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About Theresa Nichols Schuster
- Theresa Nichols Schuster
- Theresa Nichols Schuster is author of "Brittle Silver" and "We Are the Warriors" a 2015 USA Regional Excellence Book Award Finalist. She currently lives in southwest Montana where she appreciates the wonders of nature, family, friends, a bit of pottery.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
I really don't like writing exercises. I don't know if it is because I am a bit lazy at heart and repetition sounds like work without purpose or if it is my desire to do something useful or directed supersedes my willingness to practice. One of those "foibles" of mine... (Oh, do look up the root and origin of the word "foible." Very interesting!)
Anyways, I decided to embark a bit unwillingly on a suggested writing practice that consisted of creating several paragraphs composed of strings of words that begin with the same or similar sounds...often called alliteration.
So I began writing with no intention, no purpose, no direction or reason to write... all very odd for me. In my mind, I figured I would just be writing gobblty-goop, nonsensical stuff of no import.
So, as the silly thoughts slipped smoothly from my poised, pointy pen, I pondered the subtle subterranean strands streaming onto sunlit paper and in so doing discovered delightfully, the dimly discerned dark, dusky depths. How can this be?... beyond bemused, the beautiful, believable became one with being.
Thus follows my little creation...
As I slid into the smooth swimming suit, my most modest body melted as though one with the mauve material. Without wanting to wear such a tight, twisty top, my bare body boomeranged against the stretchy spandex that smothered silky skin.
So, slowly I slunk down the stairs towards the, oh so public pool. Pondering my proud presentation, I lingered, loitering as laughter lifted lightly and meandered musically and meaninglessly like mist on a moist morning.
Dragging the door open, my figure finally found its way toward the frigid fluid. I dropped despairingly deep down into the dark depths.
Could any kind creature cruelly keep, so sweet a secret that here happens to be, such heavenly a hideout that the whole of humanity hopes to be lost in this huge humid hug?
I found the wonder of the unplanned creativity of simple "writing play" accessing the ethereal essence from our hidden worlds of years ago, seemingly lifetimes ago... The marvel of emotions, scenes, senses that inhabit us, just under the surface.
This type of writing can be a tapping of our subconscious, that mysterious, highly intelligent, creative, obtuse part of us. So seldom do we encounter this free flowing reservoir of ideas, feelings, subtle connections and deep wisdom that is always a part of us.
My invitation to you, is if you journal, doodle or just play with words, try a little alliteration. String together like sounding words and let it be its own creation. By the way, kids just love the musical sound of alliteration! Best to be read out loud. It is great play.