entertaining infinity

the writing thing (here we are)

I've been hiding out a little bit. 

Doing a lot of writing, but not a lot on here (is this refrain getting old?) ... I apologize to the faithful few for going into the cave.

I'm not sure I'm "out" entirely, but I know that I've been remiss with The Writing Thing (i was afraid this might happen) ... and after last weekend's session with my writing group, one of my babes put her brilliance out there on her blog (i've been encouraging it for ages), and the inspiration that I got from the inspiration that SHE got (don't you love it when that happens?), I realized that this could be just the (loving) kick in the ass that I needed from the universe to get something up here again.

And since the prompt that got Sue moving was here we are, I thought I'd offer it to all of you.  And to me too. 

Sit in front of the computer or a piece of paper and write ... don't edit, don't think too much, don't worry if it goes from topic to topic (like mine does) ... just see where it takes you. (it's practice, remember ...)

Sue's response is here.  And mine, below.

here we are

Here we are.  Coming into September already.  Days shortening (and each night when i drive home from work, or on my way to the gym, it's darker and it freaks me out a bit) ... autumn just around the corner.  Mom's birthday coming up.  She would have been ... what? 70?  Or is it 71?  How is it that I forget?  How is it that she can be gone 4 1/2 years already.  (i get that she died.  i get it ... i was there when it happened, but ... i can't believe she's still dead ...)  And The Kid is going to be 21.  How can that be?  Wasn't I just chewing on that soft pudgy neck a few months ago?  Weren't we building Lego castles on the floor last week?  How can his girlfriend be moving in with him this semester?  How can he be grown up? 

Here we are on the precipice of history.  Watching that convention the other night, it felt like a revival.  Alone in my home I watched, clapped and cheered out loud - as if anyone could hear ... as if that mattered.  I couldn't control it; I was so excited.  When I hear people say It's going to be a tight race, I quickly come back: No it won't.  I am using The Force now and The Force is with us.  It has to be.  Oh yes, I drank the Obama Kool-Aid ... I am hopeful, I make the leaps of faith, I am in.  I can't wait to pull the lever in November. 

Here we are.  Makes me think of that James Taylor song: There we are ... drifting through time and space on the face of a little blue ball, falling around the sun.  One in a million, billion, twinkling lights shining out for no one. That song is part of the reason I learned to play the guitar.  I don't play a lot anymore; can't remember the last time I did actually.  Here it sits behind me on this chair ... and when Kathleen came over, her boy wanted to play with it (i'm so not into letting kids goof on my guitar), but I felt bad.  Not for the kid (he'll get over it), but the guitar.  Like, damn ... I've been neglecting you my friend ... someone wants to play you, and it's not me; I'm sorry. 

But then, it might be something to pick up again; when I talked to Brad the other day he told me he'd started playing in a band again, and I was jealous.  I thought of what I'd told TGFKAS when we first started seeing each other.  We were jamming in a trio, and we were gearing up to get some little coffee shop/bar gigs for fun, and I told him I was afraid that our dating would mess with 'the band' (the fleetwood mac principle ...).  Playing/singing with them was so good; it was such a great outlet, and we really played well together.  Sometimes I wonder if our relationship was worth the loss of the band (i can't believe i just said that ...) (i don't really mean that.  mostly.). 

Here we are.  Me and the voices in my head.  Yep, here we are again.  Feeling the edges of this life that I've created.  In an effort to be independent, have I isolated?  In an effort not to be too vulnerable, have I built a wall?  Are my attempts to notice and stay curious about all this SCHTUFF in my life a slick way of by-passing some harder work?  Why do I think it has to be hard work?  Do I make it harder than it has to be cause I think so damn much?  (oy, shit i might actually do that ...)

Here we are.

the writing thing (scream/what i really want to say is ...)

Last Wednesday I hosted my first (in a very long time) weeknight writing group, and the highlight exercise is what I'm offering up for The Writing Thing this week:

Write about things that make you want to scream. 

If there's something specific that's been bugging you, write about that.  If not, try making a list (the lawn guys didn't come again this week; is it just me, or are the mosquitoes particularly violent this year?; chaos in the new office; am i the only woman who doesn't like to go clothes shopping? ...) ... eventually you'll find something that's wanting a little more of your attention, so give that a little room to breathe. 

Then, after you've been writing for a while, write: What I really want to say is ...

What I really want to say is ... is like offering your subconscious an invitation to get beyond surface annoyances and down to the thing you almost didn't know was itching to be let out (or that you were trying to keep down by just focusing on the surface stuff maybe?).  Try What I really want to say is ... a few times as you're writing and see how far in you can get.  Like the women who did this on Wednesday (myself included), you might surprise yourself when you see what's below the frustration with the office chaos and the missing clothes shopping gene.  ;)

(hint: what i really want to say is ... is a helpful construct no matter what you're writing about.  whether it's stuff that makes you want to scream, or if you're writing a report for work; a thank-you note; a blog post ... just get stuff out first, and then drop in what i really want to say is ... and see if that doesn't help you get clearer/deeper in your writing ...)

If you play/post on your blog, leave a link in the comments section; I'd love to see what you get.  :)

the writing thing (wordle/no sense needed)

Sorry loyal ones, I've been MIA again ... got back from my holiday and went smack into full-throttle life and couldn't seem to catch my breath or sit still long enough to post.  But the call of the blog has been big, and for those still with me (you crazy, wonderful, loyal peeps), I promise to reward your loyalty with more schtuff.

And today (a few days late, but still here ...) another offering of The Writing Thing.

I recently uncovered the fabulous Wordle website and decided it was the perfect place for writers to play.

Wordle's a cool application that takes whatever words you throw at it and magically makes them into what they call "word clouds." (kinda like a visual poem).  What makes them so fabulous for The Writing Thing, is that you just write a bunch of words - no sense needed - into their "Paste in a bunch of text" box, and then you hit the "go" button, and voila, you've got yourself a visual poem. (yours to futz with in multi colors and layouts to your obsessed hearts content) (not that i'd know anything about 'obsessed' ...)

Here's a sample using lyrics from Van-the-Man's Into the Mystic:

What I love about wordling your words  is that it helps to remove your editor.  Since it's just a bunch of words randomly tossed, you can simply spill out with whatever wants to come out (it doesn't have to mean anything in particular), and it still winds up feeling pretty brilliant. (a fabulous exercise for the too-attached-to-having-to-make-it-perfect sorta writer)

You can save your brilliance on Wordle's Gallery, or take a screenshot and save it for yourself/your blog (what, you think i knew how to do that w/out the help of the fabulous wiki-how?)

Here's one I did tonight ...

Give it a go yourself and then head to the comments section and leave a link to your work on the Wordle Gallery, or your blog.

If you need help getting started, pick out a word from my wordle (or van's ...), and use that as your jumping-off place.

the writing thing (away)

I'm still on my holiday but: have computer and wireless, will blog.

While I've been off on my extended adventures (in ohio at the moment, but on the road home to joisey in about an hour)  (more on the adventures to come), I've been thinking of what Hemingway wrote in A Moveable Feast: "Maybe away from Paris I could write about Paris as in Paris I could write about Michigan ..." so for this writing thing, I offer: Write about being away.

You can write about a road trip ... about a vacation you once took.  What it's like to be away from the essentials.  Write about missing someone who's away.  Or maybe you'll want to write about how, no matter how long you lived there, those native Mainers always said you were "from away."  Or how, as Hemingway says, distance from a person, place or thing provides some essential perspective.  

Just take 15 or 20 minutes ... think about the Hemingway quote, think about being away ... put your pen to the paper (or fingers to the keyboard) and see where it takes you.

(and i'll see you again when i'm no longer away ...)

the writing thing

For ages, women in my writing groups have been telling me that the only time they write is at my monthly workshops.  They asked me to email prompts and exercises to keep them going, and for a while I did that, but not everyone on the mailing list wanted to get them and it got annoying trying to keep track of who got the prompts/exercises and who didn't, and eventually I let the practice go. 

Then I started toying with the idea of offering something through the blog to encourage 'my writers' to keep up their practice in between, but I kept not doing it: there are so many places on the web to find writing prompts - and blogs with better known writers than I who offer up regular creative challenges - so I thought: they don't need me to do it.  Besides, I can get awfully sporadic anyway - what if I get in one of my insular moods and don't feel like posting?

Then in today's group I offered a prompt on "stuff you could write about," and the finished lists went on and on and on with all sorts of great possibilities.  But then I heard what I often hear: But I probably won't write any of these things without group. 

So while it's obvious that there's tons of stuff to write about, they often don't do it because they like/need the structure.  Or encouragement.  Or they want the group synergy.  (or some combo of the three) (not that i can relate or anything ...) ;) 

And since people have been expressing interest in an in-between prompt thing more often lately, today I decided: why the hell not?  (i like the dialog on ze blog, don't i?  might this not encourage some?)  (hm.)  And so ... to encourage 'my writers,' and to encourage me, and to encourage whoever happens to read this who feels like writing and wants a little kick-start, I introduce (for lack of a more creative title) The Writing Thing.  My intention is to do it fortnightly ... maybe turn it into a weekly Thing.  We'll see.

I'll offer up a prompt: a word or a phrase; a visual, suggested activity or meme ... something that gives you a springboard to play with and see where it takes you.  If you're a blogger and you want to link to your Thing, post it in the comments. If you don't blog but want to share what you do, shoot me an email; I'd love to see it (and maybe i'll do a "guest spot" response from time to time?).  If you just want to journal and keep it to yourself, have at it; or if you don't want to share the specifics of what you wrote, but you feel like commenting on how it goes, that's cool too.  (you know i like the dialog and feedback ...)  :)  (for those new to blog-land: to comment, go down to the bottom of the post, click on "comments" and put your thoughts there ...)

We'll see how it goes.  (infinite possibilities, don'tcha know.)

And on that note ... how 'bout we do something kinda obvious for our first go:

Write about infinity.