Thursday, March 29, 2018

Playing the "Paint Chip Poetry Game," by some members of the Tuesday Morning Writing Circle

I was recently introduced to the Paint Chip Poetry Game, created by Lea Redmond — a collection of writing prompts (general phrases) as well as “color chips” that combine words and color. We’ve been experimenting with this game in the writing circles, often during the final few minutes of a session. We don’t follow any rules. Writers simply choose random cards/chips to use as a spark, then integrate those words into a short-short piece. Below you’ll see what came up on Tuesday morning, March 27, when we played the Paint Chip Poetry game for a few minutes. Some writers were inspired by many words, some by just one; each writer took off in her own creative direction.

Note: you might enjoy doing this yourself (or with friends). The game is available to buy locally, at Buffalo Street Books. It is beautifully packaged and very colorful!


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It was good while it lasted, I thought, as I looked out my window for my favorite dragon. He was usually just out my nursery window in the open meadow. How many times I had to tell him to be careful of each inchworm now that spring was finally here. I was green with envy at the thought that he got to roam free under the clear skies, while I was stuck in my brushed aluminum room. Oh, it was good while it lasted, my friend.
    - Gabrielle Vehar, using these words and phrases: good while it lasted, dragon, nursery, meadow, inchworm, green with envy, clear skies, brushed aluminum 




I wish my hometown had been Ithaca.
Now we are here and this is how it will all end.
Except that my new hometown is changing, growing so quickly that it took us half an hour to drive a bit more than a mile.
And when we got past the congestion, every one of us sped up angrily.
Very un-Ithacanian.
    - Heidi DeCoo, using: I wish, my hometown, this is how it will end



I hear “I love . . .” often.
I see the heart on Facebook
   a response that seems to connote love.
The word “love” seems to be tossed around
      in a variety of places
And seems to have
      a variety of meanings.
But True Love —
      bringing peace into a hot, dry situation
      bringing life into desolation —
An olive branch in the Sahara.
    - Mary Louise Church, using true love, olive branch, Sahara



The key to happiness.
I'm sorry I heard this phrase when I was younger.
It set me on a path of looking for this key.
I kept expecting someone might pass it along to me in a confidential manner.
But alas, that never happened.
And it made me wonder.
If there is a key to happiness, what would it unlock?
The secret of how to overcome grief?
The door to the road I was meant to follow in life?
A box of treasures beyond all imagining that would provide financial security forever?
    - Nancy Osborn, using the phrase “the key to happiness”


I’ve always been a daydreamer. I can get lost in my own head remembering the past. Sunflowers send me back to British Columbia when I was 20 years old, living on a hippie homestead for American draft dodgers. One small cabin was surrounded by tall blooming sunflowers and that sight went right into my soul. Whenever I see sunflowers, I remember that adventure and smile.
    - Sara Robbins, using sunflower, daydream



High summer.
The combine moves across the field, knocking over the scarecrow,
cutting the hay, bailing it, and dropping the bails,
like turds,
behind it.
    - Saskya van Nouhuys, using scarecrow



When I was little, night was a comforting time, with the full moon illuminating my room.
When I was little, night was a scary time, with the slow waving bare branches of the sycamore making finger-like shadows on my wall.
    - Sue Norvell, using when I was little, night



Listen carefully on nights when there is a full moon.
Are there more sounds than usual or is it my imagination?
There is the long, slow growling howl of a cat fight, the muffled barking of a dog left home alone.
The bus sounds louder late at night with screeching brakes and the wind in the tall trees whooshing mysteriously.
Sometimes I think I hear voices but perhaps it is only birds waking sleepily for a moment, questioning the night.
    - Susan Currie, using listen carefully, full moon

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