Writing & Journal Exercises

Red Pen

Red pen lightly rests on my USB cable.  Why is it there?  I used you, you stick!  Yes I did.  Your red liquid scrawled out my point of focus while I took an important call.  I must have set you there without thinking.  Red pencil crayons and markers are upright in a bamboo cup here next to me, beckoning or mocking this dear pen to jump in.   Of course, you're not an animate object, are you pen?  You are depending on me to serve your purpose.  I will.  I will.

In fact, let me grab you now.  *doodles something quickly*  Oh!  Clever!  Touche, red pen.  Yes, that finger puppet does bring back good memories, its true!  I have a picture of this puppet!

My friend dubbed him "Mion" because he looks like a lion and a moose.  Here are more pictures of Mion:

 

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

 

Both

Injured, it lept from branch to branch looking for respite, a red string tied to its leg.  Where ever this tiny bird looked, it saw the brightest golden light but the searing pain struck it dumb, paralyzed with fear.  The desire to jump right into that light and dissolve, was so strong.  It knew it could not and still continue its impulse to live.  So from branch to branch it lept, hoping for respite.

Within a dance of light, there is a center.  The compulsion to both find that center and penetrate, and to allow for the propulsion away from center happens simultaneously.  What cuts through both compulsions that brings you both to center and expanding, is being still, and true to yourself. 

A sketch dons my wall, in black and white.  Next to it,  a second sketch, in colour.   Both expressions of the same idea, both incomplete.

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

Impatiens

                I had a unique and special guest arriving in the Light of May.  To honour this guest I wanted to set the stage in every way I could.  Part of this effort was to buy flowers for the garden.  I found a beautiful flat of bright red impatiens at a local garden centre, one annexed to a popular grocery store.  Happily I bought the entire flat of flowers and a couple pots of other species - piled them all in the back of my sportscar and headed home.
                It seized upon me to dig into the dirt immediately and so I did.  What pleasure that brought me!  My hands and arms muscled their way through the compacted dirt in the huge pots aligned like ornamental lions on either side of the stairs to the entryway.  It felt vigourous and strong to plunge into the earth and then delicate and sweet making sure the new guests, the impatiens, felt comfy in their new beds.
               Weeks later the owner came by and knocked on the door.  Mind you, my visitor had come and gone by then (without mention of the impatiens display) and so I open the door.   "I just wanted to thank you very much for planting these flowers in the front here.  It makes me happy to see them," he said.  He looked tender and sincere.  I replied that I was happy to do so and appreciated him telling me.  (I refrained from telling him that they'd been there for some time already).  A few days later, he came by and gave me $10 saying that he had found it on the ground outside.  I smiled and thanked him.
                I sit here, September, and these impatiens are still growing strong.  They bloomed magnificently for months  - spilling over the sides of the giant pots.  I love how their colour matches the door.  It makes me happy.

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

WaterColour Doodle

Notepad rests on top of a huge watercolour pad of paper.  On the top left hand corner of the facing page is a single image I painted this afternoon.

I was looking out the window and there was a face-like image outline I could see in the threads of the yellow curtain.  I sometimes see images, outlines in things.  Today,  I decided to doodle it with watercolours.

Since it was just an outline, it was easy enough to recreate but soon, as I kept playing with it, it morphed into a recognizeable painting of a face.

It looks upon completion, as an Incan chief with its eyes bleeding.  This I found remarkable as the other day, I had been reading about Incan history.  One of the personages I read about was Yahuar Huacac, "He Who Weeps Blood".  He was captured when he was young and when they saw him bleeding tears of blood, they let him go.  He became famous for this and was given that name.  He also became a co-ruler.

When I'm flowing in my artwork, these sort of revelations often occur.  I never know when I begin what will happen - but soon it shows itself.  I need to trust more.  And be happy doing so.

There was a certain feeling while painting that I get when these things happen.  Its a sort of abandonment and freedom.  A freedom from care and release.  I appreciate the moments as it is so needed now.

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

The Pond

My feet are dipped in the warm water touched by a summer sun.  Swimming past, already seen, is a bass fish.  There are several in this pond.  A pond of average size and one inviting to swimming humans, fish, and a few turtles.  Also accompanying me are many dragonflies.  A new sort too, I've not seen before are everywhere, dive bombing the surface of the water.  There is a surf baord (though I'm not exactly sure why) nestled on the shoreline next to an aluminum boat.  I'm sitting on a wooden dock writing as the wind blows my hair to and fro, and creates sunlit ripples that dance with the eye's gaze.  There are bullrushes lining the east side of the pond, while different kinds of foliage line the rest until one reaches where I am sitting, the north side - and here you will find a small dock and a clearing where you can wade into the water.

It is rather beautiful and peaceful.  Only the sounds of birds tweetering and once in a while the sound of a woodpecker drilling a hole in a tree.  I haven't swam yet in this pond; not sure exactly why.  I hope to soon.  The sun's heat is certainly supporting the activity.

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

My New Art Table

Finally.  Finally I got an art table for my room.  I've been looking for one for so long.  It cost $149.00 at Staples and a friend offered to pay half.  That was nice.  I saw it yesterday but decided to sleep on the idea and return today if indeed I did want it and I did/do.  Its a cherry wood top that has a deep honeyed look.  Not the usually dark cherry wood you usually come across.  Also the rest of the table, the drawer, the sides, and the legs are like old time country milk-washed wood.  This table I will use for writing and art, and this is my first writing exercise on it.  I'm in the NW corner of my room.  I put a light nearby temporarily until I find something better suited.

It feels good to sit here.  I have a chair that is cushioned with a luxurious red pillow.  It was at the computer table, but I'll likely be siting it here most often.  I look at the empty wall right in front of my view.  I'm thinking I need art there.  But art that stimulates a looking glass effect.  That helps me, inspires to go beyond the humdrum thoughts. 

I hear noise in the background as I think of writing how this is again a solitary moment - there is a ladybug flying around the light fixture.  I'll refrain from sharing what happens to ladybugs who fly around too long  that light fixture. 

On the floor next to me is a healthy green-leaved lemon plant.  It sits in front of the sliding windows that walk out onto the balcony.  My draperies are pink and yellow.

The saleslady at Staples said that the table was undamaged when I asked about why the box looked mangled and obviously taped back up exaggeratively.  There was damage.  I've decided to ignore it and move on.

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

Tim Hortons Iced Cappuccino

Unlike many of my fellow citizens, I've never been a frequenter of Tim Hortons.  Tim Hortons is a coffee and donut shop that offers things like sandwiches and soups as well.  It is well known in Canada.  It is so prevalent that there is a Tim Hortons every few blocks or so.

I find some of their products acidic.  Burns the tongue.  Perhaps it is the sugar they use, I'm not exactly sure.  And I'm not a coffee drinker, so I cannot speak to their coffee offering.  But I do know that Canadians everywhere regularly gather at Tim Hortons.

The irony is that I am free-flow writing about Tim Hortons because beside me is a Iced Cappuccino.  And yes, I have stated I don't drink coffee, and I really don't.  But for some reason, the exception has been Iced Cappuccinos from Tim Hortons.  I get them ever so often, even in the winter.  I'm not exactly sure what the allure is.  I've tried similar drinks at other places and none have had me seek them out for more.  It could be simply the fact that it is easily available anywhere I may be.

I've always liked ice.  I like how it feels in my mouth and the crunching sound in my inner ears.  The taste of the coffee is not too strong - it is more sweet and milky than a harsh bitter coffee taste.  There is also a sense that it gets me writing somehow, if I need a boost to move forward with it. 

Tim Hortons Iced Cappuccino is probably not a economical choice not because its expensive - its just a few bucks - but because the drink is mostly tiny bits of ice.   For now, I like it just the same.

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]

St. Peter's Ale

I'm drinking St. Peter's Ale.  A beer I haven't tried before.  It is graced within a light green glass flask.   Its imprint embossed into the glass itself. 

It is made from organically grown barley and hops.  Its water from a deep water source with a history of doing so for 700 years.  The St. Peter Brewery Company is located in Suffolk United Kingdom.

It tastes a bit like medicine.  I think partially the reason this is relates to the illusion brought on by the shape of the glass itself.  Many cough syrups come in this sort of bottle shape.  Also there is a rich wholesomeness that one does not often find in alcoholized beverages.  Once used to the initial medicinal quality, it is pleasant enough to partake of without desire to not take another swig.

I find the bottle unique enough to keep actually.  And I am not one to collect things by any means.  The bottle shape is in fact a faithful copy of one made in 1770 for a Mr. Thomas Gerrard of Gibbstown, Pennsylvania.

The symbol for St. Peter's Ale is a crow-like bird with a gold key in its core. 

Exercise:  Flow Writing - Pick a tangible object from your surroundings and use it as the opening image in your entry.  Let your mind free-associate from one thought to the next.  Write for a specific period of time.   [Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 24]