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Who Knows
I just attended my third consecutive Write on the Sound writer’s conference in Edmonds, Washington. These gatherings always bombard me with new thoughts and ideas while stirring up my mind. The conference mental rush undoubtedly causes plenty of thought, the trick is to get some to flow out of the hand and onto the page. One of my chosen sessions started with three writing prompts (none of which did anything for me, so I wandered off on my own a little).
***
I often lay awake recalling how good it used to be.
The days back in time when with no effort, no thought, nothing – it just happened.
At the end of a day I could just turn on the radio, lay down and drift away… for hours.
Very different from my current life – I could stay asleep.
***
The question comes up, “Do writing conference’s help you become a better writer?”
For me sharing time with others interested in learning about writing, from other writers, charges a battery (that for many years I didn’t know that I had). So as long these gatherings stir something in me I’ll go, as for becoming a better writer – who knows?
Grape Wrath
Grape Wrath
Angry (often emotional) mood change following the consumption of wine.
Driving on the Bridge – to Write about Walking
Walking – Writing Workshop
August 22, 2015 I attended another Writing Workshop taught by Matt Love at the Fort George Brewery in Astoria, Oregon.
This was my second time in the former car dealership showroom turned brewery conference room, sitting amongst some kegs of aging beer and learning more about writing.
From the various prompts, discussion, breaks to walk around Astoria and a strong beer – I ended up with this:
Ranger Bombed
I usually walk with purpose (I have a dog) and out of necessity (my back chronically reminds me) – I do this daily. Often I simply wish to walk for no reason, to range about. Today my purpose was to unwind my mind and let my feet range.
When walking I typically try not to think – it is my escape. I am however easily distracted by people (not today) and architecture (Astoria has plenty worthy of noticing). While glancing at older buildings (more refreshened since my last visit) and ruins of pilings wobbling in the river, I noticed something new. Colorful bits of random display, knitted patches of several different people’s artwork twisted, wrapped and tied around posts, benches and a gate. Public displays of an orchestrated effort to grab attention and brighten the day for those who notice.
Today my mind was bombed by yarn.
Magic
“Everyone wants some magical solution for their problem and everyone refuses to believe in magic.” — The Mad Hatter
Paws & Reflection
How do they steal hearts?
Miniature versions of promise,
rapid growth and gradual change.
Soft souls wrapped in warm fur,
kind spirits oozing through soft eyes.
Overflowing with delight,
playful creatures learning and teaching.
Twitching whiskers move wild tails,
quiet walks find peaceful sleep.
When the thievery stops,
a piece of heart dies.
“Hey There”
“Hey there”, she said after our common friend introduced us. I went from sipping a beer and people watching at Doc’s Tavern (minding my normal – alone business) to shaking hands with Christa. A sparkle in her eyes showed me something unexpectedly bright in the otherwise dark familiar place. A couple of rounds and few slow songs later – things changed. The lies that I had told myself about destiny and being alone, walls that time built to lean against and pretend, the words “Not for me” said out loud as if to protect. Dissolved. She stole them all with one kiss.
Days End
Memoir Writing Workshop
I attended a Memoir Writing Workshop of thirteen Oregonian’s and myself – taught by Matt Love at the Fort George Brewery in Astoria, OR on May 9, 2015.
This former car dealership showroom turned brewery conference room was great for sitting amongst some kegs of aging beer and learning more about writing.
From the various handouts and prompts a few standout for me:
I chose from a list of Writing Quotes “I hate writing, I love having written.” –Dorothy Parker
From this choice I wrote:
I completely agree – I hated writing and all “English” classes all the way through school. Too many rules! I saved Writing 101 for my last class of my Twenty-Year Two-Year degree.
When life cracked me open after my dog died I started writing about her to preserve my memories. I love that.
Another exercise was to choose a utensil from a pile of spoons, forks and knives. I chose a damaged fork with an ornate handle.
From this I wrote:
My writing about life with Sarrah covers one part perfectionist, one part bent, another damaged and lastly ending realigned differently – All working together for a carved cause.
Some other prompts of interest to me were:
A turning point
Start with a line of dialogue/conversation
A lie
Bliss
Can Bryan Write? 