Once upon a time, or maybe twice, there was an unearthly paradise called Pepperland. Eighty-thousand leagues beneath the sea it lay, or lie. I'm not too sure. ~from The Yellow Submarine
When Peter walked into the classroom on Wednesday and saw our coffee filter ribbons hanging from the ceiling, he announced, "It's Pepperland!" His nanny was delighted explaining that she'd just days before introduced him to the Beatles' movie The Yellow Submarine.
This inspired me to augment the installation, adding a seaweed bestrewn rock (bean bag chair) . . .
. . . the two giant flowers that have appeared in at least four Fremont Summer Solstice Parades, while spending the rest of the year as classroom decorations . . .
. . . and our box of model sea creatures, while retaining a couple of our magnetic fishing holes.
Pepperland is a tickle of joy on the blue belly of the universe. ~from The Yellow Submarine
We had lots of adventures in Pepperland. Strange adventures, like when a couple of the fierce, hollow sharks belied their carnivorous reputations and belched up flax seed all over the blue universe, becoming sand for the bottom of our sea -- sand we could eat by scooping it up in our jaws.
Of course, the sharks couldn't contain themselves forever and returned, inevitably, to their meat-eating ways with a vengeance.
Or how about the time we all retreated beyond the tangle of rainbow seaweed to create life, wielding our scissor-wands to turn wastepaper into our own school of magnetic fish to swim with the larger ones Teacher Tom had cut before our arrival.
And for a time Pepperland rose above the waves, into the air, where we found a box of neckties that we tied together to make long fishing lines that hung to the ground and caught, not fish at all, but teddy bears and stuffed doggies.
Look, it's a school of whales.
They look a little bit old for school.
University of "Wales."
They look like drop-outs to me. ~from The Yellow Submarine
The scale of things was all off in Pepperland, a place where whales could hide amongst the leaves of giant undersea flowers, as if they were mere prey rather than the largest animal on earth.
Even we ourselves could hide there, under the petals, disappearing into a hidden place from which to watch the crazy goings on.
And then, what's this? The leaves became wings on a monstrous butterfly, flapping bizarrely beneath the waves!
Oh no! It sprouted a second head!
Help! Help Help!
No thanks, don't need any. ~from The Yellow Submarine
And then we went home and the story was over.
It's all in the mind, you know. ~from The Yellow Submarine