Edit: more stories added at the bottom
You always leave me such lovely and humorous comments and I never get around to replying. I'm terrible. I know this. You still love me anyways.
So, I've been leading this class on writing, but I haven't been writing about it here. Again, I know...terrible. Anyways, each lesson we have an in-class exercise to help stretch those writing muscles. This week we did an exercise called Seven Places, Seven Smells. Care to have a crack at it? I'd love to read the results.
Seven Places, Seven Smells: In this exercise, list seven places. Anywhere will do; your kitchen, the office, the streets of Venice, whatever pops into your head. After you have listed those seven places, list a smell that comes to mind for each place. Once you have them all listed, circle the pair that you find most intriguing, then start writing.
April's List:
[1] mom's kitchen - the scent of fresh baked banana bread
[2] the beach - coconutty suntan lotion
[3] Donnell Lake in Michigan - dad's fishing tackle
[4] the streets of Venice (yep, been there) - stinky canal water
[5] my grandmother's backyard - sweet williams and roses
[6] the nursing home where my great aunt stayed - boiled cabbage
[7]
Haiti - diesel fuelAnd this is what I wrote:
I used to hate the smell of diesel fuel and the flashbacks that came with it. The dead man lying in the road covered with a single palm branch. The sound of Voodoo drums in the night. The look of emptiness in so many eyes. I was only there for ten days in 1995 and still these shadows lingered. So, I started writing.
I went back through the journal I'd kept and tried to decipher my handwriting, in French, written during a long bumpy truck ride. Why had I written it in French? I barely remember any of my French, now. Why did I have to be so bloody esoteric? I gave up on trying to crack my own code and wrote from memory. I wrote about the whole experience; the good, the bad, and the funny. I wrote until nothing else was left, and when I'd finished, I felt at peace with my memories. I haven't had a flash back since and the smell of diesel doesn't bother me so much anymore.
That's my story. What's yours?
Post this exercise on your blog. Then come back here, leave me a link, and I'll post it here. Happy writing.
Comments (8)
A writing class. That is so cool. I would love it if there was something around here like that.
I have found it so amazing through this writing experience that it serves to soothe me. I might not even be aware I need soothing, and yet at the end of my own 'journey' through words, I am at peace.
Great idea! I've got so much to write, I'll just lurk and read everyone else's.
I did this exercise, it's up on my blog. Loved this, thanks April.
Hmm, I'm not good at remembering places and smells. I can do it separately. I can remember places but not necessarily the smells associated. I'll have to be more conscious of this while I move through life. I'll give it some thought and possibly come back.
Does hubby make and maintain websites? How much does he charge? I'm looking around. Got a quote from Fishtree/Eric. I'm not sure yet what I want on it.
I've been meaning to do this but just haven't got to it. Soon.
I haven't had much sense of smell for a long time, but I am feeling a need to begin writing in my journal again. It's been a few years, and I've changed so much.