Thanks for trying the book page blackout technique (scientific terminology there) in class Tuesday. Please share at least one of your blackout text pieces as a COMMENT on this post. You could type the text you left on the page as a sentence or poem or story. You could also take a picture with your phone and post your work that way on your own blog, but that is optional.
I'm thinking you could do this same technique with any printed material containing a good chunk of text to work with. I also think you could be inspired to write all sorts of other pieces by using your blacked out piece as a starting point.
You could visit Austin Kleon's website to see what others have come up with and even post your own work there if you're up for it.
"listen...wait." I said. I had hurt him, eternally sorry. "I loved you."
ReplyDeleteShe's alive. Everything began to make sense. It even explained why she didn't hear the garage door opening.
ReplyDelete"If you ask me, one must make mistakes. It is true, the little secret he told me. He never thought he'd meet a girl as cool as Lucy."
ReplyDeleteMy blackout poem:
ReplyDelete"My strange situation was blue eyes and a pale hello."
She could feel the answering rhythm, her face bright with happiness.
ReplyDelete"At first glace I saw a body streaked with blood, when I looked back the daylight startled me. Alone, I transferred, the steam rising in a cloud around me."
ReplyDelete"My knees felt so wobbly. I suppose you met him... Last month, yes. I never saw him again. Maybe he was looking at the river; and it made him think of you. But what was he looking for? A beautiful rowboat girl? He just hoped to find love."
ReplyDelete"The shiny fork in the top of the shinning red tin will still cut the brave old man slowly. This was better than seeing him drift around the street."
ReplyDelete"Spinning, blind in his wonderful ecstasy"
ReplyDeleteHe said there is a difference between listening and hearing, just as there is a difference between seeing and knowing."
ReplyDeleteOnly child, parents are members of the minority Roman Catholic. Father, born in 1896, served in the military. Grandfather owned three dry good stores after the civil war. She was the daughter, financed by a gift and spent summers in a leisurely visit.
ReplyDeleteBit by bit I finally reached hope. Tears in my eyes, suddenly, I reach out.
ReplyDelete"Now the yellow stains expressed curiosity between them."
ReplyDelete"I don't love you when you're mad. Love is stuff you feel, when I look at you. I am not mistaking love. I loved to admit when I saw him I blushed. The truth is, I blush because I thought of him."
ReplyDelete"There I was waiting,but I don't know what for."
ReplyDeleteDays of confinement. Her eyes settled. Shriveled dirty and wounded, feeling suddenly out of place. This intimate moment close to shattering like glass.
ReplyDeleteSpinning, a familiar madness. She is not a threat, but omens. I waited, tucked away again. Frantic scribblings-it had been to long.The are risks
ReplyDeletePeacocks on a gate, are difficult to raise. Hee-haa-awww!
ReplyDeleteTheir reflections, long face, high cheekbones, gloss lips, staring at the mirror.
ReplyDeleteThe universe, the sound of the other presence. The echo died away in waves.
ReplyDeletechoose two worlds. you feel like an outsiders in both.
ReplyDeleteI had felt lame all of my life. I am now standing on the front porch as if anyone were to answer. I couldn't wait, I had to know today.
ReplyDeleteLove was soft like the snow beneath my feet but you left me sobbing.
ReplyDelete