and use all 5 senses (plus the sense of kinesthetic movement and body self awareness) to write about the "Word of the Day". Today's word was, "wind".
Here's my entry:
On the hill the wind
blows at first moderately, swaying branches, the lower branches, pulling them a
few inches, and releasing them and then pulling them again. At the end of the
branches, the maple leaves wiggle and wave. Sometimes the wind swells and branches
wave. The branches seem to know how to wave, to allow a certain amount of
motion as if to say, "Yes, I see your point. I give you that. You're
right, there." The waving of tree branches in the wind is a kind of
empathy with the active forces by a thoughtful and receptive creature, the
tree. The wind chills the cheeks. Put your hand on the cold cheek and it feels
wet from the dampness in the air as well as the cold. Wind pulls at your hat.
You clamp your hand on your head and walk forward into the torrent of invisible
air. Wind has a sound, a suffocating whistling encircling the head. Wind
flattens your face, everything that's loose in your face, pressed with it's
pressure wall. Wind won't let up, won't quit. It's annoying! Wind wants to rip
the steel roof off a building, it wants to tear your shirt open, catch in your
coat like a sail and pull. The texture of wind is thick though yielding like
whipped cream, like clouds, like gelatin. Sometimes wind embeds little
particles and pieces of dust that sand blast your face and occasionally embed
themselves in your eyes or nostrils demanding that you shut your eyes so tears
can pool and float them out.
Wind, oh enemy of calm, enemy of relaxation.
Princess of drama.
What's happening by doing this every day, is that my writing mind habit is to narrate the associative images that form as I reflect on words. This is good news if you want to write in ways that bring people to experience, thought and feeling--you have to give them experiences, which have embedded in them feelings. Thought is just the arranger that figures out the editing and arranging.
Try this thing. If you are a regular reader of this blog, I don't think you've heard the last about it.
Here's a useful thought/kind reminder
Live Out the Best of Your Life (words of songwriter Sloane Wainwright) at some point today. You'll be glad you can steal 20 muntes to set out down that alternate reality wormhole path.
Michael
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