write creatively

not so much as a creative piece but one that made me remember the emotions that ran through me on that one day…

read it here

i walked into the changeroom and headed over to my locker. immediately, she saw me and without skipping a beat, she came over and started talking to me.

“how do these things work?” she said, in a confused and dazed manner.

i kept on walking past her, annoyed at the attempt to stop me. i only have one hour to workout at the gym… i’m a mother… a full-time working mother… the one hour every lunch is the only time i have that is dedicated entirely to me.

however, i looked at her face as i passed by and said, “well, do you have a lock?”

“no.”

“you’ll need a lock.”

“but some of them do not have locks…”

“um… no… because you bring your own lock.”

“how does this work?”

my irritation started to build. i honestly, for the life of me, could not understand how hard it was to use a locker. or perhaps, i was more annoyed that she was not getting to the point… this strange girl (and i call her girl because while she is of age to be labelled a woman, there seemed an air of immaturity that marked her more as a girl), would not ask the right questions… it was more like a guessing game.

i continued to dial my own combination on my lock. there was no sense nor need to stop what i was doing in order to help some one so obviously clueless and disoriented… to a point where it must have been her fault. fore, the way she was acting, it was as if she was the type of person who wanted anyone and everyone to answer for her…

she needed the answers handed to her on a silver platter. that was the kind of person she was. i was sure of it.

in a huff, i said to her, “you don’t need a lock but you understand that if you put your belongings in a locker without one, any valuables will not be protected.”

“but how does this work, then?”

i was dumbfounded… where had i gone wrong in explaining to her the basic principles of what a locker, in combination of a personal lock, does? i tried to listen hard to her voice… maybe something was wrong with her? was she on something? perhaps physically and/or mentally challenged? or perhaps she was new to the country and came from a place where they had no gyms nor lockers to lock their things in?

nothing. nothing in her voice gave any indication of any reason nor being of why she was having such a hard time grasping the concept.

except for the fact that she was simply, well… lacking in intelligence.

i quickly looked at her face… studied it briefly. her eyes seemed to read that she was completely lost. her face covered with adult acne… she looked young. early 20’s? maybe even a few years older.

i finally gave one last answer, in hopes it would be the right one so she could leave me alone.

“you just pull it open.”

“but how?”

“just… pull.”

she hesitantly grabbed the handle and opened it, mumbling a confused, “oh.”

i turned my back away from her. when i was ready to head off to the showers, she had already wandered over to another area, leaving the locker that she had spent so much time and energy trying to figure out ‘how it worked.’

she floated around… as lost from the first moment i saw her.

i left the gym with a slightly uneasy tremble… not truly understanding what had just happened. and for a split second, i started to doubt myself of whether what had happened was real. had she truely existed in those couple of minutes?

and as i climbed into my car, i had a vision of her moving to the other end of the change room. i stopped and drew in my breath as i realized that she wasn’t walking… but floating across the room. it was as if she was walking on air.

i turned the key in the ignition and left the underground parking lot, trying to shake the ridiculous imagination of mine, back down to earth.

Pick out a photo, randomly. Look at the photo for 2-3 minutes. Then for 10 minutes, write all the feelings that photograph made you feel. Don’t censor yourself. Just write.

subject -> http://flickr.com/photos/shyeyes/177391825/

As I look at this photograph, i feel almost ashamed and proud at the same time with the realization that what I’m feeling is that she is an extension of me, as well as her own person. Yet, through this pride, I also feel a sense of peace and tranquility. The kind of feeling created by the presense of such innocence and youth. Something else stirs… a need to protect and to shelter. Perhaps even a sense of fear and anxiety to contain this life from any danger or harm.

There is, overall, a sense of humbleness. A feeling of honour to be in the presense of a first-time discovery. And to know that as the world spins and hurries around them, they are my home. My love. And my focus in life.

close your eyes and remember one object in the room. remember as much as you can for about three minutes. open your eyes, and without looking at the object, describe what you remember about the object

Three single bamboo sticks. Hovering above the water, each one reaching vertically at their own height. The slender bodies standing parallel to one another. I imagine grazing my fingers on the smooth surface, feeling only the occasional bump along the ridges that divide the bamboo into sections. The tips display leaves that seem to be an extension from the body. Yet, they seem to have a life of their own, as they reach gracefully towards the light. With the water raised only to an inch below the top of the glass vase, the stems are rooted firmly in large black and white rocks. Through the crevices, roots are seen playing a game of hide and seek as they curve from one rock to another.

okay, so perhaps i just don’t have the time to take a creative writing class. i’d like to. some day. hopefully when chaeli goes to school?

we could have homework time together.

for now, i’ll have to resort to self-taught lessons. and to start, i found a site with over 200 creative writing exercises: http://www.creativewritingprompts.com