I have decided to start a series of free writing exercises, just to see what comes out of my head. I have allowed myself one side of a page in an 8×5 inch Moleskine notebook. I will write until I run out of paper. I will undertake this experiment once a day for a week. I’ll type up the text and then include a photo of the hand written document so 1) you can actually read it, and 2) you can see I am not cheating. Yes, I have the handwriting of a serial killer. Do you free write? Let us know in the comments below.
Exercise #1 – 20th November 2017 (5 minutes)
The taste of salt on my tongue that crinkles and dries. A scream that shrieks from child-like depths. Nothing that forms has ever been bothered to answer for itself. It is what it is, with no excuses, and no answers for those who seek them. There was a time when all was new and ideas came as rain upon a parched land. Without the eroded base upon which to fall, the ideas would not find a foothold, no root would grow. With no foundation, the basis of life would not exist. The life of an idea does not spring fully formed, but needs to percolate, to rest, to ease itself to life. Once sprouted, let it live wild and long. Let it smother with enfolding arms and pressed bosom. It lives through your spark, the foothold on your parched earth, the river of your tears. Beautiful thought that comes in splendid colour, hues unimaginable, piercing yet light, racing in movement through your mind’s eye. Glittering hope and spangled glory. Unfurled like a flag upon the coffin of boredom.