Had an “Imaginative Storm” workshop in college today with Mr James Navé (entrepreneur, poet, performer). Simple stuff but really inspiring. I learned today that if I’m stuck with my writing I need to stop and write something else….brainstorm it, word bomb it, free flowing, write anything. Wrote a piece today, and even though it is not related to the book it inspired something in me for the book. It showed me that getting a block with the book does not mean I have a block with writing.
So…here is one of the pieces I wrote today based on an exercise called “I don’t remember”…..pick you favourite room and rather than concentrating on what you remember you focus on what you don’t…and then just see what memories come out of it. Quite proud of it. Hope you like it. D x
I don’t remember what this room looked like when we moved in. I know it was different but I don’t know how. The tiles and the awful pebble dashed walls haven’t changed but, the room is still completely different. It feels different. I don’t remember exactly how it felt back then but, I know it didn’t feel warm and safe like it does now. I do remember how the crack in the tile, near the leg of the kitchen chair, was made or how the permanent marker got dragged down the length of the back door in happy, squiggly, flowing lines by chubby pink hands. I don’t remember how many times I’ve washed dishes in that sink but I do remember how it feels to sit at that table with family and friends and talk until the light fades and the candle is lit on the kitchen table. I don’t remember what pictures hung on these walls when we viewed the house all those years ago but, I do remember the pride in little eyes as I hung the latest crayon created masterpiece on the wall alongside the “tick-tock” clock. I remember the hugs, the spills, the tears, the tantrums, the hum of talk and laughter. On quiet days I don’t remember why I wished so much for the peace and the silence but, I do remember how the busy, full times make me whole and how they will live in my heart until my end of days. I don’t remember life alone, before them, and I don’t care to.