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May 26, 2008
Free Writing
Lately, I’ve been writing. I started with some monologues loosely based on people I know, then I moved onto free writing. Free writing-for me-is writing what ever I feel inspired to write without thinking about form or continuity (a technique I learned from one of my English professors, which I found extremely helpful). In my case, I start with a loose idea of the story I want to convey, but try to focus mainly on creating images that I think set the “right” tone. Although, most people find starting with the form helpful, I prefer to do it the other way around-not sure why. Then, typically, I don't touch what I've written until I feel inspired to polish it into something worth reading. Uh....yeah...at this point, most my work get stowed away in a journal NEVER to be read again.
The thing is, I just joined this writing/reading group, and I decided this was a fine time to bring new work to the table while polishing old stuff. So here I go. The next step for the free write below is creating a more coherent structure that I can flesh out. I'm kind of excited see what I can do with it.
Oh. Happy Memorial Day or is Labor Day? Happy whichever. No Happy Memorial Day. Jake just said it's Memorial Day...NOT Labor Day. Funny, not one of my neighbors corrected me this morning-bet they didn't know either. ;)
"Celestial Garden" Free write before I polish it:
Sculpted in this soft but cold celestial garden
We nearly scattered like powdered chalk statues
Spooky in the white world of salt, sugar, diamonds, and glass
In the stillness we watched, enchanted by the obscured color we see
Where liquid crystal oozes over lush leaves
and blood red berries appear like rubies locked in glass
At this moment I feel paralyzed and breakable
I want to be let out into the world I knew before
The world built of dirt, coffee, gravel, and ash
Maybe there in the coal shadows I can move freely-not dissipate
Then you remind me…The Gate
We can’t make in through its thick bound vines or endure the slice of sharp chlorophyll fans skirting spruced-needle warriors
For now we stay
Stay to see if one day the walls will melt into green.
Stay to see if the Keeper keeps promises not fully understood.
Until then, while invisible hands shape ivory dreams into pearls
I’ll be scattering frost with the hope that some will travel over these walls
To the land we chose to leave
Maybe then this flurry can melt and bloom something more constant than snow
But for now we wait out the frost in this soft but cold celestial garden.
Posted by Heidi V. at 6:39 PM | Comments (7)