Alright, I have a fun activity for all of my friends to take part in.
Every now and then, I'm going to propose a creative writing activity.
I know you all enjoy writing, though you're not all in classes which allow you to express your wonderfully creative minds!
What I hope to achieve here is more activity on the blog, a creative outlet, active communication between us all, and ultimately, some fun. :)
So the first activity will be the following, and please take your time in submitting your reply.
Maybe do so in a comment on this post, so they all stay in one place. Like a little gallery! :)
P.S. Seriously, I'm in need of some expression. Anyone notice how many times I used variations of the word, "active"? Sheesh.
Anyhoo, on with the exercise:
Write a “conversation” in which no words are said. Make it as long or short as you please. It must be from the point of view of a stranger, or witness.
Go!
5 comments:
you are so cute. i love you so much!!!! k working on it. :)
ps you're participating too. little miss english major
fo' sho'
I'm totally doing it.
p.s. hint: body language, kind of thing.
Kay, wrote mine in the form of a poem:
a subway station;
wide-eyed child with neatly cut bangs
upturned, snot-nosed, crayola washable
marker-speckled fingers and
beneath them dangling
little mittens on a string
clasping desperate to her mother’s hand
fast as they can rubber boots
scuffing across the tiled floor
cowering away from the underground storm,
rumbling, and swarm
of rushed air like being stung
by a hornet on the hand
and in front of her a man
sitting under a blanket.
a single, heavenly mouth-harp
note boinged from his teeth
and she sniffed in the troubled cold and
wiped nose to her sleeve while
the breathless chaos reflected
in his jostled bones and grey eyes
his sandpaper potato-spud knuckles
stretched and spun
around to offer the
once-silver treasure
in his gum-dirty street palms
delicately reaching to take it
with her china tea-cup fingers
her pottery face, as if
blown off a balcony by
the second blasphemous storm
shattered as she, in wonder had
neglected to hold her mother’s hand.
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