WRITING PROMPTS

Are you the same person you were 2 years ago? How? How not?

Take a 10 minute walk. Write about something formerly unnoticed.
Take a 2 minute walk around the room you’re in. Write about….

Describe someone you haven’t seen since you were 6 years old.

Write about an object you lost.

Are you a writer if you quit writing? Artist if you quit making art?

I need a good prompt. It’s been four months, reader, and all I’ve managed to write are descriptions about my state of health. Granted, my health is pretty interesting under the circumstances. Really, how many old ladies do you know who are recovering from a broken neck? Who was asked by the office nurse if I’d fallen recently? Who came close to death and still haven’t been seen by a real doctor? (Only assistants and machines. I am the forerunner to the age of total robotic care.)

Even with all this drama, conversations about health have a limited life span before they begin smelling like rancid cheese.

So I’m back to looking for prompts — made harder by my new hermetic lifestyle.

By the way, whatever happened to the Holiday Social Whirl…cocktail parties, girl gift exchange lunches, mother and daughter shopping trips, wreath making with the club, embarrassing office parties? My partner and I have gone to one (1!) holiday dinner party. It was lovely. I got to wear really cute clothes. We stayed up until after 10 pm and spent the next morning in bathrooms.

Secret to a happy marriage: two bathrooms.

So here I am wondering: if I’m not writing, am I still a writer?

Before you ask, I suppose that question can be expanded to just about any working label. Are you still an artist? an engineer? a dentist? Is this why retirees die soon after retiring — forgotten, depressed, no place to go at 8 am, no reason to take daily showers?

Of course, we humans like to think of ourselves as more than just “what we do.” Everyone of us is a complete pile of remarkable cells with totally unique talent and hair.

I get that we are part of something great and mysterious. Our part in this ‘longest play in the universe’ is required. There are no understudies. We’re it. Maybe that’s why I’m so tired lately. This is major stress.

All that philosophy aside — which, face it, requires much more space than a breezy little 500 word essay — am I still a writer/artist/creative person? Because at the end of the speech, that’s the real issue. Do you need proof or applause or cash money to prove that the talent is worthy?

(Susan Sarandon in “Shall We Dance” says “we need a partner to serve as the witness to our life.” I love the implication. No matter who we are, we need a witness…maybe one of the best lines in any movie. Possible exception: Cher (Moonstruck) “I’ll come to your funeral in a red dress” but that line doesn’t work so well out of context.)

So I remain standing on the firm side of “am I still a creative person even when, by my own definition, I’m not creating anything?”

Yes. And so are you.