Writing & Journal Exercises

Joie De Vivre

I remember the smell of perfume on my skin.  It smelled intoxicatingly rich with the whimsy of coca cola and I felt good.  An aura of joie de vivre surrounded me and it became a uniquely eventful evening.  It renewed my faith in the power of attraction.

I remember the taste of citrus in the summer Sun.  You can taste it with your eyes as you tear into the orange sphere with your fingers.  The bright juicy inside glistening in the light, happy to be freed, happy to be appreciated.  And then a morsel to the tongue - sweetness and joy.

I remember the sound of love standing on stage after a long respite, singing with all its might.

I remember the sight of a rainbow, giant and clear, arching over Niagara Falls.  Majestic beauty.

I remember the touch of pastels as I blend the colours into each other with keen strokes of my fingers.  The grain of the strong paper beneath and the smooth gliding of the colour supporting my creative urge.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

I remember the smell of perfume on my skin.  It smelled intoxicatingly rich with the whimsy of coca cola and I felt good.  An aura of joie de vivre surrounded me and it became a uniquely eventful evening.  It renewed my faith in the power of attraction.

I remember the taste of citrus in the summer Sun.  You can taste it with your eyes as you tear into the orange sphere with your fingers.  The bright juicy inside glistening in the light, happy to be freed, happy to be appreciated.  And then a morsel to the tongue - sweetness and joy.

I remember the sound of love standing on stage after a long respite, singing with all its might.

I remember the sight of a rainbow, giant and clear, arching over Niagara Falls.  Majestic beauty.

I remember the touch of pastels as I blend the colours into each other with keen strokes of my fingers.  The grain of the strong paper beneath and the smooth gliding of the colour supporting my creative urge.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

I remember the smell of perfume on my skin.  It smelled intoxicatingly rich with the whimsy of coca cola and I felt good.  An aura of joie de vivre surrounded me and it became a uniquely eventful evening.  It renewed my faith in the power of attraction.

I remember the taste of citrus in the summer Sun.  You can taste it with your eyes as you tear into the orange sphere with your fingers.  The bright juicy inside glistening in the light, happy to be freed, happy to be appreciated.  And then a morsel to the tongue - sweetness and joy.

I remember the sound of love standing on stage after a long respite, singing with all its might.

I remember the sight of a rainbow, giant and clear, arching over Niagara Falls.  Majestic beauty.

I remember the touch of pastels as I blend the colours into each other with keen strokes of my fingers.  The grain of the strong paper beneath and the smooth gliding of the colour supporting my creative urge.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

I remember the smell of perfume on my skin.  It smelled intoxicatingly rich with the whimsy of coca cola and I felt good.  An aura of joie de vivre surrounded me and it became a uniquely eventful evening.  It renewed my faith in the power of attraction.

I remember the taste of citrus in the summer Sun.  You can taste it with your eyes as you tear into the orange sphere with your fingers.  The bright juicy inside glistening in the light, happy to be freed, happy to be appreciated.  And then a morsel to the tongue - sweetness and joy.

I remember the sound of love standing on stage after a long respite, singing with all its might.

I remember the sight of a rainbow, giant and clear, arching over Niagara Falls.  Majestic beauty.

I remember the touch of pastels as I blend the colours into each other with keen strokes of my fingers.  The grain of the strong paper beneath and the smooth gliding of the colour supporting my creative urge.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

I remember the smell of perfume on my skin.  It smelled intoxicatingly rich with the whimsy of coca cola and I felt good.  An aura of joie de vivre surrounded me and it became a uniquely eventful evening.  It renewed my faith in the power of attraction.

I remember the taste of citrus in the summer Sun.  You can taste it with your eyes as you tear into the orange sphere with your fingers.  The bright juicy inside glistening in the light, happy to be freed, happy to be appreciated.  And then a morsel to the tongue - sweetness and joy.

I remember the sound of love standing on stage after a long respite, singing with all its might.

I remember the sight of a rainbow, giant and clear, arching over Niagara Falls.  Majestic beauty.

I remember the touch of pastels as I blend the colours into each other with keen strokes of my fingers.  The grain of the strong paper beneath and the smooth gliding of the colour supporting my creative urge.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

A Trail of Rainbows

I remember the smell of fresh baked bread straight from the oven.  Pulled gently apart, steam rising with its scent of deep health, yeast and a joyful abundant earth.

I remember the taste of Trident peppermint gum.  Chewed vigourously and with style, each clench of teeth upon teeth releases another spurt of peppermint freshness until, no more but a whisper remains.

I remember the sound of a cool breeze in an open window bringing with it the laughter of trees and chatterings of water.

I remember the sight of a butterfly flapping its wings in grace, its detachment and delight leaving a trail of pretty rainbow light.

I remember the touch of a teddy bear, white and soft and always there for a youth in momentary despair.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

I remember the smell of fresh baked bread straight from the oven.  Pulled gently apart, steam rising with its scent of deep health, yeast and a joyful abundant earth.

I remember the taste of Trident peppermint gum.  Chewed vigourously and with style, each clench of teeth upon teeth releases another spurt of peppermint freshness until, no more but a whisper remains.

I remember the sound of a cool breeze in an open window bringing with it the laughter of trees and chatterings of water.

I remember the sight of a butterfly flapping its wings in grace, its detachment and delight leaving a trail of pretty rainbow light.

I remember the touch of a teddy bear, white and soft and always there for a youth in momentary despair.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]

Cool And Crisp

I remember the smell of the cool crisp late morning autumn air.  The scent was of light root beer complete with effervescent bubbles of happiness.  I walked with jubiliant steps grateful to be accompanied with such a beautiful fragrance.

I remember the taste of a large luscious pear.  Sweet and succulently inviting, the juices craving not to be wasted as my mouth dug deep to capture each drop.

I remember the sound of a bustling highway with huge transport trucks rushing past intense intent on its destination.  I,  on the phone with a friend, where he mistook a truck horn sound for a duck.

I remember the sight of big strawberries, cut in half and how the perfect elegant symmetry coincided with the light pink flesh heart shape inside.  The light brown and deep brownish seeds well-placed on the outside like confetti announcing a beautiful celebration.

I remember the touch of my mothers silk scarves that she would wear often in her hair when I was younger.  Silky smooth like her skin thanks to her religious use of Olive of Olay.

Exercise:  Sense Memory - A variation on Write From The Senses.   [A Writer's Book of Days: A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for The Writing Life by Judy Reeves pg. 29]