Piece on Place
Sadly another short blog post today, I have spent most of the day catching up on reading for the coming weeks of lectures. However, I have been working on a short piece on place for one class. I far prefer writing descriptive pieces, especially if they about objects rather than people, as I find writing dialogue is one of my biggest weaknesses. I could not help but write myself into this piece though, which makes me think that I am writing my self into my work more and more, perhaps to the detriment of my narrative style? Nevertheless, here is a snippet:
Below, the river meanders gently through the landscape, trees bending to sup from its gentle shores, animals gracing the edges, catching the last of the sun by the waterside, negotiating passing families out for a stroll. The sun warms my skin as I stroke the grass, the blades saturating my fingertips. I listen to the conversations of others who brave the climb for the sensations of the view; I play gentle acoustic music, nothing too loud to spoil the fragility of the landscape. The view is etched onto my heart from so many visits; its peaks are engraved on my irises.
Today's soundtrack: Lower Than Atlantis
Below, the river meanders gently through the landscape, trees bending to sup from its gentle shores, animals gracing the edges, catching the last of the sun by the waterside, negotiating passing families out for a stroll. The sun warms my skin as I stroke the grass, the blades saturating my fingertips. I listen to the conversations of others who brave the climb for the sensations of the view; I play gentle acoustic music, nothing too loud to spoil the fragility of the landscape. The view is etched onto my heart from so many visits; its peaks are engraved on my irises.
Today's soundtrack: Lower Than Atlantis
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