The exercise:
I was hit, over and over again, by inspiration at work today. So the prompt is: strange noises.
Mine:
My desk is much too near
The elevator here;
The reason, my dear friends:
It's driving me to my end.
Whenever it arrives
My sanity's deprived,
Because the sound it emits
Is the first note of a hit.
So now I spend my day,
Singing my work away;
I'll sing this 'till I'm dead:
No Surprises by Radiohead.
Showing posts with label Noise Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Noise Prompt. Show all posts
Monday October 20th, 2008
The exercise:
Another workshop writing exercise: close your eyes and just listen. Where does each noise you hear take you? Pick one and go ahead and go there.
Mine:
The conductor clangs the bell at the end of the platform and hollers something in German. I think it's safe to assume it's the equivalent of "All aboard!" but not knowing the language makes it hard to be sure of anything.
I try to watch the other waiting passengers inconspicuously, to see what they do. I take my signals from actions these days, not words.
But no one is getting on the train. A man sits reading a newspaper in perfect stillness, the wind crinkling his paper the only audible indication of his existence; a couple are arguing behind me in a language I don't recognize, their words assault my ears.
What is going on? Are they waiting for another train or is this one pausing here for a while or... God, I hate not knowing the language.
I edge closer to the open compartment door in front of me, hoping to find a sign I can decipher. A destination would be wonderful - city names are a universal language. Well, most of the time. Lest I forget that incident on the way to Naples/Napoli.
The bell sounds again, the conductor hollers again. I swear under my breath and step up into the compartment. What's the worst that could happen? This is supposed to be an adventure, right? So be adventurous!
The door clangs shut behind me, the noise magnified by the small entrance way and the bare metal walls. I feel like the train is yelling at me - it could be a welcome, it could be a warning.
Typically German - always yelling but I'm never certain if the speaker is happy or mad or even indifferent. I really miss English on days like these.
Another workshop writing exercise: close your eyes and just listen. Where does each noise you hear take you? Pick one and go ahead and go there.
Mine:
The conductor clangs the bell at the end of the platform and hollers something in German. I think it's safe to assume it's the equivalent of "All aboard!" but not knowing the language makes it hard to be sure of anything.
I try to watch the other waiting passengers inconspicuously, to see what they do. I take my signals from actions these days, not words.
But no one is getting on the train. A man sits reading a newspaper in perfect stillness, the wind crinkling his paper the only audible indication of his existence; a couple are arguing behind me in a language I don't recognize, their words assault my ears.
What is going on? Are they waiting for another train or is this one pausing here for a while or... God, I hate not knowing the language.
I edge closer to the open compartment door in front of me, hoping to find a sign I can decipher. A destination would be wonderful - city names are a universal language. Well, most of the time. Lest I forget that incident on the way to Naples/Napoli.
The bell sounds again, the conductor hollers again. I swear under my breath and step up into the compartment. What's the worst that could happen? This is supposed to be an adventure, right? So be adventurous!
The door clangs shut behind me, the noise magnified by the small entrance way and the bare metal walls. I feel like the train is yelling at me - it could be a welcome, it could be a warning.
Typically German - always yelling but I'm never certain if the speaker is happy or mad or even indifferent. I really miss English on days like these.
Wednesday July 30th, 2008
The exercise:
The starter for today is: unwanted noise.
Mine:
Scooter driving up and down the lane,
Louder than a locomotive train.
I don't think the engine is quite right,
It's like it's losing the will to fight.
I would be happy to end its pain -
The clamor is driving me insane.
And when that damn scooter sees the light,
I have to admit: it'll make my night.
The starter for today is: unwanted noise.
Mine:
Scooter driving up and down the lane,
Louder than a locomotive train.
I don't think the engine is quite right,
It's like it's losing the will to fight.
I would be happy to end its pain -
The clamor is driving me insane.
And when that damn scooter sees the light,
I have to admit: it'll make my night.
Monday June 9th, 2008
Today's exercise:
Think of something you did today or yesterday. Think of a noise you made while doing it, or heard at the time. What does that sound remind you of? Something totally unrelated? Good. Make that leap - connect them.
Mine:
The hazelnuts from the farmers market need cracking, they're no use to anyone in those shells. I pluck them from their clear plastic bag, one by one, and place them in the nut cracker.
I grasp the handle and squeeze and squeeze until the shell gives way with a loud crack. I place the naked nut in a white bowl, the shattered remnants of the shell in a silver bowl and pluck another hazelnut from the bag. This goes on for hours.
It would have gone much faster if I wasn't constantly looking out the living room window to see if the police had arrived, responding to a "shots fired!" call.
Think of something you did today or yesterday. Think of a noise you made while doing it, or heard at the time. What does that sound remind you of? Something totally unrelated? Good. Make that leap - connect them.
Mine:
The hazelnuts from the farmers market need cracking, they're no use to anyone in those shells. I pluck them from their clear plastic bag, one by one, and place them in the nut cracker.
I grasp the handle and squeeze and squeeze until the shell gives way with a loud crack. I place the naked nut in a white bowl, the shattered remnants of the shell in a silver bowl and pluck another hazelnut from the bag. This goes on for hours.
It would have gone much faster if I wasn't constantly looking out the living room window to see if the police had arrived, responding to a "shots fired!" call.
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