Crafting Readers

Items

• Do You Remember Candle Cove? / "Candle Cove"
  This crafted object combines the artistic practice of painting and video editing on a laptop’s screen to explore Kris Straub’s Candle Cove. The edited video uses a mixture of uploaded content on YouTube to examine how Candle Cove was shared online as part of the digital genre of creepypasta (taken from the computer commands “copy and paste”). The video also investigates the text’s thematic placement within the wider horror genre by sampling clips from popular horror movies, such as Perfect Blue (1997) and The Ring (2002). The painted screen reflects the narrative delivery of Straub’s text, with each color representing a character in the story. Together, the colors highlight the role of individual and collective memory in Straub’s story. When combined, these artistic forms reflect the themes of Candle Cove whereby one’s memory and understanding of images are called into question. Through this crafted object, I considered the narrative form and genre of Candle Cove. CEDAR FLYNN ON WHAT THIS CRAFTED OBJECT TEACHES US: Kris Straub’s short horror story, Candle Cove, explores the malleable barrier between memory and fiction. Narratively, the story is delivered through a group of characters detailing their memories of watching a disturbing childhood show. Throughout the narrative, characters question whether the program even existed at times asking if their memories of the program are manufactured or perhaps even a “dream” (Straub 26). The finale of the story reflects the characters’ questioning of their memory back onto the reader, revealing that the show’s imagery was in fact nothing but “dead air for 30 minutes” (Straub 27). It becomes the reader’s responsibility to decide whether the memories presented were fictional or something more horrific. Originally published on Kris Straub’s website, ichorfalls.com, in 2009, Candle Cove was positively received for how it used its digital format to deliver its horror. Because the story is formatted as a message board, an online reader of the story could easily read the text unaware that it is a piece of fiction. As Joe Ondrak writes, the message board presentation grants the story a “degree of verisimilitude” whereby an online reader of the narrative takes it as “a ‘found’ conversation between real people” (Ondrak 174). The digital world’s façade of reality presents the horror in the story as a real event. For a reader unaware of the fictitious nature of Straub’s text, they too are made to question whether the show existed in the real world. This façade was further strengthened with Candle Cove being shared online within the tradition of creepypasta. Creepypastas are horror texts that were originally spread over the internet. For scholars such as Valentia Tanni, creepypastas are the internet’s “digital folklore,” with the narratives being a collaborative process using a multitude of artistic media “that anyone can contribute to” (Tanni 84). For Candle Cove, the text first spread online with “people copying and pasting the link to the original story” (Ondrak 174). However, people began sharing the story in many ways, from “performing it on real forums and message boards” to creating YouTube videos claiming to be real episodes of the diegetic television show (Ondrak 174-175). Candle Cove’s spread as a creepypasta blurred the line between reality and fiction: online, one can stumble across discussions and videos presenting the narrative of Candle Cove as a real story without the knowledge of its fictitious nature. Because Candle Cove was originally published digitally, I wanted to capture its digital origins in my crafted object. To achieve this effect, I decided to focus on visuals on a laptop’s screen. Inherent to the tradition of creepypastas is the combination of artistic forms to spread a story, so I felt it would be appropriate to use two main artistic approaches. The approaches are split between physical and digital art: physically, the laptop has had its screen painted over with acrylic, while digitally, an edited video is played on the screen. To highlight the visual aspect of my crafted object, I decided that video would not contain sound. My project aims to explore how the text is narratively delivered and how it was spread as a creepypasta. The concept of a painted screen was inspired by Canadian artist IAIN BAXTER&’s art series titled Television Works 1999-2006. While BAXTER& states his use of a painted screen is focused on the “pervasiveness of technology & its relation to our natural and social landscapes,” for my crafted object, I used the image of the painted screen to highlight the role of collective and individual memory in Straub’s narrative (Iain Baxter&). With the story’s narrative being delivered through the characters exchanging individual memories, at times the characters correct details of one another’s forum posts. These corrections highlight that through the exchange of their individual memories, the characters are constructing a collective memory of the past. To reflect the construction of collective memory in my crafted object, the laptop’s screen was painted in four different colored quadrants, with each individual color representing one of the characters in Straub’s story. Like how individual memories in Straub’s text are combined to create a collective, the individual colors cover only part of the screen, and it is only when they are viewed collectively that the entire screen is filled. When planning how to paint the laptop’s screen, I questioned whether there was any way to signify the digital nature of Straub’s text with paint. I realized that this could be done through visual representation. To visualize the digital aspect of Straub’s text, the colors blue, yellow, red, and green were chosen based on their resemblance to the colors in the 2009 Microsoft logo. To create these colors, the physical mixing of paints was required. As I mixed paints to achieve desired colors, the process reminded me of the mixture of forms that Candle Cove can appear in as a creepypasta. Like how mixing the paint together forms a new color, I realized that the different online presentations of Candle Cove, whether retellings or fan-created videos, still come together to form the digital myth of the text. As a creepypasta, the narrative of Candle Cove is constructed through a mixture of forms. The edited video was directly inspired by filmmaker Jane Schoenburn’s experimental 2018 documentary, A Self-Induced Hallucination. Schoenburn’s documentary is constructed “entirely of footage uploaded to YouTube” to explore how the creepypasta “The Slender Man” was spread online across 2009-2018 (A Self-induced Hallucination 00:40). Similarly to Schoenburn’s documentary, the edited video I created uses clips from YouTube videos to visually display how Candle Cove is shared online. While I wanted the video to showcase how the story was spread online, I also hoped that the video would spread the story itself. Ideally, a viewer could watch the video and gain some semblance of Candle Cove’s narrative. To achieve my desire, I focused on how Soviet filmmaker, Sergi Eisenstein, claimed that the editing technique of montage can be used to present “an idea that arises from the collision of independent shots” (Eisenstein 49). With Eisenstein’s commentary in mind, I realized I could structure my video based on the plot of Candle Cove and use the pairing of clips to communicate the story’s narrative. One concern I had when beginning to gather content for the video was whether to include clips from the official adaptation of Candle Cove, season one of Syfy network’s Channel Zero (2016). I felt concerned that the use of clips from an official adaptation would distract from how the story was spread using fan-created content. However, as I gathered content to create my video, my concern was lessened. I discovered that, on YouTube, videos, such as “Candle Cove Clip #1 – Bravery Cave” by “itzAdyden,” have clips from Syfy’s show uploaded with little to no reference to their original source, instead presented them as real episodes of the show described in Straub’s story. Through videos like “itzAdyen’s,” Syfy’s adaptation becomes recontextualized as Candle Cove’s fictional program, allowing users to use the content in the spread of the creepypasta. Because of this process of recontextualization, I had no qualms about using clips from Syfy’s adaptation within my video, as I realized they still captured how the story was spread online. As I edited the video, I realized that through the editing process, I could explore Candle Cove through the lens of comparative analysis with other horror texts. Thinking about Eisenstein’s theory of “intellectual montage,” where the pairing of shots suggests an intellectual linkage, I began to add clips from horror movies I felt explored similar themes to Straub’s story (Eisenstein 82). Through comparative analysis, I became aware of how Candle Cove’s horror is presented by focusing on human fears of technology. For example, the imagery of the static television screen at the end of Candle Cove is present in films such as Poltergeist (1982) or The Ring (2002), and when this connection is visually signified, the text’s thematic similarities to these films are made apparent. Candle Cove, like The Ring and Poltergeist, uses the concept of a sinister technological force to inflict fear on its readers, focusing on how technology could possibly alter one’s understanding of their reality. As I completed my final project by combining the painted screen and edited video, I became filled with delight. I loved that when my chosen art forms were combined, the contents of the video became visually blurred by the painted screen. Like the characters of Straub’s text questioning their own memories of specific images, a viewer of my object is made to question the visually obscured images on the laptop’s screen. I felt pleased that with my crafted object I was able to communicate central themes of Straub’s text within an artistic form. Most of all, though, I greatly enjoyed that the process of creating my object made me experiment with two different artistic approaches that led to new understandings of my chosen text.
• Matchbox Crops / "Burn Our Bodies Down"
  My crafted object is a matchbox that I painted to show the night sky over Margot’s grandmother’s crops. I drew two matches on opposite sides of the matchbox to represent Margot and her family on opposing sides but left the rest of the sides unpainted. I also included the quotation “Keep a fire burning, a fire is what saves you” because it is repeated continuously throughout the novel. I used acrylic paint to paint the background; paint pens for the corn, moon, stars, lettering and grass; and then felt markers to outline. This process made me think about the physicality and symbolism of fire in Burn Our Bodies Down. Furthermore, I wanted to combine the symbols of fire (by using the quotation) and growth (by depicting the corn crops) to show how, as the novel suggests, destruction can be necessary to starting over. FERN HILL ON WHAT THIS CRAFTED OBJECT TEACHES US: For my final project, I painted a matchbox, using acrylic paint, markers, and paint pens to create a cornfield at night. On the two ends of the matchbox, I put a quotation that is repeated throughout the novel: “Keep a fire burning; a fire is what saves you” (Power 7). At first, I struggled to decide which crafting techniques I should use because there were so many different ones we tried in class, and I was unsure if I wanted to try something entirely different or bridge off one of our class techniques. Originally, I had thought about doing something with collage because it is a technique I often do for fun, but instead I decided to try painting, which is outside my comfort zone. I decided to experiment with a variety of acrylic paint, paint pens, and markers. I first painted the background, which I struggled a bit with because the matchbox logo kept showing through the acrylic paint. Next, I used paint pens to do details such the lettering, corn, moon, grass, and stars. Finally, I waited for the paint to dry and then used a marker to outline small details and add a small drawn match on parallel sides of the matchbox. In my crafting, I wanted to capture the eeriness of an empty cornfield at night because much of Burn Our Bodies Down takes place at night as Margot sneaks around to avoid being caught by her grandmother (Vera). Similarly, I wanted to show the uneasiness of having to sneak around in an unknown place in the dark where you do not know what is waiting in the shadows. Likewise, I drew two matches facing opposite sides of the matchbox to represent how Margot and her mother (Josephine) are genetically clones but have grown into separate beings from each other. Josephine and Margot are biologically the same, so they should be completely the same in character as well; however, they have become increasingly different individuals because of how they were raised. Though both women carry many of the same traits, such as being stubborn, Margot was able to break out of the cycle Vera started, but Josephine couldn’t. Some parts of the matchbox I chose to leave unpainted because I wanted them to speak for themselves. Specifically, I wanted the side that read “keep out of reach of children” to be visible because it felt relevant to how Josephine kept family secrets from Margot until she was a teenager and went looking for answers herself. Additionally, I left the matchbox empty inside to represent how Margot is looking to find her identity in her family history. Throughout the crafting process, I found myself thinking about Margot and how she explores the complexities in her family relationships. I wanted to depict a physical nod to Margot’s relationship with Josephine in my crafting, as in the parallel matches that I drew, because their mother-daughter relationship is what prompts Margot to find out what happened to the rest of her family without Josephine’s help. Burn Our Bodies Down was well received by readers and critics who were fans of Power’s first novel, Wilder Girls, and said her second novel was “full of twists and turns” (Schulz). Power is known for the eerie horror fiction she creates through her dynamic characters, intense personal relationships, and backdrops that make you feel as though you’re a part of the novel. Her rich world building “engulfs you,” which makes Power’s stories incredibly compelling and impossible to put down (Schulz). If you’re like me, you might even finish the entirety of Burn Our Bodies Down in about 2 days. Moreover, Burn Our Bodies Down was originally published in July 2020, right after the initial COVID-19 lockdown. The pandemic-induced lockdown is significant because it made many people have their workplaces shifted online and work from home. Due to people being in their homes and unable to socialize like they used to, countless people had time to return to new or old hobbies such as reading. This return to reading saw the increasing popularity of people sharing book recommendations on platforms such as TikTok and creating entire reading communities under hashtags like #BookTok. Power was one of the authors who benefited from reading’s increased popularity during the pandemic because her first novel, Wilder Girls, had been published in July 2019. Readers became hooked on her writing and ended up reading her new novel, Burn Our Bodies Down. Burn Our Bodies Down focuses on “taking something familiar and twisting it just enough to tell you something is wrong,” which made me think of how matchboxes are everyday objects that have the potential to be dangerous if the user decides to make them so (source ). I believe the matchbox and matches emphasize how a fire can bring warmth and cook food for you to eat and survive on but can also bring immense destruction and death. Likewise, Margot learns the truth about why Josephine hid Vera from her but at the cost of losing her relationship with both of them. Margot learns about where she comes from, makes a best friend for the first time, and discovers how strong she is on her own. However, Margot also goes through immense turmoil as she discovers that Vera is manipulative and cruel, her best friend is murdered, and she is forced to burn down Vera’s farm to break the cycle of cloning and abuse in her family. Comparably, Margot’s journey is related to how a match can start a fire and help you survive. For Margot, fire is what “saves” her but at the cost of using its destruction to start anew (Power 7). Margot using fire to put an end to her suffering is a crucial full-circle moment in the novel because it is what caused Margot and Josephine to have one of their most vicious fights in the past when she accidentally let a candle burn out yet fire is also what saves her from Vera and Josephine’s manipulation. Last, this project taught me a lot about the connection between crafting and literary analysis. Through taking the time to sit with Burn Our Bodies Down over the course of a semester and making my matchbox, I gained a deeper connection to my text. If I had not done the Crafting Literacies course, I wouldn’t have noticed the multiple ways in which fire is a continuous symbol throughout the novel. Before doing this crafting project, I read and enjoyed Burn Our Bodies Down; however , I finished reading it in a very short amount of time. Since I finished reading the novel so quickly, I didn’t absorb the symbolism nearly as much. By doing this project, I re-read my novel and picked up on foreshadowing, the repeated symbolism of fire, and many details about Josephine and Vera that I hadn’t noticed the first time around. Furthermore, I believe this project has given me a new way to analyze literary texts that will continue to expand my knowledge in the future.
• Antigone Burying Polynices / "Antigone"
  This amphora visually narrates the story of Antigone, a heroine from Sophocles’ timeless tragedy. Crafted in the tradition of ancient Greek black-figure pottery, but using modern materials like household paints, the vase depicts Antigone burying her brother Polynices in defiance of King Creon’s decree. The design incorporates classical motifs such as the meander pattern, symbolizing eternity and justice, and gold accents, highlighting the sacredness of burial rites. The crafting process involved modern materials like household paints, reinterpreting ancient techniques while maintaining the spirit of storytelling. The amphora mirrors Antigone’s themes of defiance, familial loyalty, and the tension between human and divine laws. Like its ancient counterparts, this vase preserves and reimagines a timeless story for contemporary audiences, bridging the past and present. AVNI KHEPAR ON WHAT THIS CRAFTED OBJECT TEACHES US: The amphora vase has long been a vessel for practical use and artistic storytelling. Its creation reflects the intersection of form, function, and cultural legacy. In crafting an amphora inspired by Sophocles' Antigone, I aimed to reinterpret the ancient tradition of black-figure painting to convey the play's themes of defiance, burial rites, and legacy. My modern crafting process diverged significantly from ancient techniques, yet this very contrast highlighted the timeless relevance of Antigone's struggle. Through this project, I discovered how physical creation can deepen engagement with literary texts, translating abstract themes into tangible art that preserves and reinterprets cultural narratives. The amphora has a storied history in ancient Greece, functioning as both a utilitarian object and an artistic medium. These two-handled vessels, often used for storing and transporting goods like wine and oil, also held a more profound cultural significance. Amphorae played a central role in funerary practices, serving as grave markers or containers for burial offerings. Their shape, with a vast body and narrow neck, allowed for practicality and decoration, making them ideal for storytelling through imagery (Cartwright). The black-figure painting technique, developed in Corinth around 700 BCE and later perfected in Athens, revolutionized pottery by transforming it into a narrative art form. Potters and painters used a unique slip (that is, a mixture of clay and water) that turned black during firing to create silhouetted figures on the natural red clay surface. Details were etched into the black slip, revealing the red clay beneath and allowing for intricate depictions of mythological, historical, and everyday scenes (Cartwright). This technique was not only decorative; it functioned to educate, commemorate, and preserve stories for future generations. My amphora draws from this tradition, using black paint to depict a pivotal moment from Antigone: the burial of Polynices. My crafting reflected a modern adaptation of ancient techniques, blending resourcefulness with creative intent. Unlike ancient artisans, who meticulously shaped their vessels on pottery wheels and employed multi-stage firing processes, I began with a pre-formed vase created during a pottery class with my sister. At the time, the vase had no specific purpose, but this project gave it new meaning as a narrative vessel for Antigone. The design of my amphora was carefully curated to reflect key themes of the play. The meander pattern, a continuous geometric motif, adorns the bottom section of the vase. This pattern symbolizes eternity and the cyclical nature of justice, echoing Antigone's defiance of Creon's temporal authority in favour of the gods' eternal laws. Her assertion that the "unwritten and infallible laws of the gods … are eternal" (Sophocles, lines 455–456) aligns with the timelessness suggested by the meander. The central image of Antigone burying Polynices captures the emotional and moral core of the play. Using black paint, I depicted her in a dynamic pose, pouring burial soil over her brother's body. Gold accents highlight the sacredness of the act, signifying Polynices' royal lineage and the divine significance of burial rites. White details emphasize Antigone's purity and moral clarity, contrasting with the dark, oppressive forces represented by Creon's decree. The crafting began with taping the vase to create clean lines for the meander pattern. Painter's tape allowed me to achieve this precision, but I believe a nod to the meticulous artistry of ancient Greek pottery is warranted. Next, I painted the background with a terracotta-coloured matte base to mimic the natural clay tones of traditional amphorae. Once the base was dry, I sketched the central scene of Antigone burying Polynices, carefully balancing simplicity and narrative clarity. Black paint brought the scene to life, while gold and white accents added depth and meaning. Finally, I applied a clear glaze to the black paint to unify the design and provide a polished finish. Working with modern materials posed unique challenges. Achieving the smooth textures and precise details characteristic of black-figure pottery was difficult with household paints and brushes. My work's uneven lines and textures reflect these limitations but also evoke the human imperfections central to Antigone's themes. Painting with limited resources mirrored Antigone's resourcefulness in fulfilling her sacred duty, reinforcing the connection between craft and narrative. Each stroke of paint became an act of storytelling, transforming abstract ideas into physical art. Sophocles' Antigone, composed around 441 BCE, remains one of the most enduring works of classical Greek drama and is widely known by English majors. The play explores universal themes of justice, resistance, and the sacredness of burial rites, centring on Antigone's defiance of Creon's decree forbidding the burial of her brother Polynices. For the Greeks, proper burial was not merely a personal obligation but a sacred duty, essential for ensuring a soul's passage to the afterlife. Antigone's actions assert Polynice's humanity and challenge Creon's attempt to erase him from collective memory. The amphora's role as a funerary object parallels these themes. By depicting Antigone's burial of Polynices, my vase emphasizes her commitment to preserving his legacy and upholding the gods' eternal laws. The meander pattern reinforces the cyclical nature of justice and morality, while the black-figure technique connects the story to ancient Greece's cultural and artistic traditions. Crafting the amphora allowed me to engage with these themes tactilely, translating the play's abstract conflicts into a physical medium that celebrates memory and resistance. Antigone was first performed during the City Dionysia, an ancient Athens festival celebrating art and religious devotion. The theatre was a communal experience, offering audiences a platform to explore moral and civic dilemmas (Goldhill). The play's tension between divine and human authority resonated deeply with its audience, as burial rites were sacred obligations that reflected both individual and collective values. Over the centuries, Antigone has transcended its cultural origins to inspire movements for justice and human rights. Its themes of resistance and sacrifice have remained relevant, highlighting the power of individual conviction in the face of authoritarian rule. As a narrative vessel, my amphora aligns with this legacy, serving as both a commemorative object and a medium for retelling Antigone's timeless story. The crafting process allowed me to situate the play within its historical and cultural framework while reinterpreting it for a modern audience. Crafting this amphora deepened my understanding of the intersection between material creation and literary analysis. The imperfections in my work, from uneven lines to improvised materials, mirrored the human flaws and moral struggles central to Antigone. As Antigone's defiance highlights the tension between human and divine law, my crafting process underscored the fragility and persistence required to transform abstract ideas into physical art. This project also illuminated the enduring relevance of ancient art and storytelling. By adopting the black-figure tradition, I connected with a craft that has preserved cultural narratives for millennia. Creating the amphora became an act of preservation and reinterpretation, bridging the ancient and the contemporary. Through this project, I gained a deeper appreciation for how craft can illuminate the universal themes of literature, enriching both the creative and analytical aspects of interpretation.