Writing & Journal Exercises

Beautifully Golden

I need to breathe.  This as I am, writing self, tired and restless.  I don't always want to express on paper or this, this electronic medium that is now-you-see-it-now-you don't in truth.  Delete of a button.  Systems crash.  No back-up - all gone. 

I don't always want to express.  I like to think.  I like to write.  In my head.  It comes out so eloquently, long prose, deeply intelligent - beginning, middle and end.  Comprehensible and meaningful.  How do I remove the distaste of presenting these thoughts out there, out there, out of my control - to be misinterpreted, misunderstood, misused, misappropriated.   I miss the point.

I am myself, integrated within the whole - the writing self today.  Yet, I remain silent.  Silence is beautifully golden.

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]

Searching And Revealing

Pinkish cream, freckled hands on keyboard, recording thoughts and researching.  Spring-freed birds sing in the background, dancing from tree to tree.  I am a calm center writing today.  My eyes are blue, inquisitive, searching and revealing.  White little note papers are my friends, scribbled writings colour them and scatter on my desk.  A light wind enters from the sliding balcony door.  It is cool and comforting - the sun warms and sweetens the moment.

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]

The Thirsty Garden

A pink hue glows off you, writing self, as you tip tap away at your white keyboard.  One day you will have a new MacBook or something similar but for now you use what you have as industriously as time and energy allows.   

A garden spontaneously erupts all around you, thirsty for your words.  You draw on the well and drop a drip or two into the beautiful funnel.  Too little, you think, why so few words?  Too many will drown them, you reply.  How much is enough?  How much is too much?  When is enough, enough and when is it feeding time?

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]

Journeying

Its late.  1:30 AM or so and I'm wide awake.  My writing self is alert and feels the need to travel to the south of France, NOW!  The blue, the crisp light blue mediterranean lapping against the rocks and shore - seagulls calling.  Colourfully dressed people everywhere.  My writing self looks like a traveller without being tangible.  I suppose it makes sense as this is dreamtime and rest is close on the heels of this sharing.  I will let my writing self journey.

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]

Half & Half

The left side of me looks normal and human, sitting at my desk typing with a cream soft long sleeved shirt on (that has a hood).  My eye is blue and the corner of my mouth intermittedly smiles and frowns.  The right side of me looks like a king, glowing golden with a bright shining crown on his head.  I see a wing behind me.  This is what my writing self looks like today.

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]

The Candle

Like a candle, lit yet it flickers not, but remains a steady flame.  I wait for the dance of thought to write with the smoke from the tip of that tongue of fire.  My writer self erect, like the pillar beneath the flame, hoping to sustain long enough to produce warmth and inspiration for others to enjoy.

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]

Left-Over Sparkles

She's quiet and alone with left-over sparkles of sun on her cheeks.  Tear stains are visible only with the invisible eye's gaze.  Her beating heart shines like a sun.  She wonders where hope is.

Exercise:  Journey Writer:  Describe your writing self.  How do you see the part of you who is writing today?  [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]