Metaphor Thread, Description Practice

[Yukimura]

**Edit: Please post what this writing means to you. There's no right answer, and most of the time I really have no intent to make it mean anything. I suppose I'm just trying to understand human condition.**

This is going to be pretty random stuff. It's the kind of thing that goes through my head a lot, sort of thoughts that seem disconnected, you know, lost from their original meaning. Anyway, I'm going to use it to practice my descriptive writing. I think after just one, you'll get the idea. Feel free to join in, critique, or just give your input. Um... let's begin.

**Edit2: I'll add titles so it will be easier to reference them.**

Wind:
The breeze blows free and cool across the lawn, a breath of life from a distant source. Wherever it came from, wherever it's going, right now it's here. The leaves lay dead and forgotten on the ground, waiting simply to rot away. Then the breeze comes to them. For a brief joyous moment, they are again lifted from the earth, defying gravity as they once did, dancing elated. The breeze is a great healer, and passes through without malice. Until it feels pain. The howling wind will chill body and soul. It penetrates to the bone. Even on a warm night, one will shiver when they hear its suffering. Until the burden is too great. Its pain will spiral and spiral until the leaves are sent soaring to the heavens. The leaves do not care, for they were dead, but the constructions of man and beast are no longer immune. In its raging woe, the storm will send them flying. It will tear them apart. Until the world knows its pain. Its judgment is in perfect balance. It inflicts exactly what it once felt, and then it rages no more. Once again I will know the gentle breeze that comforted me like the breath of life.

[roachboy]

i'll play along when i have a bit more time than i do at the moment.
but i'll offer a suggestion regarding your experiment--

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caveat: we do not have the same aesthetic, so keep that in mind no matter what i say, here or elsewhere, ok?
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aside: my journal is a kind of daily writing practice. that's how i look at it mostly--working on sentences as an end in itself, like practicing piano.

so one suggestion is to start a journal of your own, if you dont already do one.
if you make one here, folk could interact with what you're up to there as well as here.
and i dunno--while i certainly wouldnt hold anything i am doing up as a model, i can say that doing the daily or almost daily practice has had a huge impact on everything i write. especially on my academic writing--which for a long time i just hated.

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anyway:

i imposed a constraint on myself of eliminating all extra words.
in the journal i use line breaks to force myself back onto the sentences as if they are surfaces that i get to polish.

the flipside of doing that is that the constraint i impose on myself also imposes one on readers, who i think have to do a bunch of work to figure out what is going on.

while that doesn't bother me personally, it is a tradeoff.
but unless you are considering publishing a piece, i am not sure that you have to worry about that. and even then, you have choices.

to your experiment: i think you explain too much.
the desire to explain seems to cause you to go beyond metaphor construction and into what--in my view--is telling your reader how they are supposed to react. it's like you are pushing the reader around. like you arent sure that you want to give the reader space to make your story as *a version* of what you intend--you seem to want to transmit your intent directly so that the reader reacts as you do.

it may be that what you need to develop is more confidence in your skills--which are considerable--so that you can allow readers more space to make the language jump and do things for themselves.

if my experience is any guide, that'll enable you to do less. that's a start anyway. the rest is practice.

the above is obviously general, but i think it points to something that runs throughout.

believe in what you are doing more so that you feel like you have to say less.

if you want to fill stuff in, be expansive, then do it because it has an effect that you think desirable for itself--this is different from defaulting into explanation.

and its ok to make readers do work, i think.
of course, not everyone agrees with that.

as a population, my experience of the tfp readership is that it seems to prefer that the writing do alot of work for them.

but that's a separate matter from how you might think about what you write.

and in the end, that perference is their collective choice (or problem, depending on how you see things).

keep going tho. ignore everything else i say if it doesnt resonate, but keep going.

[Yukimura]

Thanks roachboy, that's really helpful input. I often worry that I force my interpretation of a vision too much, over-stating my explanation. At the same time, I find that when I read or watch a creative work, my favorite and most memorable points are often when the writer comes right out and states his own interpretation of his writing. (Several anime-style moments come to mind.) I feel I have probably tried too hard to make moments like these happen, like baking a cake with a triple dose of sugar. I appreciate the advice and I'll work towards a better balance.

On to the next one. Let's stick with an elemental theme. Why not?

Earth:
My bare feet hit against the cool rich soil beneath them. Moisture covers them, making the dirt stick to them. When I rub my feet together, I can feel the dirt rolling between them, like a thousand poorly shaped wheels rolling. I drop to my knees and dig my hands in the dirt as well. The feeling calms something deep inside me, and for a moment I feel as though I too am the dirt. Sight leaves me such that all that is left is feel, or sound, they seem so much the same now. It is as though the life of all the world moves within me as it moves above me. Their frequencies, each identical yet molding together, move through my very being. As I move deeper, pressure builds more, and those frequencies drift far away. However, I become strong. This pressure causes me to form my own identity. The passage of time becomes foreign to me as this process occurs. There is no longer anything else to measure myself against, and so there is no longer time. All I know is my change. I become hard, firm, strong, even hot. Might pulses through me, and it is as though nothing can move me. Yet, it is as though I am liquid. Flowing ever so calmly, yet unwavering, a tide of sheer will. I sense another, coming towards me. It will not falter, and nor will I. Our crash is explosive, yet silent. We tear up through the earth above us, and as the delicate soil is pushed aside, I remember for a moment what it was like when that was me.

[Yukimura]

If you readers don't mind, how about posting your interpretation of these posts. I'd like to hear where your minds take it. It'll help me to get a feel for where my writing takes people.

Next one, something new!

Poison:
A well that's pure; it's deeper than the eye sees. The water seems endless. But a single drop of poison, black and destructive, dripping with murderous intent, will sully it all. One single drop in a thousand gallons makes for a thousand gallons of poison. I must find the well that does not folly. It's the source from which the water flows. It cannot be sullied, it cannot become foul. I must pour myself into this incontaminable source.