to fall asleep, he heard a sound in the distance. He is still with him. Heard the hunters
and their dogs so far, and the fox knew he needed to run back to his den. From now on, he would have
to be more careful in the forest. That night, while he hid in his cozy den, he felt the freezing cold
north winds within the house. The temperature was dropping. The next few days, he carefully went hunting
in the cold, but had to retreat sooner to his den because of the snow and ice coming down each day.
Many days passed, and his stomach was growling like it had never growled before. He couldn't sleep well,
and the rumbling of his stomach were loud and clear. He knew he wouldn't make it to December like this,
much less March. He thought and thought and thought, and thought of one thing to do, but it would be
dangerous. What chance did he have? The next evening, when fog sniffed the change in the air, he saw
the colors of the sky changing as the sun shone. He heard the hooting of the barbell and the beautiful
trill of the Louisville shell, and left to die.
He traveled through the forest and passed his familiar friends and favorite animals. He hopped across
the stones of the creek and up the trees of the forest. After many hours of slow but careful travel,
he was an empty pit in his stomach. He reached the edge of the forest where there was a road. He had
to be very careful of any cars at the right lengths because they wouldn't slow down for a box. He crossed
the road and stood on the edge of a great valley, field after field, and off in the distance, he saw
a small orange boat.
Fox traveled through the fields often sticking with the fence line, and although his friends and the
deer were there, he knew he couldn't stop to talk. Occasionally, he heard a familiar sound, and he knew
to report it. But he was too hungry and desperate to stop. Finally, he saw the glow, the light coming
through a window on the old, familiar farmhouse. Sticking to the shadows, Fox began to move closer to
the barn and house of Morris, getting a little energy from the excitement. As he passed the house in
a moment, he saw a farmer stirring a pot of soup and settling down for the evening.
The farmer had fresh bread and soft butter, a warm drink and some apple pie too. Fox then caught a scent
of the delicious aroma walking in the cold air and could hardly wait. What I wouldn't do for a taste
of that, but no, I can't get strapped in and carried on. We traveled always on the edge of the light
being careful not to be seen as we knew how dangerous this place was. Fox knuckled to the barn and heard
the familiar sound.
When I went over, I tasted a plump one-cheaper. I tried to grab one, but they were too fast and he was
too tired. They jumped and kissed and flew all the barrels. The squeeze was too fast and created quite
the ruckus. The boxing exhausted the nuts of chicken's feet. It was quite scratched up and the shovel
wound quite heated. I crept to the next room of the barn where I saw a candle and happily, loudly, snoring dog.
The dog stirs only once the fox is right next to him and says, why cousin fox, what brings you here?
Fox smiles weakly and says, I don't come here often. You know, it's quite dangerous for me to come here,
but time's so tough and I felt I had no choice. I've been hunted and it's cold and I'm so hungry. I
was wondering if you could spare a morsel of food for an old friend. Of course, I have some delicious
spare food for you here in this shiny bowl. I couldn't nearly finish my food tonight, as he now just
growls at the fox.
The fox started devouring the food right away as his stomach rumbled in appreciation until the bowl
was shiny and he could see his own reflection in it. It was then his cousin dog says, Fox, you need
to change your ways. You are getting much too old for this running around, trying not to be hunted,
catching chickens, always looking for foodstuff. You need to get a job. A job, says the fox as he looks
his lips in the empty bowl.
What's a job? What am I to do? I'm a fox. Those are the things I'm meant to do. What do you mean a job?
Explain what a job involves. Husband dog says, yes, a job. I'll start with the best part. You get two
meals a day of yummy food. It's wonderful. Well, you live in a warm and toasty barn like this with a
personal kennel and lots of warm blankets. Well, that is a mighty fine necklace you have there. And
two meals a day sounds really nice right now. That bed also looks really warm and soft.
What would I need to do for this job? Says the fox. Oh, not much, says the dog. It's mostly barking.
You bark when you hear something loud approaching the farm. Sometimes you bark, you're in shadow. Or
sometimes you bark at nothing at all. The farmer thinks you're always working. You get to have a shiny
necklace like this, and you get food two times a day. That's amazing. Well, I'm great at barking. You
need to tell me that just for my barking, I can get a comfy bed, food twice a day, and a nice necklace
with my name on it?
That's it, bark a lot, be good with the kids, and that's it. Get good food, a soft bed, and a fancy
necklace. Get a job, as a dog, like me. Fox thought about this for a while, thought about the bed,
the food, and about how handsome he would look with a fancy collar like the dog. It was then that he
noticed another shiny thing behind the dog. It was a chain attached to the collar. Wait, what is that
attached to the necklace, cousin dog? Fox says.
Oh, that? That's my change, says the dog. Wait, are you telling me you're a prisoner? No, no, of course
not. I am treated very well. I get water at least once a day, and always get the most delicious pedigree
food. I'm definitely not a prisoner, or a servant. It's a job that I've got. Just a job, says Cousin
Dog. Fox thought a lot about this. He thought again about the cozy, warm bed, the easy food, and the barking.
Cousin dog, I like those things you have. I do, but the thing I love most in life is my freedom. So
I know the life of the dog is not for me. I thank you for the food and company you share with me tonight,
but I must go now. And with the flick of his bushy tail, he was out of the barn and traveling again
in the shadows and back through the fields, more quickly and with energy this time. He knew it would
be the last time he would see his cousin, the dog.
He hurried across the street and backed into his forest home. It seemed he couldn't get there fast enough.
The colors of the sunrise were just beginning to show as he stopped by the river again for a moment,
took a sip of the cold, refreshing water. He breathed a sigh of relief and joy. It was good being back
in the beautiful forest and with his wild friends again. Once the sun rose, he was back in his den sleeping
soundly with a full belly, dreaming of the friends he would visit tomorrow and mice he would chase and catch.
He was content. His cousin the dog would often stare at the moon, and when he would sometimes hear the
growling, a high-pitched yip and yelp off far in the distance, and he would wonder what his wily cousin
the fox was up to. The end.
It is a battle many of us feel internally, even if we are not always conscious of it. It comes from
the old Scottish travel communities, but it's told around the world now. I teach at Harmany School,
and my name's Elaine.
We have at Harmony kind of a rotating every three years situation with an art year, a multicultural
year, and a science year. And this happened to be our art year. So last month was art month. And so
each teacher paired with a local artist. And we focused on some sort of art project. And we have a big
display right now over at Fountain Square.
if you get a chance to head over there too. Some of our art is still over there. But I got paired with
Elizabeth and she came and taught me and about eight-ish, middle, fifth or sixth grade up to high schoolers
about making crankies. So our kids, we just kind of, we spread a scroll down the hallway during pizza
day a couple weeks ago and just told the kids, just fill this thing up with
messages and pictures of hope and love and peace. And there's a lot of chihuahuas through here. This
was an unmonitored activity, so no telling what's going to pop up here. I tried to look through it.
I think it's all OK. We let basically preschoolers up through seniors in high school loose on this scroll.
It was primarily the younger kids that got into it.
So yeah, this rhino that we have housed ours in was made for a previous art year. We've been trying
to figure out how many years ago. At least 10, maybe 12, 15 years ago, this rhino was made to promote
a former art show. These were put around town. I don't know. Some of you guys may remember seeing them.
They were promoting the Harmony Art Show that year. And so we cut a couple holes in it and kind of made it
20-year art collaboration with the idea that we may make some future scrolls and future art years and
change it out. So, yeah. I really don't know what I did. I know it's not as long as some of the others,
so I'm really incredible. Scrolls here today.
A potato. Mr. Potato. And a cat potato. Some bread. It was clearly lunch time. There was a pizza. Here
came the chihuahuas. Once the chihuahuas started, they didn't stop. But all the kids in our group, they
made individuals smaller.
And we had those over at the Fountain Square Mall display when we had our opening night on April 3rd
and 1st Friday. But we sent those home with kids and we kind of worried about them sitting out at Fountain
Square Mall for the month while the rest of the exhibit is still there.
Does this guy get away? No. He's eating him. And they don't care. Freaked out. The fish eat the stars?
The universe is so huge. It's scary. It's beautiful. But is it really eat or be eaten?
Yes, everyone must eat, but they shouldn't over-consume or devour. Each life form contributes to the
lives of others in some way, at least hopefully once. So eat and respect what is eaten. But what about
the beings who devour?
Those who devour should always fear those they aim to destroy, because beings will fight back, maybe
not today or tomorrow, but someday, so they can live, so they can eat. Life is resilient. They're chopping them up.
based on an old song that goes back at least 500 years. There's a fresco in England that has parts of
this song on it that is a 500-year-old fresco. Some people think this is about the story of Robin Hood.
And one of the things about the Robin Hood story is that it was
looking for saw Robin Hood as someone who was fighting for justice. So it may or may not have to do
with something like that. Oh, Kilcock Robin, me said the sparrow with my little
It was I who killed Cock Robin. And but who saw him die? Me said the fly with my teeny tiny eye. It
was I who saw him die. Oh, but who caught his blood? Me said the fish with my
My little silvery dish was I who caught his flood. Oh, but who will make the shroud? Me said the beetle
with my little thread and needle was I who made the shroud. Oh, but who
dig his grave. Me said the crow with my little spade and hoe was I who dig his grave. Oh, but who will
be the clerk? Me said the linen, I will be there in a minute. Oh, I will be the clerk.
the parson. Me said the rook with my little tiny book. Oh, I will be the parson. Oh, but who will be
chief mourner? Me said the dove. I mourn for my love. Oh, I will be chief mourner.
sing his song. Me send the swallow just as loud as I can holler. Oh, I will sing his song. Oh, but who
will bear the paw? Me send the wren, both the cock and the hen. Oh, we will bear the paw.
I will toll the bell. Please send the bull because I can't pull. Oh I will toll the bell.
a sighin' and a sovin' when they heard the bell toll. Poor, poor, poor car.
The life of a lotus nut, a lotus seed, is going to travel a river and through time, in this case for
200 years. If needed, this kind of seed can remain dormant that long before sprouting. American lotus
used to be one of the best staple wild foods here. Almost all parts of the plant are edible. Our inspiration
to use the lotus nut as
The main character of this cranky came from many adventurous trips gathering the seeds and lotus roots,
also called mud bananas, with Soulcraft kids and adult classes. At the very end there will be a boomerang.
seven years ago. Our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation conceived in liberty and dedicated
to the proposition that all men are created equal.
decided not to fly south for the winter. However, soon the weather started to turn so cold
that he reluctantly started southward anyway. In a short time, ice began to form on his wings.
Very quickly, he fell to earth in a barnyard almost frozen.
was passing by and ended up crapping right on the little sparrow. The sparrow thought it was the end,
but then the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings. Warm and happy and able to breathe, he started
to sing. Just then a large cat came by, cleared away the manure, investigating the sounds. He found
the chirping sparrow.
and ate him promptly. Now it may seem that there are no lessons here, but in fact, there are.
There are three. Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy. Number two.
Everyone who gets you out of shit is not necessarily your friends. And lastly, number three, if you're
warm and you're happy in a pile of shit, just keep your mouth shut.
I'm a casting artist. I typically work in iron and bronze and all that stuff, but I got into crankies
and learning about them through Elizabeth. We met during an internship. But yeah, so this is actually
supposed to be a cast iron furnace, which is a blast furnace. So this is what you would see if you were
melting iron. And bear with me, because this is my first cranky. Yeah, so when I was 21, I went to my
first iron fort.
So it was just really hot and overwhelming.
So an iron core is an event where an iron furnace melts iron for past metal sculpture.
It's a place where, one, you learn about hot metal. You learn how to make some mistakes.
And it's also a place for found family. So every cast iron artist is part of the ongoing family tree.
So I started learning through Cast Iron, through Marjole Beans, who teaches over in Boston, Massachusetts.
So she was really the person who first taught me and got me going into iron.
and also Jerry Massey. Now I'm 26 and I've gone to multiple iron cores and also ransom and I've learned
a lot throughout the process.
all the way to the end. Be sure to check out Sculptor Trails in Salisbury if you want to do some iron
core. And now we're going to invite everyone to come on stage, check out some crankies, and make a scroll.