“The art of love”
All those who have an interest in art—in whatever form it may take—learn quite quickly that art and its appreciation is an individual experience. By this I mean that any given person will react in a unique way to a piece of wart, of writing, of music based on his or her experiences, feelings, opinions, likes and dislikes. Each person’s response and interaction with the art form—limited or extensive as it may be—is tied to who that person is at the very core.
“Write a list of things that makes you
So I modified today’s prompt a bit… I wasn’t quite in the mood to go on a rant about the things that make me angry.
This is my list. What’s yours?
- Sitting in the sun
- Flowers in a vase
- Snuggling with a pup
- Learning something new
- Cooking (and, of course, eating)
- Going home
- Finding a beautiful place and basking in it for a while
- Reading (a lot)
- Being outside
- Being with friends
- A warm cup of coffee in the morning
- Taking pictures of pretty things
- Making a home out of a new space
“Write from the point of view of a nurse who hates the patient she is charged with helping”
Rose had a routine. In fact, it was a perfect routine. She would come into work at the Redford Physical Rehabilitation Centre at precisely 7:50 in the morning, so that she could start her rounds at 8:00. She was a stickler for punctuality, particularly when it came to her being on time. It was vital for her to be on time to both start her day and end it.
“Set something on fire”
I looked at the bouquet. It was a bunch of daisies. Bright yellow centres surrounded by pure white petals. Daisies. If he had been listening at all, he’d know I hated them. Loathed them, even.
Adding insult to injury, he had sent a note with them. It had two words on it. ‘Forgive Me’. It stared at me stupidly, silently calling me a fool.
How dare he?
How could he possibly think that this would work?
Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the box of matches that had been laying still and unused on the mantlepiece. I struck one against the strip on the box. It lit in one go. That almost never happened. The action of lighting the match was clearly fuelled by my anger. I lit one of the petals first, and watched it start to smoke. The flame licked around its partners and slowly reached the core of the flower.
I threw the whole bouquet into the fire place. The note followed soon after. I stared at it, feeling liberated as the words were erased by the charring that spread across the paper.
“Forgive me, my ass.”
“A beginner’s guide to waking up in the morning”
Step 1: Open eyes. This might take some time as your eyelids might feel as if they are glued shut.
Step 2: Look around and find a time device to assess what time of the day it is. This can also be done by looking at the sun’s position in the sky. Time of the year must be taken into account for that to be remotely accurate.
Step 3: Stretch. By this I mean extend your limbs away from your body. This will help you move out of the comfortable shape your body adopted during sleep. Read More
“You are the Grim Reaper. Write three different opening paragraphs for your autobiography, trying out very different styles.”
I regret everything. Every life I’ve ended, every loved one I’ve taken away. There is not one that I do not mourn. No one understands the weight that I have had to carry on my shoulders since the very inception of time. I hope that this tale will shed some light on it and have you rethink how you see me. Read More
“You bring someone back from the dead. Who is it?”
I think when we’re asked this question, we’re often expected to choose someone famous or someone who played a big role in bringing good to the world.
Selfishly, I’m quite baffled by that. I don’t think I could ever squander this wish like that.