hello. are you ready to write?
hello and welcome!
This is a newsletter for you. You, who wants to spark creativity and reflect. You, writer of poetry, essays, fiction, songs, journal entries, and any other transformative creations.
The name of this newsletter, Sun Showers, refers to the meteorological phenomenon in which it rains while the sun is shining. Take a little bit of inspiration from whatever it is you're experiencing, whether it be pain or joy or something in-between, and let it guide you in the process of creation.
Each week, I’ll write a little piece inspired by the previous week’s prompt. If there are submissions, I’ll share some writing by subscribers, as well. Finally, I’ll include the new prompt.
If you'd like, you can reply directly to this newsletter to share your weekly piece with me for feature in the next week's newsletter.
ashley’s piece:
Air currents, water currents. Land plants, water plants. They sway, bob, breathe together, sometimes intertwined, limbs like arms. It’s easy to take for granted the balance, the symmetry that undergirds our world, our existence. I don’t believe in god, but I believe in nature, beauty, this spirit that we, everything, channels. The blue of the sky, of the sea, of an eye. The brown of the mountain, the skin, warm wood. All of it echoes back and forth.
I’m feeling so separate these days, even for such a homebody. It’s less an issue of not being able to socialize, ready for a party, because really, when do I ever ache for a party? It’s rare. It’s more that I miss the incidental human connection. Sitting in a coffee shop listening to chatter. The barista taking an order, a pair of teens discussing a homework assignment, two old friends talking about a new movie they saw. I miss walking down the hallway at work and smiling at a student, seeing their face open and brighten in response. Stupid, inane conversation: “how’s your day?” “Eh, at least it’s Thursday!” A goofy laugh. I miss the kind of connection we take for granted.
So I’m trying to reach out, find the echoes. I hear the birds chatter, see the butterfly drift past. I post a silly story on Instagram to balance my fears, to have an excuse to say I’m here, I see you, let’s chatter, let’s sway. Let’s drift past each other for a little bit of connection
this week’s prompt:
Start a 5 minute timer and use that opportunity to describe everything around you. Be as detailed or as concise as you wish. Maybe you want to describe a single object with all of your senses. Perhaps you want to list all of the items you can see. It’s totally up to you. Whatever you do, write the entire time. Don’t allow yourself to stop; rather, see this as an opportunity to push yourself further.
When the timer goes off, you may be done. Or maybe you got into a groove? Either works.
If you’re ready, take a deep breath. Then, go make yourself some tea, a snack, or something else delicious. In other words, walk away from the work and allow yourself some little joy.
When you’re done, come back and read what you wrote. Highlight the parts that move you, or that you still like. Use those sections to distill or start the real piece.