Writers!
Abandon the staid center, your faculty meetings and lattes, your unimaginative friends, your practical cars and shoes, your scramble to perceive the cultural norm!
Life is alive at its fringes!
Break through your glass ceiling to be solar-powered by the brilliance above!
Find the thing that makes your pulse burst in your ears every second, that moves you like a perpetual motion machine!
Corner your cowardice, loose the tethers, skyrocket to rock stardom!
Writers!
Lift the tool at hand!
Assume a mandate to observe and compellingly describe the minute and the miraculous!
Uncover your faith and wonder of the world with words resonant and rhythmic!
Bring people to their senses in the most bodily sense of the word!
Unearth your voice, and harness the river of words -
Be a conduit for whatever it is that rings through you!
Lift your voices to sing, tremble, wail -
Pierce people’s hearts, shake them by their lapels from the page, and leave us all on our knees before the beauty and terror of it all!
Writers!
The unhinged universe awaits your divine proclamations!
Showing posts with label writing prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing prompt. Show all posts
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
A Memento
I'm taking Ellie Waterston's class, The Story You Came to Tell. The following was a writing prompt in class - what object are we carrying that we might consider a memento of sorts...
Blue fleece, reversible red mittens that I've had for at least 16 years - so durable, that polyester fleece. How many hands I've held in them, how many times I've swiped my runny nose and been grateful I could toss them in the wash - how much I've clung to them, the sheaths of my own hands, for their warmth, the memory of coming across them with my mom on a family vacation in New Hampshire when she was healthy and I was ready to rap on the door of the world as a high school senior.
They are big and a bit cartoonish, always at the ready, fetishized to the point that my partner and all my friends join my frenzy of looking for them when they've been misplaced. I am amazed that they've lasted and stuck around this long, companions on my journeys across time zones and states, through 3 cool seasons a year, and in contact with innumerable doors, banisters, steering wheels, snowballs...
Blue fleece, reversible red mittens that I've had for at least 16 years - so durable, that polyester fleece. How many hands I've held in them, how many times I've swiped my runny nose and been grateful I could toss them in the wash - how much I've clung to them, the sheaths of my own hands, for their warmth, the memory of coming across them with my mom on a family vacation in New Hampshire when she was healthy and I was ready to rap on the door of the world as a high school senior.
They are big and a bit cartoonish, always at the ready, fetishized to the point that my partner and all my friends join my frenzy of looking for them when they've been misplaced. I am amazed that they've lasted and stuck around this long, companions on my journeys across time zones and states, through 3 cool seasons a year, and in contact with innumerable doors, banisters, steering wheels, snowballs...
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