It’s hard. Themes want to emerge. Humans have an urge toward meaning. Trees want to be guardians. The moon is a sister. Peanut butter turns out to be a memory of childhood. Even the damn cracked concrete driveway suggests a journey.
But perhaps we can stimulate our creativity backwards by adding the pressure of resisting meaning, of not bowing to the urge to let those associations and connections come.
Here are mine. Complete sentences only! Let me ponder yours. I would like that.
Bark is blood.
Rebecca hands down rubber band wraps.
Brilliant, dried up sandwich meat drives off.
Oxen sunshine wins the pickle.
Father Betty put gloves on stools.
Falling face powder signals a new peace.
Add up all the mouse trap do-overs.
Can you do this?
Ann Linquist Writes 
The Pythagorean Theorem poured on a Belgium Waffle adds nothing to the flavor.
The orchestra played Beethoven’s Fifth Pinochle hand.
Going bonkers in Yonkers is far better than going wacko in Waco.
There is no better way to command a crowds attention that with a Bagpipe Fanfare.
1 part Baking Soda, one part Elmers Glue and three parts sparklingly compound
if left alone long enough will not be a fan favorite dish at the carry – in,
let sleeping dogs lie, but when they wake up, give them a polygraph test.\\
there is absolutely nothing that a well worn fedora can do to improve the looks of a fat gut with a rotund beer belly wearing skimpy tight speeodos
*giggle*
What fun!
Love a Pinochle reference. It just flows, and then you have to do a double take.
John raptured his elephant in pasta.
Patti’s fronds hate her cake and Frodo too.
His hands were bound for glory in licorice as cows are want to do.
Pretty Soon dabbed lipstick on her privates who made sergeant.
Dog house custard spread like gossip while Marsha pickled.
Thongs of people smiled as disbelievers condomed them.
Donuts laughed like rubber bands singing off Key West.
I love these.
I can “almost” follow your train of thought, and it was fun trying to do that. Love the verb “raptured” in your first sentence.
hi! Its my first time posting; I felt compelled to try this!
My faves:
Eels wheeled furry trikes.
Ears waxed eerie flights.
Sores soared mightily over garden glump.
Windows fell where doors soared.
My fingers blossomed with ripe cushions.
Staples careened against radiator shoes.
Ones that still made sense somehow:
Skin plopped when popcorn stopped.
Spoons stabbed moon cake.
Frank was frank about his frank for a franc.
Mirrored handprints spoke eerily.
It is hard to not link associations with the words or images, but it was fun to try! Thanks for letting me share.
As it was well known that Lord Wilberforce was in possession of the only electric wildebeest in the county, Lady Sillitoe, the ranch dressing heiress, was keen to visit his roundhouse before Saint Drummond’s Day, which, as is typical of cyclical holidays that fall within a month containing the letter R but no vowel, she knew would arrive in little more than a farthing before the full charge.
Mary admired the sorghum wainscoting that lined the west wall of the Olympic-size pool where the famous portrait of Richard Nixon, crafted entirely of peanut brittle and ornately carved custard, hung beside a donut rack that had once been used during peacetime.
At thirty-thousand feet and descending rapaciously, Reginald noticed the sweeper bag had become full and he wondered if Marguerite might have been better off using coal oil rather than the costly port glass which had become rancid lying in the darkness.
It was on nights like these that Hubert wondered aloud how it could be possible, given only a set of bias-ply tires and a horse-hair toothbrush, to prove the theories of a horticultural genius like Mrs. Godfrey, who, devoid of any sense of practicality, was known to tune her gas melodeon from a telephone busy signal.
“Eureka,” cried Reverend Donovan as he removed half of a rye bread cupcake from the exhaust manifold of his slobbering three masted schooner, which, heretofore, had been refusing to begin the rinse cycle on even the narrowest of slopes.
Just as the silver tureen became centered in the crosshairs, Yves Somre, the world renowned chiropodist and stereopticon personality, thrust back the curtain to reveal two axe-men, one of whom, days from the summit but well supplied with tea, appeared in dire need of a quality hassock.
Amazing responses to Ann’s challenge.
You are never one to let the a chance for creativity to pass you by. Here you name characters, give us unlikely settings, stick in unexpected nouns, and end up tying our brains in wonderful knots. Love it all.
This might not make sense in a common sense kinda of way, but it’s true: I leave for Mongolia Saturday.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. How’s that for a nonsensical reply, Gully? (Occasionally, we step around common sense. Our detour may hold uncommon rewards).
Cap must be beside himself with excitement. But that’s not uncommon, is it. 🙂
Or, in other words, The Alaskan eschews sense, writes in no-space previous to leaping for Mongolian yurts.
(I’m sure others can translate this better.)
As you may remember, I am teaching a writing class to female inmates at our county jail. Last week we covered your Galumphing technique. It was a great session. But yesterday, I was called in to the Warden’s office to explain “Just what this Galumphing thing is.”
The Warden was concerned because it seemed to be all the rage in A Block. I explained that it was a technique to spark the creative juices in writers. Then she explained to me what the inmates had turned it into meaning.
In jail, women get maxi pads for their personal hygiene. So some of them tear apart the maxi pads and use the material to roll their own tampons….Evidently, Galumphing is now the code word for Tampon Rolling. I swore to the Warden that this was not my idea. But Ann, you may be getting a letter from her cause I blamed you. (So Sorry)
I applaud you for teaching writing at the county jail.
The inmates are quite creative. I think “galumphing” is an appropriate code word for what’s going on in A Block. 🙂
Any scene that includes galumphing, A Block, and tampons has my attention.
What fun it would be to respond to a Warden! I’m feeling inspired already.
I think your reality is far more interesting than most stories, Peanut.
What a scream!!!
1. Autumn glued taffeta on the shattered wall.
2. I talked rubbery while rain fell flat on the moon beams.
3. Relatively singing, he plugged the doorknob with dog food.
4. Margie’s teacher assigned recess and spoke harshly at empty desks.
5. Mary and John scraped moss off their dishes. They ate it in tall wine bottles.
6. On line ordering makes health issues ride horses across the ocean.
7. Obviously, an apple eats wormy garbage.
Good grief. Why was that so easy?
I like the idea of talking rubbery. I am going to try that just after I relatively sing. You’re good, Shaddy. I’m glad to hear from you!
Isn’t it interesting that while trying to write nonsense, our minds still try to sneak in sense?
It’s almost irresistible! Hey, I thought you were in Mongolia?
Peanut,
I forgot to say to tell A Block that they are super creative ladies. Not only do they galumph, but they are big time bricoleurs!
Ann, I will tell them tomorrow in class.
THE BRICOLEURES OF A BLOCK
What a great title for a book or even a mini series like Orange is the New Black.
I do believe, I will give the Warden a heads-up before I introduce another creative word to my Cons.
To give recognition to ladies who likely feel invisible is a great gift, Peanut. Good for you.
1.Swing the kennet freely.
2.Nibble conscious nothing.
3.Counting Beetle dust elongates algebra.
4.Adding partridge singularly crunching the lemonade gives you monkey.
5.I have to squelch blueberry rum but not rabbit lake scones.
6.Squeeze’em but one must button a shirt.
7.Jingles mire pudding tassels often.
Super deluxe! These are totally impossible to follow, but it’s fun to watch my brain try to make a picture out of each.
Yellow post its trap doors.
Angry green beans play golf.
Trees can’t stand pompous squirrels.
Bricks want to run.
The radio tripped over a large pencil.
If paper cared it would.
The bridge got tired of standing.
I had to laugh at those angry green beans. Those rascals. Lots of original thoughts here!
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