writing + design, by two brothers

You already know the plot of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree, but I’m going to recount it anyway. A young boy plays on a tree in his backyard, and then he grows up. He continues to use the tree: for profit, for shelter, for recreation. Finally, the boy becomes an elderly man. And he uses the tree one last time: for sitting.

We believe that there are few things in this world worth holding as universal truths, though The Giving Tree may reveal a few. One of them, albeit metaphorical, seems straightforward enough: sometimes you are the boy, and sometimes you are the stump. If you believe this reading to be insightful, then we probably have something for you. Or if you find that interpretation rather shallow and undeveloped, we've probably got you covered, too.

Welcome to The Stumped. Have a seat, and stay awhile.

 
TRAV ISLAND.jpg

Travis Wood is...

A former teacher, writing and recovering in North Carolina. He writes for The Stumped, though he believes that writing is largely pointless, as George Saunders is already doing it. He loves beer dearly and maintains no opinions about coffee.

IMG_4955.jpg

Ryan Wood is...

A graphic designer, creating and lounging in Los Angeles. He does almost all of the artwork for The Stumped, and owns zero crypto-currency. Were it not for coffee, he would maintain no opinions whatsoever.

 
 

And if you're on the "Internet"...

Go ahead and see what we're talking about on Twitter and Instagram below.

 
"If nothing comes of Mannheim, you still have your plan to go to Mainz, Frankfurt, Weilburg, Koblenz, etc.; one should always look for places as close to each other as possible so that, if you can, the journeys should be kept short and you can s
"Under his helmet, up against his pack, / After so many days of work and waking, / Sleep took him by the brow and laid him back. There, in the happy no-time of his sleeping, / Death took him by the heart. There heaved a quaking / Of the aborted
We, like many of you, have spent the past two weeks in various states of mind: panic, frustration, rage, sorrow - the list feels endless. Yet we've been heartened and bolstered by the Black Lives Matter protests taking place across the country. As a
"In a dog-cart he perched his companion for a rattle over Devonshire hills, on one of the likeliest of which he brought his horse, who, it was true, had bolted, down with such violence that the occupants of the cart were hurled forward and that
"How lovely the view was that day! The blue sky with its round clouds shed a brightness over everything; the ailanthus had put on a tinge of yellow-green, the hyacinths were budding, the magnolia flowers looked more than ever like rosettes carve
"After dinner to Mr. Evelings; he being abroad, we walked in his garden, and a lovely noble ground he hath endeed. And among other rarities, a hive of Bees; so, as being hived in glass, you may see the Bees making their honey and Combs mighty pl