After supper tonight, I went to the grocery. Ostensibly, I was picking up a few items we needed. What I was really doing was writing.
I needed concrete descriptions of summer–something fresher than that sweaty, energy zapping feeling of breath taking heat after a run. I went to feel the chill of air conditioning on my heated skin. I went to see the skinny, tall teen in the way too big red shorts, and to smell-taste the sweetness of ripe strawberries and melon.
I keep a journal of description for each time of year, but sometimes, I just want something fresher. I still don’t have exactly what I need, but I do have some things to enter in that journal, if not my work in progress. I have no place for that feeling of skin tight with dried sweat but it will be there waiting when I need it I hope, even if I’m writing in the dead of winter.
- Cussing by Christine Duncan
- Technology by Christine Duncan
- Anything but work.
- Happy Superbowl Sunday by Christine Duncan
- Don’t Do It For The Day Job
- Throwing the Book at the Wall by Christine Duncan
- Art, in all it’s forms
- Inspiration by Christine Duncan
- Poor Starving Artist doesn’t mean Good Art