My Journey

From mind to paper and back again.

And the start of chapter 6…

on October 31, 2008

Activity 6.1

A FAMOUS POET WITH WRITERS BLOCK.

The entire room is devoted to his craft. There are a few quirky things dotted about, like the old school desk and straight backed wooden chair next to the window. Its inkwell recently filled and tenderly worn, the ink seeping into the glass. A dip ink quill still sits next to it at a perfect right angle, parchment stacked on the other edge of the desk.

At the opposite end of the room a very modern desk is set with all the messiness of work in progress. Notebooks are strewn about, a pen pot, clearly made by a child is the only bright thing in the room, full of pencils and black and red ball point pens. No blue ink to be seen. The chrome laptop is still on with the lid up, a word processor open and seemingly random words are listed on the page. This is also reflected by all the torn and balled up pages lay around the waste paper bin, the multitude of his starts stopped within a few minutes.

Activity 6.2

DUAL PLACES

WOODS – EMPTY FEELING

The feeling of emptiness seeps through the skin, it touches the very bones sending a chill right through you. The wind whistles through the trees is like a ghost from your past warning you about the future. The tree line’s so thick that even at the height of day the sun cant get through to warm the ground. The grass is well trodden and nothing else grows. The shadows of the trees are long and forlorn, covering every inch of the ground. The vastness of the space means it is unlikely you can come across another person, maybe the avid dog walker. You can get lost in the area, as well as in your thoughts.

As the sun fights its battle to win through the leaves of the trees, small patches of light, barely noticeable, shine through. The wind sings its old, familiar song as it sweeps through the leaves and the uppermost branches of the trees. A slight chill, enough for goose bumps but nothing more. The vastness is a monument to a land untouched by man in the middle of the city. The path well worn, testament to how many people have already taken the journey through these woods, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend. Two legs or four doesn’t matter really. When you come out of the other side the sun is waiting to greet you and wrap you in its warmth.

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