Paint the Town Red (Creative Prompt)

(Working with a group of other creative folks, I tackled writing prompts based on common expressions or sayings. Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing some of my contributions with you, my faithful readers…)

PAINT THE TOWN RED

That’s a crapload of paint, thought the artist, observing the pile of boxes and their cyndrilical contents. A crapload of RED paint. A crapload of really, REALLY red paint.

I wonder, he asked himself, cocking his currently bare head to one side, what they call it? Fire Engine Red would be too tame; Cherry Red too sweet; Blood Red too…something.

None of those captured the fiery, yet wholesome and somehow EAGER energy of this particular red. If your heartbeat had a color on the day you first kissed your one true love, then this would be the color.

He turned from the cases of paint that he was contemplating, and sized up his canvas.

Spreading out before him, it lay pristine, waiting. Even in the quiet dim hour of midnight, he could sense it out there, ready to come to life…to become art. From Main Street in the middle distance to the warehouse district where he stood on the roof of his “studio”, he could almost hear the blank slate’s desire to be brought to life with a great big dose of…

of…

First Love Red.

THAT was what it should be called he decided, as he pulled one of the pressurized cylinders out of its box and shook it up, the rattle speaking to him of bright splashes of glory to come. Pulling the hood of his paint spattered and voluminous sweatshirt over his head with one hand and limbering up his nozzle-finger on the other, he set off.

Oh yeah, he thought with glee, I’m gonna tag the WHOLE DAMN TOWN!

Fit as a Fiddle (“Creative” Prompt-I chose writing, of course…)

(Working with a group of other creative folks, I tackled writing prompts based on common expressions or sayings. Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing some of my contributions with you, my faithful readers…)

Fit as a Fiddle

She: I don’t even know what that means
Me: Well, it means, um, healthy as a horse
She: What if it’s a sick horse?
Me: A sick horse?
She: Yeah, like ready for the glue factory
Me: You’re being pretty literal, don’t you think?
She: It’s not my fault that your use of language is imprecise
Me: It’s just an expression!
She: Oh, like a facial expression? Can fiddles smile? What if it frowns? Is that a good thing? I’m not convinced. Now, maybe if you had said you were fit as a fiddLER, it might make more sense.
Me: Sure, ok, I guess.
She: Because, after all, you’d have to be in shape to do all that fiddling, right? All that bowing and fingering, especially if you’re in a band that does all those Irish jigs and things.
Me: Ok then, I’m fit as a fiddLER
She: Although, I guess even fiddlers get sick too, especially during flu season. Are you saying you might have the flu?
Me: *sigh*

Weekend Writing Prompt: A Strange Tale of the Demon Jackson

Sometimes I wonder at myself…I woke up with this writing prompt in my head: A STRANGE TALE OF THE DEMON JACKSON” and this is what came out of it…

Jackson sat at table
And ate what he was able
But never saw
What filled his jaw
blind as a nut was he!

Jackson chewed his finger off
And if that weren’t enough
He nibbled on his little toe
So tasty that he wasn’t slow
To eat up the next three!

“All so tasty!” He did cry
and then a look came to his eye
As blind as he was
I was scared because
Old Jackson looked at Me!

And that’s how in his demon play
My left hand got this way
‘Cause Jackson opened up his grin
My five fingers they got eaten in
Jackson’s wicked glee!

So never sit at table, friend
While blind old demon chews
He’ll eat his own off, then look out
He’ll finish off with yours!!

Weekend Writing Prompt-Use it, or lose it

Look around you…

See something you haven’t touched in awhile? A book you haven’t read? A dish you haven’t eaten from? A chair you haven’t sat it?

Write a 100 word apology.

OR

If you’re brave, write a 100 explanation to it about why you’re going to get rid of it…

After the Hiatus

…comes the fresh perspective!

Over the past few months I’ve been over occupied with getting readjusted to the world of commuting, training for a Triathlon, and just plain playing. It’s my late summer standard, but now by gosh the harvest moon is in the sky, the pumpkins are competing to come home with me for transformation into Jack o’Lanterns, and NaNoWriMo is just around the corner…

So welcome back, Dear Readers, I look forward to the cooler nights and cuddling up to the fire with a warm blog…

Weekend (Photo) Writing Prompt: Incongruity is King

I thought I’d share something from a recent urban hike for this Weekend (Photo) Writing Prompt, and ask you about its incongruity.

Tough parking spot

 

I came across this spot while hunting for…well, not PARKING, obviously.  Your job, Dear Writer, is to tell me the story of how it came there.  Perhaps it’s a relic of an ancient civilization, or a piece of perfomance art created by precocious pandas…whatever it is, write us 150-200 words about its backstory (bonus points if you can actually identify the setting).

If you have a blog or website of your own, I’d love a pingback to your response!)

Weekend Writing Prompt: World Championship of WHAT??

Monster Truck Wrestling.  The Triathlon of Tweeting.  We need some new sports out there in the world.  That’s why this Weekend Writing Prompt is all about getting away from the desk and getting involved in physical activities.  Or, maybe, just imagining new team logos to spread all over ESPN Sports Center.

So let’s hear a 500 word description on a new sport, a new competition, or a new race type.  Whether it’s the Kayak/Dwarf Tossing dualathlon or poodle polo, tell us about the teams or players, the rules, and what the prize is for the grand championship winners.  They can’t all go to Disneyland…

(If you have a blog or website of your own, I’d love a pingback to your response!)