"A MAJESTIC FORKLIFT RAN PAST A CRAZY CAT"
"A CHEERFUL HAT WILL DISCOVER A STUNNING STONE"
"THE RAMPANT PAINTING WEIGHS THE FLUFFY HOUNDS"
Friday, 16 August 2013
Writing Exercise: Subconscious Links and Scribble
My handwriting is hard to read so I've re typed it and observed the deeper i went into my mind, the less sense I made.
SHALLOW MIND. SLIGHTLY CONSCIOUS AND AWARE OF TASK:
Words, writing. Nothing. But its something. Fibres constructing on paper and words but what are words to me. The meaning is simple yet so many things are contributing to subconscious value of my scribble.
SLIGHTLY DEEPER: THINKING EMPTY LIKE OPEN AIR.
Stopping at a point is like coming to a cliff and getting and urge to jump. You feel that you want to because I dont know. Go or stop. Those are the options you have.
DEEPER: WORDS LINKED ON LIKENESS OF SOUND.
Words. Nothing. Stopping. Starting. Fibres contracting this word on something. Paper no later can restrict to a latter on meaning to you. For how do I know that deep flow of my mind. Its like keeping birds caged deep deep inside. Black and white newspaper and origami animals unleashed on the world brought to life by the sun and moulded by the hands of the heavens. Heavenly Im sure that is something. Viper clues constricting cues that news wont tell to my pen and paper. Earth quake tables shake and stop as my ink ends the stream line of my climbing story stops.
Without something we can't do anything without ourselves we are nobody whos something if there nobody to see or accept that we are real.
Reflections depicting colours and figures wearing colourful things in the corner of my eye can see too much can focus to a point yet be surrounded by nothing concentration of detail in one frame. A picture is revealing itself to free me something is looking creeping out from its hiding, its beautiful and smiling, its me in my mirror. This reflection is unclear.
What is this the end of my page I see clearly.
SHALLOW MIND. SLIGHTLY CONSCIOUS AND AWARE OF TASK:
Words, writing. Nothing. But its something. Fibres constructing on paper and words but what are words to me. The meaning is simple yet so many things are contributing to subconscious value of my scribble.
SLIGHTLY DEEPER: THINKING EMPTY LIKE OPEN AIR.
Stopping at a point is like coming to a cliff and getting and urge to jump. You feel that you want to because I dont know. Go or stop. Those are the options you have.
DEEPER: WORDS LINKED ON LIKENESS OF SOUND.
Words. Nothing. Stopping. Starting. Fibres contracting this word on something. Paper no later can restrict to a latter on meaning to you. For how do I know that deep flow of my mind. Its like keeping birds caged deep deep inside. Black and white newspaper and origami animals unleashed on the world brought to life by the sun and moulded by the hands of the heavens. Heavenly Im sure that is something. Viper clues constricting cues that news wont tell to my pen and paper. Earth quake tables shake and stop as my ink ends the stream line of my climbing story stops.
Without something we can't do anything without ourselves we are nobody whos something if there nobody to see or accept that we are real.
Reflections depicting colours and figures wearing colourful things in the corner of my eye can see too much can focus to a point yet be surrounded by nothing concentration of detail in one frame. A picture is revealing itself to free me something is looking creeping out from its hiding, its beautiful and smiling, its me in my mirror. This reflection is unclear.
What is this the end of my page I see clearly.
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