I was up all night last night with voices in my head. No, I'm not crazy, I'm in the middle of writing monologue performance prose poems for my senior writing project and I have so many character ideas that won't shut up. It was so great to spend all night making notes and I wrote 6 new eices this evening. I feel good about that but there is a lot to go. I need 30+ peices by the end of this week, or next week at the latest. I'm on a pretty good role so far though.
I have 4 more characters that exist in notes too, but their peices weren't coming out well so I stopped for the night. hers'a one of my favorites though:
3C
The walls in this building, theyre thin. And the bathrooms, they butt up against each other on the inside wall. Something about pipes makes all old buildings that way. So I hear her, the woman next door. Shes an opera singer. I can never understand what shes singing. Sometimes simply scales, trilling up and down. And sometimes a pitch isnt quite right, not that I would notice, so she stops. Starts again from the beginning. And when she hits the tops of scales the notes, they just sore through the paper walls. Mix with the ting of water against the metal shower fixtures, and my spine tingles. I go hot and light-headed. I lean my face against the tile wall, the steam of the shower smoothing my skin, warming my feet, my face cool against ceramic. My hand lifts, as if to the music, and I cant stop it. And I breathe with her rhythm; listen for the word, amore. Her voice and my breathing ringing in my ears. I urge myself, faster faster before she finished. And I picture the warm, hard water dribbling down her clean skin. I picture her like the women of ancient opera, soft and curving. Olive skin with deep, dark, wet features. She is my Amore, she haunts my shower. I pant while she sings. Then the water stops. I collect myself. And I get dressed in an empty room with clean sheets, and a single bed.
the concept is all the characters are refered to by their apartment numbers, except those who don't live in the building. They have a verb and an asociation to an appartment. The title is "The Co-op" It's getting there.
Oh ma only 23 days of class left and so little assurance of a future. i'm getting nervouse
I have 4 more characters that exist in notes too, but their peices weren't coming out well so I stopped for the night. hers'a one of my favorites though:
3C
The walls in this building, theyre thin. And the bathrooms, they butt up against each other on the inside wall. Something about pipes makes all old buildings that way. So I hear her, the woman next door. Shes an opera singer. I can never understand what shes singing. Sometimes simply scales, trilling up and down. And sometimes a pitch isnt quite right, not that I would notice, so she stops. Starts again from the beginning. And when she hits the tops of scales the notes, they just sore through the paper walls. Mix with the ting of water against the metal shower fixtures, and my spine tingles. I go hot and light-headed. I lean my face against the tile wall, the steam of the shower smoothing my skin, warming my feet, my face cool against ceramic. My hand lifts, as if to the music, and I cant stop it. And I breathe with her rhythm; listen for the word, amore. Her voice and my breathing ringing in my ears. I urge myself, faster faster before she finished. And I picture the warm, hard water dribbling down her clean skin. I picture her like the women of ancient opera, soft and curving. Olive skin with deep, dark, wet features. She is my Amore, she haunts my shower. I pant while she sings. Then the water stops. I collect myself. And I get dressed in an empty room with clean sheets, and a single bed.
the concept is all the characters are refered to by their apartment numbers, except those who don't live in the building. They have a verb and an asociation to an appartment. The title is "The Co-op" It's getting there.
Oh ma only 23 days of class left and so little assurance of a future. i'm getting nervouse
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
nous242:
Don't be nervous, you can always join the circus. I think that piece is spectacular, btw. 
starfior:
I am crazy and often stay up with the voices in my head.