It’s time to write: mark, inscribe, put pen to paper, engrave, carve, note, enter, record, jot down, compose, create, generate, produce, fashion, form, build, construct, design, originate, initiate, coin, conceive, commence…what are you waiting for?
Here are today's offerings: click on the title to find the online source.
YOU ARE INVISIBLE *edited to note I could not make this connection via this link but it is from an MIT Creative Writing Exercise website.
Okay, you're invisible. Where would you go? What would you be able to see that you can't see when you yourself are seen? Play out such a scene for yourself and thoroughly describe it in writing.
Starting phrases
Try starting with any of these phrases:
I remember
I don't remember
I have always
I see
I don't see
I have never
I know
I don't know
I want to
I wonder
I don't wonder
I don't want to
I hate
I love
I try to
I try not to...
Write for 10 minutes in response to any of these.
Let me know if you're participating. I'll post mine later today!
Happy Wednesday...
edited to include my own 10-minute exercise:
I DON’T REMEMBER…
the day John F. Kennedy was shot and sometimes I don’t understand how it has become such a pivotal day in history. I was five days old. My mother told me, only months ago, that she had actually voted for Nixon in that Presidential election because Kennedy was from a Catholic family and her own family made it clear that these Kennedy’s were reckless and carefree, at an expense to our Nation.
Sometimes it seems the death of a Kennedy holds more power and importance than the death of Jesus. The ‘game’ that has been played and played: “Where were you when Kennedy was shot?” rings in my ear. I wonder sometimes if an answer would come with the same ease to the question: “Where were you when Jesus died for you?”
Of course, my husband the literal-ist would defend his lack of answer with: “I wasn’t on earth when Jesus died.”
My candid reply would be: “Honey, not literally WHERE WERE YOU, but where were you in LIFE when the realization hit that Jesus died for you?”
My own response would be: “obviously I was nailing His hands and feet down and being bathed in the blood from His wounds.”
It sounds a bit dramatic but this I do remember: I am the reason Jesus died on that cross, I was there and I thank God that I DO REMEMBER this daily.
Sometimes it seems the death of a Kennedy holds more power and importance than the death of Jesus. The ‘game’ that has been played and played: “Where were you when Kennedy was shot?” rings in my ear. I wonder sometimes if an answer would come with the same ease to the question: “Where were you when Jesus died for you?”
Of course, my husband the literal-ist would defend his lack of answer with: “I wasn’t on earth when Jesus died.”
My candid reply would be: “Honey, not literally WHERE WERE YOU, but where were you in LIFE when the realization hit that Jesus died for you?”
My own response would be: “obviously I was nailing His hands and feet down and being bathed in the blood from His wounds.”
It sounds a bit dramatic but this I do remember: I am the reason Jesus died on that cross, I was there and I thank God that I DO REMEMBER this daily.
4 comments:
My response has always been "I was the one who was screaming in the crowd 'Crucify him! Crucify him!'" And I thank God that I do remember that day too.
Love this word play, Kim.
I'm still ripping things up, so I have NO answers yet...but I do know it's simpler, the harder it gets.....
this was your comment at MacedwGrace and I wanted to come by and check out some more...I really loved what you said.....what a journey huh??
To your Sweetie (is he a believer?) there is the interesting verse of Hebrews 7:9-10 that speaks to the biology of the seed. Maybe he WAS there, literally.
I never really thought about that before. I am doing some soul searching. My first response was that I would have been like the woman with the alabaster box-you know, weeping at Jesus' feet-but then I realized that until I had been covered by that blood, I would have probably been more like that Centurion in The Robe. He was indifferent to the situation-just doing his job. He didn't really care one way or another about the man he'd just killed, but was a little disdainful of the people who followed him...till he touched Jesus' garment that is. Later he was almost insane with the guilt and eventually found peace in the salvation that Jesus' death brought. THAT is more like me. So I am mulling this over a bit. Trying to define myself in this context a bit more. Thanks for the insight, KP!
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