Dorothy Allison Writes About Place

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Over at The Open Bar on the Tin House website, Dorothy Allison writes about "Place."

She begins with :

What do you notice when you first enter a story? Who is talking? Who are they talking to? Where are they standing? What’s going on in the background? Is there a background?

If you have not had the opportunity to be in a workshop or class with Dorothy Allison or are not otherwise familiar with her words on writing, this is a brief introduction to her work. If you know her writing and her work on writing, then you already know it's worth the click.

Click to read "Place" by Dorothy Allison.

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Razor's Edge for 8/17/12 : A Salty Place

Today's prompt is a place. One of my favorite places, for relaxation and rejuvenation, for contemplation, for walking.

The beach.

Imagine yourself walking onto the beach.

Feel the wind and the sun, the change in the air. Smell the salt and sun screen, water and rocks, humans mixing the carcasses of sea life scattered along the tide line. Hear the gulls chatter and scold, the delighted children and the crying children and the friends laughing. Hear the quietness, the presence of waves on sand on rocks in the air particles between breath and above the humans' heads.

Does being here excite you? Calm you? Frighten you? Or bore you.

Look at the ocean.

Find your first thought when I say, "Why are you here?"

Write.
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Razor's Edge for 8/3/12: Place

Today's prompt is a location and backstory.

Your character is on walking off a recent conversation. She took the three-hour train trip to spend the weekend with her friend. But something wasn't quite right from the time she arrived. Her friend doesn't want to talk about it, but there is something going on which is distracting the friend.

Your character sets off to get some air and let the tension move through, rather than getting stuck in, her body. She has no idea where she's going; she's only been to this part of the city once before.

She turns the corner and finds herself in this lush, overgrown yard. A presence in the house seems to be pulling her closer ...


...Go... Write for 10 minutes!

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Razor's Edge for 6/29/12

Today's Razor's Edge prompt is a character sketch.

Read her dexcription and then choose one of the photos below as the setting for her story.

Write for 10 minutes.


NAME: Freedom Malloy
AGE: early twenties
HAIR: Chestnut, for now; cut just below her shoulders
ENJOYS (partial list): reptiles, all things blue, tango dancing, her vintage institution green scooter, reading, being in high places
DISLIKES (parital list): fizzy water, all things pastel, miniatures, imitation foods, the smell of the overflowing sewer after a hard rain
TATOOS: dragonfly

I remember...

The NaNo posts are multiplying. Strategies being exchanged. Challenges thrown down. Parties and meet-ups and write-ins planned.

And I remember last year, about this same time, questioning my decision to go with the flow. Or should I plot and plan and outline? And it resurfaces from time to time.

Until I remember that I did it last year with a totally blank slate and it was great.

I'll try the proven - for me - approach again. Although I will admit to having a very bare idea of a setting which may prove to be only a scene!

afternoon update

I was going to just post a quick temperature update, which is, by the way,

• 103 degrees at 3:20 pm
  

... and it usually reaches its peak somewhere between 5-7 pm. Sigh. (Home is showing a temperature of 73 degrees.)

Good news is that all teaching responsibilities are done. Had the final wrap-up meeting with students and took hundreds of pictures and I am not exaggerating. Final staff meeting and totaled students' scores. And I have 90% of my stuff packed up and ready to go (the other 10% I need to get through tonight).

I am taking a little break here from preparing to interpret the completion celebration tonight. The Dean of the College of Education and Behavioral Sciences will be speaking briefly, a student presentation, a student speaker, and a nationally recognized researcher, interpreting instructor (and more) will be speaking, as well. So looking over what we have of their speeches, how to spell names, all the things we do to insure there is a smooth and accurate interpretation of the night's events.

So I popped online to check the temperature and post an update -- and noticed the picture of Portland was no longer showing the rain. I thought maybe the transfer process corrupted the file or there was a technical issue of some sort. I clicked on the picture to view the (larger) original and it looked different than it did this morning. I went back to my blog and, yes, indeed, the Loveland picture was also different than what I posted.

What's up? I thought.

Duh! I realized. I didn't download the picture and then paste it in. I put in a direct link to the webcam site, which updates the picture. Sometimes I amaze myself with the little things it I don't get right away. Just a funny little story I thought I'd share. So, who knows, maybe tomorrow my picture of rain in Portland will be sunny and warm and Loveland will be overcast and dark.

Being Open

Being conscious and being present are the goal. Yet being present and aware brings with it a sensitivity to surroundings. The converse, I know, is that not being in the moment means missing what is present. Which may mean missing that overheard statement of the couple passing by on the street, or the look of a newly opened dandelion's yellow against the glowing spring green of the grass, or noticing how the news on NPR trickles down to that emotional place in my chest. Or how I miss my friends, who are also too busy to sit down to tea.


Being open is not easy and sometimes I want to shut that door and crawl back to the seeming sanctuary of busy-ness. What is this writing about, anyway? Who do I think I am? Why would I want to be in touch with a world so in turmoil and so much suffering? What can I do, anyway?

A news story. Or two or three: car crashes, plane crashes, missing hikers, missing mothers and fathers, abducted children lost, one found. Politicians: rearranging the colors of the flag to suit their own viewpoint, spouting rhetoric which all sounds the same if you really listen beyond the form of the words, yet, somehow, one will come out on top and then the two finalists. How many months until this madness is done? Weather: global warming, colder winters, late snow, flooding. Bicyclists. Priests. Weather. Environment. Blue collars; going green. Platinum awards for doing more with less or is it less with more?

Being open means all of this. Means the feelings that go with the stories and the memories raised by the stories / colors / sights / smells. Means sometimes it's not easy but maybe it is easier than trying to keep the door shut all the time. Noticing.

Opening.

Sensing.

painting: The Magic Egg Shop
by Serena Barton

Movable Type

Just as any surface can become a canvas for a painter, any stationary or moving object may become the page for a writer.

Consider: cars!

Okay - so I admit that I have Google as my home page when I open Mozilla. I've even customized it to iGoogle, with a changeable banner across the top, the phase of the moon, a little calendar which I can change the background to match my mood, and an assortment of little boxes with information. Among the nuggets of news bytes and trivia I selected is a "how to" box. I don't know why, except that there are the occasional tidbits which inspire me to a rant of humans declining ability to think for themselves or a fascination of seeing how do they make those little toilet paper roll covers out of Readers Digest - like watching a car wreck and being unable to turn away. For example, right now I see "How to Make a Diaper Candy Holder Favor" in the box on the bottom of my screen. It took me a few minutes to even figure out what the title meant; I'm trying to restrain myself from even looking at that one, though I am assuming it has to do with baby showers (I hope).

One day I noticed a link in the box, "How To Create an Art Car". I've seen various art cars around town for several years; some mild and super funky and some outrageous and built up and out. One a little scary looking, unless you're into metallic evil clowns, Extremo the Clown. This was one of those train wreck moments and I had to take a look. Step one, according to WikiHow, is to select your car, with the warning that "if you're planning to drive your art car on a regular basis, you'll want one that is in good mechanical working order." And thus I've proved my point about catering to those who prefer not to think. Meow.

As I looked at a Cheshire cat and back to back VW bugs, I remembered reading about a local art car with a twist. "Trixie" I mentally shouted! And went in search through cyberspace. I don't know whether to say that Trixie is owned by, or companion to, gl, of Scarlet Star Studios, in Portland, Oregon.

Trixie is the dynamic poetry car about town. She sports giant magnetic poetry - like you see on the refrigerator, only bigger. gl even set Trixie up with her own blog page where you can see "trixie poetry" created by people who come across her. One of my favorites is the "neighborhood poetry program" at the top of the page.

Thinking of Trixie and her magnets I have a new meaning for "open mic poetry." Or maybe of poetry by and for the people.

If you could, where would you write your message? Or, if you were to write your message to the world on a car, what type of car would it be? Would you write a poem? Would it be an art car or a poetry car or a blending of the two? What would it say?

photos:
top left: Trixie at her second Burning Man
bottom right: one from the Trixie archives