On a more recent note, here's what we did on the 22nd of March during the meeting! A prompt suggested by Cait herself. She was in a musical mood (due to her class), and this was one of the results. Her prompt basically consisted of writing a phrase, a question and something autobiographical, then passing this on to the next person, he/she will write a line below each category that would contradict the previous line. So on and so forth. When everyone had a turn on each sheet of paper, the original author had to take these lines and restructure it accordingly. Fun!!
Unwanted Advice
Lime juice in the eye stings.
Bees in your mouth, stroking your tongue.
Everyday, the same old things.
Cows in the house, smells like dung.
But the same old things are always new.
Is it possible to hug death?
Can I return your breath?
Why did you refuse?
Why do you suffer abuse
Don't tell me what to do, Kurt.
My cheese has gone cold.
My stomach's full of mold.
The sky's falling down (repeat line forever. Fade out).
There will also be a spoken version of all these works. Tune in to SAIC Freeradio to hear them!! Thursdays from 6-8pm, brought to you by the CWG.
Showing posts with label prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prompt. Show all posts
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Digging up the Past
Hello everyone!!
This post is about 2-3 months late, but meh. XD Based on the exquisite corpse prompt we had during one of our meetings, where our faculty advisor Sherry gave each person a one-line prompt (these lines were taken from a book she chose). Each person then wrote 2 lines in response to the previous one, then folded the paper down so only the most recent line was visible. This went on until we reached the 20th line.
I call this piece "Brooklyn Bridge".
1. Who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge?
2. Who wandered for so long, through the aimless paths of New York?
3. He's done it for so long that he's left everything behind, weightless now.
4. And good flight comes of that, he knows,
5. so he prepares for heights and clouds.
6. By gathering stilts and ladders, a hot air balloon and a cherry picker.
7. He grabs his camera and sets off to prove there is a God in heaven.
8. Click, click, click, click. It doesn't matter how many lines you push, it's out.
9. It's repetitive sounding, your name. No pleasure.
10. But it means that now, I can't get it out of my head.
11. I suppose that's why I think you're so annoying.
12. The feeling sand, like water into sand.
13. The breeze cleanses all woe, all worry, all sinuses
14. and never sneezed again.
15. My nose was made into a massive clean tunnel.
16. Vast evacuation of the senses
17. ready to accept new organic crusts, drops, and outside information.
18. He coughed, spit that had been hanging on his teeth, flew free.
19. His wife wiped her eyes. Alone, she fingered the buttons on the remote.
20. And then, herself.
This post is about 2-3 months late, but meh. XD Based on the exquisite corpse prompt we had during one of our meetings, where our faculty advisor Sherry gave each person a one-line prompt (these lines were taken from a book she chose). Each person then wrote 2 lines in response to the previous one, then folded the paper down so only the most recent line was visible. This went on until we reached the 20th line.
I call this piece "Brooklyn Bridge".
1. Who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge?
2. Who wandered for so long, through the aimless paths of New York?
3. He's done it for so long that he's left everything behind, weightless now.
4. And good flight comes of that, he knows,
5. so he prepares for heights and clouds.
6. By gathering stilts and ladders, a hot air balloon and a cherry picker.
7. He grabs his camera and sets off to prove there is a God in heaven.
8. Click, click, click, click. It doesn't matter how many lines you push, it's out.
9. It's repetitive sounding, your name. No pleasure.
10. But it means that now, I can't get it out of my head.
11. I suppose that's why I think you're so annoying.
12. The feeling sand, like water into sand.
13. The breeze cleanses all woe, all worry, all sinuses
14. and never sneezed again.
15. My nose was made into a massive clean tunnel.
16. Vast evacuation of the senses
17. ready to accept new organic crusts, drops, and outside information.
18. He coughed, spit that had been hanging on his teeth, flew free.
19. His wife wiped her eyes. Alone, she fingered the buttons on the remote.
20. And then, herself.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
A Little Writing Exercise
Not last Thursday but the one before, we all sat down and went "Hmmm. What shall we do today?" I do so love a bit of indecision! For we arrived at the obvious conclusion to get writing!
Following a strict schedule, we decided to put some limits to our writing:
1. Each person decides and writes out their topic, ranging from "Intangible" to "The Sea" to "Office Space".
2. For 2 minutes, everyone writes about the topic in front of them.
3. After 2 minutes, we pass our paper once to the person on our left.
4. Repeat step 2-3 until everyone has written on all the topics.
Thus, the result for "Office Space" is posted below:
[Office Space]
Cara was bored. Bored enough to pretend that she was working diligently, when in fact she was counting the number of pixels it took to make up the word 'dot'.
Funnier than expected. The absolute boon of a square mind. It is a cubist paradise. The most organic of shapes found in this space might be a stapler. A stapler is a point of laughter in the Office Space.
"Hey dear, let's just watch this movie," he said.
"I don't feel like it tonight," she said.
"Common, just get on the couch with me, lean against my arm, I'm sure once it starts, you'll get into it."
10,000 thumbtacks in the wall, nay, cubicle, or particle board, after the economy rupture. Those little pins close in to squish me, inching minute amounts closer as the clock ticks backwards. F*** it, I quit, and I s*** you not I'm stealing the red stapler.
And I stare.
And I stare again.
And I stare again and again, only to discover pixels blurring before my eyes.
It must be for the pins.
If you have one to share, please blog as well!!
Following a strict schedule, we decided to put some limits to our writing:
1. Each person decides and writes out their topic, ranging from "Intangible" to "The Sea" to "Office Space".
2. For 2 minutes, everyone writes about the topic in front of them.
3. After 2 minutes, we pass our paper once to the person on our left.
4. Repeat step 2-3 until everyone has written on all the topics.
Thus, the result for "Office Space" is posted below:
[Office Space]
Cara was bored. Bored enough to pretend that she was working diligently, when in fact she was counting the number of pixels it took to make up the word 'dot'.
Funnier than expected. The absolute boon of a square mind. It is a cubist paradise. The most organic of shapes found in this space might be a stapler. A stapler is a point of laughter in the Office Space.
"Hey dear, let's just watch this movie," he said.
"I don't feel like it tonight," she said.
"Common, just get on the couch with me, lean against my arm, I'm sure once it starts, you'll get into it."
10,000 thumbtacks in the wall, nay, cubicle, or particle board, after the economy rupture. Those little pins close in to squish me, inching minute amounts closer as the clock ticks backwards. F*** it, I quit, and I s*** you not I'm stealing the red stapler.
And I stare.
And I stare again.
And I stare again and again, only to discover pixels blurring before my eyes.
It must be for the pins.
If you have one to share, please blog as well!!
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