Writing from the Heart Day 2

28 May

“I use drawing to teach writing,  and writing to teach drawing, ” said Tony, our playwriting guru.

Today, 20 of us soaked up the exercises and spilled our creative juices over crayon lines and clever words.  Ok, maybe my words weren’t particularly clever but certainly some of my classmates were. 

I found looking at them hugely fascinating. A smorgasbord of characters. Dark brooding serious types,  anarchic idealists,  jaded corporate souls hoping for revival through the arts.  All with different histories,  coming together for a moment time in creative catharsis. I lapsed into sponge-mode and just simply took it all in.

We were exploring “personal mythologies” today.  Learning about how to create a character’s past, present and future. 

“We are going to draw an anamorphic picture,” Tony instructed.

With a pen in my hand,  I scrawled curly lines like a miscarried signature across my piece of paper.

“Now try to make sense of the picture,  transform it to something.”

I fought my mind in over thinking the task and allowed myself to just go with the flow. And ended up with –


“Mermaid spearing a blob at the edge of the sea? ” I explained.

Honestly!  I don’t know if it was my technique which failed me or my incoherent thoughts. I just tried not to draw “a pretty picture”, focusing on letting the empty spaces fill up intuitively. I loved the colours.

Later, using someone else’s picture as a stimuli, we were told to write a story. I was amazed by how many could compose such elaborate and complete stories in just 10 minutes.  Through their words,  you could see their unique approach to life.


I tried hard not to feel like I sucked. After all, today was the day to suspend all judgement (part of Tony’s daily personal awareness training).

But I could not help but feel a damper on my spirits by the end of day.

Never mind.  At least I made a picture and a story! Sort of…


Once there was a happy man. He lived in a small village in the poorest part of the country. He had no place to call home and only the sky as his roof.  He showers when it rains and eats when fruits came into season. When he was sad,  which wasn’t often,  he would sing. His voice brought tears to those who heard him. There were those who cursed him. For when he sang,  it often would be,  that someone dies and their family would be grieving.

“O cursed fool, take your silly songs elsewhere. We don’t want you here,  we want you nowhere.”

He took a tear from the crying father. Curious and befuddled, he asked, “What is this thing you shed? ” No one answered . They just looked at him with such a look, a look he could not read.  But in his heart of hearts,  something bubbled and before he knew it,  the lines of a song followed.

He skipped on from the poorest part of the country to the richest part of the country.  And he would sing and sing,  and no one stopped him. As it would come to be,  as time gone by,  that finally he was alone.

And as mysteriously as he came to singing,  his songs finally stopped.

It was based on a fellow classmate’s drawing of a mad hatter sorta character. He took my mermaid killer in exchange. I felt like I delivered him an injustice!

Haha. .. my lack of confidence strikes again!  Oh well.

For Day 3, our awareness training – watch your emotions. Question what you are feeling and try to ask “Am I dreaming?  Or is this real? ”

Bohemian Rhapsody comes to mind.  😉

2 Responses to “Writing from the Heart Day 2”

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