Late night write....
Just a short note wondering if you’ve come up with anything interesting when making the journal dangerous. There are some exercises that are just about strengthening muscles. This is one of them.
It’s a little before 12 as I write to you. Everything is quiet and there’s a kind of responsive stillness in the air. I’ve just finished writing a story that had a beginning and an end, but no middle. I dragged myself through it by checking email and thinking of things to look up online. (Did you know that Sumerian dates back to 2900 B.C.? )
And do you ever wonder how Victorians wasted time?
Stay tuned for a discussion of voice. (Is it different from style? Is it just a mystique?)
Let me know how it’s going…
Thaisa
here are some observations that I wrote (quickly) the other day. I'm thinking this is NOT what you have in mind. But i'm posting so that you can tell me how I can change this up, if you don't mind.
10 observations
1. The tulips sitting on the ledge in front of my bay window. They are not cut flowers, they are planted in dirt and so I have to decide if I’m going to allow them to die or if I will repot them somewhere. So much pressure over a simple gift.
2. The tulips have grown strangely tall. One is beginning to fall to the right, away from the others. Like a group of friends and this one is a slight outsider.
3. The clumps of camellia flowers, pink, white, and rust, on the ground and sitting on top of the other shrubs.
4. Spider webs in the cracks of the porch ceiling.
5. Black dirt under my fingernails.
6. The soles of my sneakers, worn away. When I look closely, I can see the words “designed in Seattle” etched on the soles.
7. The sound of some animal on the roof, scraping.
8. A jar of pens on the coffee table, probably 20 of them, as though I’d ever need all 20.
9. Floyd on my computer screen, looking at me and waiting for me to say something anything.
10. The shine on my keyboard where my right thumb presses over and over on the space key.