#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Charles River morning view
I cannot find a pair of dry shoes. So, I wear wet ones, and we walk in the woods where the maples are going bright red. My weekly writing group starts early, so I wake early and finish my preparation so that I can really appreciate a long ramble. In the afternoon I hear from a journal, DeLuge – they want to publish two of the three Charles River photos I submitted, and so I’m pleased I will see them in print. I lead two writing groups today; one morning, one evening; one in person, one online. Both are deep, rich, intimate. In the morning group, we write together from the prompt I created from a poem by Cecily Parks: Girlhood.
“
Girlhood
was when I slept in the woods
bareheaded beneath jagged
stars and the membranous
near-misses of bats, when
I tasted watercress,
wild carrot, and sorrel,
when I was known
by the lilac I hid beside,
and when that lilac, burdened
by my expectations of lilacs,
began a journey
without me. . . .”
Fill in the blanks, using your own spontaneous verbs, nouns, adjectives. . . to describe a real or figurative “age” you experienced – following each prompt, using details with specifics of tastes, smells, colors, sounds, feelings, and especially action words – what did you do (what specific actions did you take?) during this age, who or what did you meet, and then what unexpected thing happened next?
Girlhood. . . was when I. . .
Dreamtime. . . was when I. . .
Escapehood. . . was when I. . .
Hungertime. . . was when I. . .
Sexytime. . . was when I. . .
Rebelhood. . . was when I. . .
Wallflowerhood. . . was when I. . .
Nomadtime. . . was when I. . .
Witchingtime. . . was when I. . .
Losttime. . . was when I . . .
Conquerhood. . . was when I. . .