(The Margin Inspirations are supposed to be for works written by others that inspire me, however I came across this old homework assignment (from what I’m not sure) that I had written in 2004. It inspires me because it reminds me that yes, indeed, I can write. To be honest, I had to Google some of it to make sure I hadn’t just copied it from somewhere and that I actually wrote it myself.)

(Total tangent: I love that I sit at a table filled with sunshine streaming in and warming me, while I write. I hate that said sunshine throws my reflection into the computer screen and I then obsess about my chin line.

And so I choose – do I focus on driving the writing that pops up across my screen, the perusa or atman or soul of myself? Or do I turn my attention to the image of my physical self reflected behind it and loose my connection to the inner?)

Ok… the writing…

Workbook exercises
7/9 Descriptions

A circle: An endless entity with no formal beginning or end, it loops itself around an item, encompassing and enclosing time and space into a container with no way to escape. The edges are one fluid motion that encourage movement, call to it and ward off any need to end.

A spiral staircase:
A combination of sharp jutting lines and fluid swirling motion, like twigs floating in a river. The gracefulness of the ascension automatically leads one to believe that more beautiful things lie on the upper tiers of this pathway. Descending a spiral staircase means an act of slow and deliberate steps placed on petite pedestals that with one misstep, Gravity traps in its evil snare and leaves the victim in a tangled and bruised pile of knots.

Classical music:
An emotion for the ears, classical music has the ability to surface a mood with no words or pictures. By the nature of its history, it is easy to listen to and yet evokes a certain feeling of ignorance during discussion of even the simplest of sonatas. Classical music is to be listened to, for there lies the simple beauty and purpose, but once analyzed or discussed, it becomes complicated, over thought and heavy… much like romantic relationships.

The color red:
Blood, soup, power ties, wine, lips, balloons… the color red is hot and bursting with something to say, something passionate and powerful. There is no hiding in the corner, no looking at the ground when it walks down the street. The color red tells heavy wet secrets that burn when they slip off of your tongue. The color red leaves plumes of incense in its midst. The color red reveals the side behind the curtain, under the covers and between the lips.

Hot soup:
Forewarning in the steam rising from the surface like mist lifting from a mountain lake, the initial encounter with flesh is simultaneously painful and fulfilling… the knowledge of the impending satiation of hunger and the cost of instant gratification. The scent taunts the impatience with the ability to predict the approaching tasting experience without the actual event. Masturbation for the mouth. Sitting delicately on the spoon, travel

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