Writing Exercise #4: Write With Inspiring Images: Find pictures online that inspire you or cut images from any magazine or newspaper. After collecting a set of five or six photos, you can write a story about each of them and try to link them together. How can you connect the images in a meaningful way?
Note: Im tweaking the prompt on this simply because by default I don’t find many things inspiring and to find pictures that I find inspiring would take research and a miracle. Instead I’m just going to write about 5 images from my saved IG pics and they all happen to be comics.
1.Cloud Comic looking for clothes drying on a line to rain on.
When it rains, it pours. That phrase normally eludes to when bad things happen they happen in excess. However, sometimes when it rains it’s just a minor annoyance. In this first comic we find a cloud searching for and finding its target, clothes drying on line. After spotting the line of laundry, the cloud proceeds to rain on them. I would imagine a sentient troublemaking cloud seeking out freshly washed to wiz on is the perfect example of minor annoyance. There can't be too many people in first world countries that still line dry their clothes.
Scouring the countryside looking for the little blue house with the two bright red poles and thin white line, Cloudy would become a little frustrated. They’d been pushed so far off course by the strong winds earlier in the week, it was a task getting back in itself. The sky was clear and blue, meaning they wouldn’t have to push through the crowds. Cloudy loved when they had the entire sky to themselves. One or two miles between each cluster of houses in the area. Covering that much space is nothing when you riding the upper wind trail. Unfortunately it is much harder to pinpoint the little details. They would have to get low and close. Go slow and cruise to spot the house. It sat adjacent to a small hill covered with perfectly trimmed bright green grass. Atop the hill was a small orange flag. That would make it much easier to find Cloudy had thought when they’d first spotted the drying line. There it is! The little blue house next to the small green hill with the orange and next to it the bright red poles with the thin white line. Cloudy wasn’t sure there would be clothes being hung out to dry but it was worth the trip with the possibility. Luckily it was wash day and the clothes had not yet been taken inside. Time to move in for the kill. Holding your water until you get to where you want to go is hard. They weren’t sure if they could hold it in. A red shirt, blue jeans, a dress and socks. It wasn't much but it was enough. There aren’t too many people who still line dry thanks to those stupid drying machines. Cloudy let it rain. “I'm gonna make it rain baby.” A song lyric they’d picked up and couldn’t help but murmur every time they did indeed make it rain. With a self serving smile, Cloudy drenched the line of clothing before ascending to a higher vantage point. They’d wait a little while to admire there handy work. Hoping someone would come to collect the clothes soon and they have a good cackle. They’d better do it quick, the Sun was burning a little hotter today. Clothes dry faster when it's this hot. Having get more water and comeback to rain again would be a major annoyance.
2.Cat and Dog Comic where cat knocks over 2nd coffee mug.
Cats are great. Until they’re not. Somehow you being inconvenienced by something they’ve done is an inconvenience to them. The audacity of you to be offended is offensive. In the next comic, a cat asks a dog whose spilled a mug of coffee if they need help with the mug still on the tray. The cat then proceeds to knock over and spill the second mug. What is the nature of a cat? In a world where dogs carry coffee on trays to be served, cats are still assholes. The flat look on Dog’s face was to be expected. He couldn’t be mad at anyone but himself. After all he had accepted Cat’s offer to help. This was not the first time he’d been in this position. There was the time he had a flat on his bike and Cat’s help lead to a second flat tire. Once he’d asked Cat to write down a number for him while he was on the phone. Cat is great with numbers. Most accountants are. However in that particular moment not only did cat take down the number, but he also put them in numeric order. Sometimes Dog even wondered why they were friends. The thing is they weren’t friends. They were roommates in college who became roommates again after college. Cat wasn’t all bad. He just had those little things about him that made you want to strangle him and chew him up like a chew toy. Dog would pick up the mugs, grab some napkins and clean up the spill. He would not accept anymore help from Cat today. Instead he’d reply with, “No I got it, thanks.” Dogs are patient. Until they’re not.
3.Comic of Kid riding a 25 cent horse ride.
YEE-HAW! The universally recognized call sign of Cowboys. What is a Cowboy without his noble Horse? Probably not a very good one. The third comic sets up a scene most people who’ve ever gone to a supermarket should know. A little cowboy kid riding a coin operated horse kiddie ride. In a surprising twist we see the little horse come from under the cowboy attached to a stick, and walk away with its parents. If you’ve ever been a kid or taken one shopping with you, then you know the joys of a coin operated ride. You also know the joys of a kid being bored to death and a parent trading off letting them ride the shiny plastic attraction to make a temporary truce.
Shopping for apples and hay are not at the top of Little Tony’s list of favorite things to do. While he does indeed love eating apples, especially the crisp juice red ones he can see himself in, buying them with his dad was the worst. Big Tony Sr had grown up near and orchard before going off to become a police horse at the sheriff department. He was very meticulous in the buying of Apples. This meant a long boring morning for Little Tony. There were never any other ponies around this early at the market. At-least now he was big enough to walk on his own and not be in the basket. They walked along the main aisle that separated the registers from the rows of goods. Out the corner of his eye passing he spotted it, a cowboy. He loved westerns and rodeos. When he grew up he knew he would be the lead horse in an Old West movie. Like an anchor dropping to the ocean floor, Little Tony wrapped his body around his Dad’s leg with his full weight. “Dad can I go do the Cowboy ride, PLEASE?” The abrupt interruption to his trout took Big Tony by surprise. “Huh?” He replied as he searched the vicinity for what could’ve been danger, before his son’s words sunk in. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins. Little Tonys eyes lit up, ears perked up and he took off. Two coins? He was going to enjoy this. Big Tony watched him race over to the little inexpensive moment of joy. Watching kids find happiness is the truly simple things is amazing. For a moment the little one is living in a complete fantasy. While the big guy gets to make eyes with the cute mare at the check out register who only works the morning shift because she has show training in the afternoon. Big Tony knew that one coin would be one ride and he’d have to fight to tear the kid away. Two coins, two rides would do the job. So when it was time to go both Tony’s were happy and ready to head home to enjoy some crisp juicy read apples.
4.Squirrel doctor and death comic.
It’s not cheating death, its Medical science. Dying is inevitable, but there’s a lot of knowledge out there to stave it off from the simple things that can kill us. The fourth comic may seem a little grim but its not. We see a seemingly dead squirrel that has been run over. Tire mark on its back and Xs for eyes. Death or the Grim Reaper tells another squirrel on the scene in a doctor’s white coat with a medicine bag to test their new medical training. Dr.Squirrel thoughtfully examine the roadkill victim, reaches into their bag and applies a bandage to its back. Surprisingly the victim raises their head with a smile giving the doctor and death the thumbs up. “Eh, Close Enough,” says the Reaper.
Who cries for the victims of roadkill? Why are there no billboard campaigns informing animals to look both ways before crossing the asphalt? There should be something. “Someone has to do something,” thought Maggi. She was tired of hearing about and even encountering animal victim of hit and runs. A human gets hit and the world stops stops. What about squirrels?
There was a university near by that had an amazing medial school. Students would sit in the buildings all day reading, taking notes, and drinking fizzy energy juices. Maggi decided instead of her usual human food quest on the campus, she would focus on learning medicine. She would become the first squirrel doctor. Everyone said she was nuts at first. After a weeks she figured out that she should probably be in the veterinary school instead. Once she made the switch, things became progressively clear. She began to practice little things on her friends. Peanut, nicknamed for his obsession with peanuts, found himself with a sprained wrist. He tried carry and entire bag of trail mix up a tree and it didn’t go as he expected. With a toothpick and some floss, Maggi set wrist in a splint. It was enough to make everyone take note. While she would start to become flooded with request for aid, she was also receiving food and gifts to help her with he training. There was one particular human, Candace, who Maggi was fond and considered her study partner. They would eat lunch out on the school yard and trade gifts. One morning in the late spring Candace brought her a little box tied with lace ribbon. When she opened it it was a little cap and gown along with a tiny degree. She had done it. Maggie was officially the squirrel doctor.
5.Apple Comic of apple reading a book and sprouting a tree.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Someone needs to check the validity of that statement. In the final comic, An apple is sitting down looking bored next to a book. They recognize the book, pick it up and proceed to read the book. While reading a little tree sprouts from their stem. Reading goes a long way in branching out your mind.
Somewhere out there is a book that has exactly what you want, and what don’t know you need inside of it. It’ll tell you stories about how clouds work. You’ll learn how to recognize a toxic relationship with cats. Perhaps it’ll remind you of childhood, or spending time with your own children. Most importantly, the stories may inspire you to do something for yourself and or your community. All you need is to be like the little bored apple sitting on the ground. Find a book, read it, and grow a mind tree.
Exercise #2: Begin writing a story by starting each sentence with a different letter of the alphabet. You must use all 26 letters from A to Z to begin the first word in each of the first 26 sentences.
"As amusing as it would be to watch this scene play out, I have to go", said Brandon.
Being the middle child in a family with five children comes with certain pros and cons.
Cons being that you’re almost always the mediator in sibling disagreements.
Depending on how trivial those issues are, the pros are that you can always walk away without notice.
Especially in the case of who was going to get dad’s collection of vintage Playboy magazines.
Forgoing the long term investment opportunity to resell that collection, Brandon let the twins have at it.
Great things come to those who avoid dealing with their family’s bullshit.
However, when it comes to a death in said family, it’s almost impossible not to get hit by a Category five Shit Storm.
Interest in the belongings of a late loved one are all laced with some type of personal sin.
Jealousy, envy, regret, selfishness, and to an extent just not wanting to let go.
Kind of ironic, isn’t it?
Leaving the house to take a smoke break, Brandon paused to think about what his mother would say.
“Maybe if you didn’t smoke those weeds your clothes wouldn’t smell as loud as they looked.”
Not only was she quick to point out the consequences of his recreational activities, but also his flare for bright clothing.
Orange corduroy pants, and mustard yellow vest over a short sleeve white dress shirt, was his outfit that day.
Possibly his favorite assembly of colors for the Fall.
Questioning his choices in apparel always led them into the best conversations.
Right around the time he discovered how nicely bright yellow accented his brown skin, she discovered Facebook.
Something about having your mother subtly shade you on social media makes you long for the days on dial-up.
The wind blew leaves across the front yard as he walked toward his car.
Ultimately, Hanes, the eldest sibling would reign in the lot of them and set things right.
Various family members from around the state, country, and probably the world would descend on the house soon enough.
What would the holidays be like with both parents gone now?
Xerox machines would rattle out copies of dad’s self-scribe eulogy.
“Your life story is yours alone to write, dictate and edit for print,” he said while he did just that.
Zany isn’t likely to be a word you’ll find in the memoirs about his life or family, but it should be.
Writing Exercise #1: Food (What you had for Breakfast, Lunch, or dinner (10 Min exercise)
The trick to making perfectly done soft scrambled eggs is using a rubber spatula. I know that may sound like a joke or an insignificant piece of a puzzle when it comes to the process, but it isn’t. For the longest time scrambled eggs were hard and fast in my kitchen. The occasional fried egg would also grace my breakfast skillet, breakfast plate, and eventually my belly. That all changed one gloomy Sunday morning in March while I was visiting a friend in Atlanta. Lala, the friend, just so happened to be the lead pastry chef at a chic restaurant. You can tell a restaurant is chic when it only opens for lunch, dinner, and only certain days of the week. One might even call this type of establishment exclusive. Thanks to the circumstances that led me to having a friend that is a chef, who lives in Atlanta and invited me to brunch at her sister's restaurant, I was able to try the best eggs I'd ever tasted.
We were afforded the opportunity to try a large selection of items on the menu, compliments of the kitchen. One dish in particular, the pork belly, really blew my taste buds away like Arnold to any bad guy in any of his many action movies. It was tender, succulent, savory perfection that melted on my tongue. As wonderful as that wonderful pork fat was, the softest eggs on earth left such a mark on me. It was my duty, my goal, my dream to recreate them for myself. In the grand scheme of things no one would probably consider me a chef or an awesome cook. However, I do pretty well for myself in the kitchen when it comes to recreating things especially if I have a good recipe to follow. Most people who can’t cook have either never actually tried, followed directions or taken their time. In the age of information that’s all you really need. Just follow the directions Karen or Karl. After a quick google search and Pinterest search, I found a few recipes that lined up and put together the route I would take. Of course you need eggs. Butter and salt were next on the list, so simple. What else would you cook scrambled eggs in if not a skillet? The method was simple; whisk the eggs together in a bowl, add the salt, set the skillet on a low setting, pour the melted butter in said skillet, stir in eggs. Not too different from what you might do on any given morning cooking eggs to go with your bacon and avocado toast. The one thing I saw in all the recipes I'd found that seemed to get the results was the rubber spatula. It was imperative in order to get the right stirring method in which to slowly help move the eggs while they cook without disturbing the soft consistency I wanted to achieve. There is no flipping these eggs, or vigorously scrambling them with whatever cooking utensil you would normally use. You want a smooth stir that slowly turns into a smooth fold until heavenly golden (yellow) perfection is reached. That's the trick to soft scrambled eggs that will melt your worries away. At-least for a little bit.