Here’s the place to share your creations prompted by the Creative Bursts.  Share what you’ve written, links to drawings or anything else that comes up as you doodle, dance, write or sing your way through a Creative Burst. And feel free to comment on what others share, if you’re so inclined.

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143 Responses to “Creative Bursts”


  1. 1 Miss Hannah August 9, 2011 at 1:14 am

    This is my response to the ‘movie synopsis’ CB on Friday 5th August:

    “In the crushing atmosphere of recession-hit britain, three twenty somethings gather for a evening of beer, TV and soul searching. As the night wears on in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the flat, all must face their fears, their desires, their frustrations. Will Hannah claw her way from the quicksand of her dead-end job into the life of creativity she so desperately craves? Will Emma exorcise her demons and finally face up to her tormentors? And can Matt shepherd them into the light without losing a piece of his own soul?
    Join our heros as they make a voyage of self discovery, described by Random Person as a “roller-coaster ride of laughs, tears and one uncomfortable sofa.” Rated 18 for language.”

  2. 3 Miss Hannah August 10, 2011 at 4:17 am

    Glad you like it, it was so fun!

  3. 4 Andrew Gills August 12, 2011 at 1:28 am

    I am on a creative jaunt. I bought Wreck This Journal and am enjoying the delights of destroying something in order to be creative. It’s akin to slaying my perfectionist dragon and I am discovering that I am really just a big child.

    The day my book arrived I was so excited. I flicked through the pages to see what excitement I could look forward to. And then I felt sad because I realised that the book would not survive the journey I was going to take. There were instructions to rip out pages and to take the journal in the shower with me. How could I do those terrible things to this kind book that had done no wrong?

    But after an argument with my partner and son I felt so sad and hurt. I opened the journal to the first page and wrote my name as instructed: normally, small, illegibly, feintly and in big letters. And then I started to doodle my pain onto the page. I doodled words of hurt and images of my heart breaking at my frustration at being the Evil Stepfather. I think I even wrote those words on the page. And slowly I started to feel a lot better.

    On the second day I found my colouring pencils and attached the instruction page. I coloured the whole page in bright colours. It looked like a rainbow had fallen out of the sky and splattered itself all over the page. There was no set pattern and it’s not a work of art but it was fun.

    On the third day I followed an instruction to add my own page numbers to the book. It didn’t say where to add them so I just added them all to the one page. I created a whole page of sequential numbers in a random pattern. I coloured the instruction letters like a teenager might colour the letters in their text book. It was rather fun to scribble numbers with gay abandon. I also coloured the edges of my book with highlighter and wrote the journal’s thoughts on the edges. My journal wants to be wrecked. It asked for it. And so I will wreck it.

    Today I was instructed to ‘crack the spine’. I bent the journal’s spine in two directions – the one books are meant to bend and the one they’re not. The journal didn’t break or complain. The world didn’t end because I abused the book. It was fabulous. And then I drew some people having their spines cracked and some books being ripped in half along their spines. My drawing is pretty bad so I also found some pictures of spines being broken and sticky taped them onto the page.

    The next page of my book says I must intentionally leave it blank – that doesn’t quite seem destructive enough to my new state of mind. The page is black with white lettering. It seems like a good idea to paint the page white with the shoe paint you use to clean white leather sports shoes. Because black isn’t blank but white is. Why sport shoe paint? Because my wife randomly suggested it and because it seems like something interesting to do.

    A part of me is sad that the book will not be there when this journey is over. It is a kind companion. But there are many things in my life I have to let go of. Perhaps letting go of the book will help me let go of other things I have held onto too long. Perhaps looking at the photos of the fun I had destroying the book will help me look back at memories of those things I must let go with joy instead of sadness.

    And if nothing else – it sure will help me slay my perfectionist demons.

    • 5 stranglingmymuse August 12, 2011 at 10:29 am

      I know about Wreck this Journal, but I haven’t experienced it myself. I’m sure I would also have a hard time destroying it! But I think it must be a good way to be Zen about your creativity. Makes me think of the monks who spend lots of time creating gorgeous sand mandalas, only to let them blow away…

      Thanks for sharing your experiences with the journal. I enjoyed hearing about it! It sounds like you are being wonderfully creative as you work on letting go and slaying your perfectionist demons. Good luck as you continue this journey!

      ~Sandy

  4. 6 Andrew Gills August 19, 2011 at 1:24 am

    NOTICING THINGS BLUE:

    My nephews coloured their sky blue in their drawings when I was distracting them from playing handball inside with their blue bouncy ball. They sat on the blue carpet in front of the blue couch that is covered with blue cushions. Their little sister “helped” by stealing their pencils with a mischievous look in her pretty blue eyes. This “help” resulted in tears as the little boys felt blue with sadness at not being able to use the colours they wanted. But their Uncle Andrew just looked at the little toddler with my blue eyes and asked her to share. Now we have happy memories and drawings with blue skies.

  5. 8 Miss Hannah September 2, 2011 at 3:06 am

    I’m not sure how to post an image Sandy, but here is a link to a blog post where I show a sketch of the contents of my handbag!

    http://illustratorrobinson.blogspot.com/2011/09/journey-with-scissors.html

    I’ve also plugged your blog, I hope you don’t mind!

  6. 10 Liz Gow January 13, 2012 at 11:35 am

    This slightly embarrassing but here goes, my child was definitely outing playing with this

    I love melons, lovely, lovely melons
    I love melons, lovely, lovely, melons
    Red, yellow and orange, yummy in my belly
    Love how they smelly

    Fresh ,funny like jelly
    Best ones are red ones
    I love biting them juices everywhere
    Crunching when you bite them
    Hear it in my ears
    I love melons, lovely, lovely, melons
    They’re not like lemons
    I love melons, lovely, lovely, melons

    • 11 stranglingmymuse January 13, 2012 at 12:32 pm

      I love this song, Liz! You really tapped into the little kid inside you and her enthusiasm for melons. Thanks for sharing what you created! I only wish I could hear you sing it… 😉

      ~Sandy

  7. 12 Hannah February 1, 2012 at 6:18 am

    This is my response to the comic book villain brief. I thought it would be a good one to do as I am working on a comic at the moment! (No villains in it though…)

    The Puppet Master got his name from the first truly evil deed he ever committed. When his lab assistant tried to leave, threatening to expose his unethical research, his rage took over and he fatally attacked the hapless sidekick, trapping his essence in the wooden body of a frail string puppet. Drunk on power and bent on controlling the world around him, his theatre of captives grows daily, each new victim forced to dance jerkily on their strings as the puppet master cackles above. Who can rescue these poor souls and restore them from their wooden puppet state back their old selves? And who is ever safe from the prowling Puppet Master…???

    • 13 stranglingmymuse February 1, 2012 at 1:51 pm

      Oh, Hannah, I love this! What you’ve written puts a vivid image of your villain in my mind. Thanks for sharing it!

      ~Sandy

  8. 14 Liz Gow February 23, 2012 at 10:40 am

    If you peek behind a starry sky at midnight, what do you find? You will find another layer of deep, dark velvet magic. At first it looks blank, really blank but if you look closer there are squillions of fibers, interwoven and connected so tightly that it is extremely difficult to tell them apart, but if you look even closer you may notice that each fibre has its own magic and has chosen to be connected so that it can create an amazing blanket, a vessel that looks empty and yet holds the universe.

  9. 16 leamuse March 3, 2012 at 12:01 am

    My response to yesterdays Creative Burst!

    cheveux 02/03/2012

    older than her teeth
    first appears as down
    changing on her own
    to anemic gold
    braided, ponytail,
    teased, bleached,
    coiffed
    losing her virginité
    to clairol
    at thirteen – noir
    anything was better
    than blonde
    in those days anyway
    teased, sprayed, curled
    which never lasted
    permanents: a study in frizz
    pulled, yanked,
    the rope he drug her by
    cut over and over
    often not by choice
    always growing back rapidly
    with a vengeance
    re-cast as RED (more than once)
    post divorce
    a middle age frosting
    decked out for sons wedding
    she appears grey
    as it grows out
    the greys are few
    you must look close
    thin, fair, straight
    shiny, long
    spilling over skin
    fringed to the lash
    imprisoned
    by a clip
    for her crimes

    bisous,

    léa

  10. 19 Danielle March 6, 2012 at 5:34 am

    Sneaky Sneakers

    Oh you,

    Sneaky Sneakers

    And whatnot too

    Take me anywhere

    You want me to

    Go

    Wish I was home or

    Not

    Sneaky Little Sneakers

    Sneaking up on my heels

    Like its no big deal

    Although

    I wear them on my feet

    While walking down each street

    Each nook and crany

    Becomes a part of

    You know who

    Those Sneaky Little Sneakers

    And whatnot too

    Take me anywhere

    You want me to.

  11. 21 Danielle March 6, 2012 at 4:26 pm

    I’m glad i was able to make you happy. 😉

    What was bringing you down Anyway?

    • 22 stranglingmymuse March 7, 2012 at 11:23 am

      I wasn’t down emotionally, just a little under the weather physically. Thanks again for making me smile!

      ~Sandy

  12. 23 Danielle March 8, 2012 at 8:08 pm

    Glad I was Able to Sandy, Thanks

    Have a wonderful rest of “International Woman’s Day”

    D. 🙂

  13. 24 Danielle March 8, 2012 at 8:14 pm

    Ah Women

    So what if they look like cutouts

    From an old fashion-worn magazine

    So what if they gab about the latest trends

    Or trends they haven’t seen

    Yet,

    Women all over the world

    This is your day,

    But sorry if this poem of truth

    Came a little too late

    Maybe if we realize

    We still have one night

    In the final hour, women everywhere

    At least do something right

    Write, pray, love, sing

    Give, hope, laugh, dream

    Remember

    This is International Women’s Day

    And if you have yet to celebrate this day

    Well…

    There’s Always tomorrow.

  14. 26 Danielle March 8, 2012 at 8:24 pm

    And last but not least…

    A Few Words

    I have a few words

    Before I Go

    It’s getting later by the second

    I know

    If you never had

    A epiphany

    Instantaneous and whimsical

    As the time may be

    Wait until

    Everyone’s asleep

    And write until you’re tired

    And wish for sleep

    Like an owl at night

    Stalking prey

    I’m never tired to write

    Anything Anyway

    I wonder why i write

    Very late at night

    While people sleep

    And owls hunt for mice

    Why talk about owls

    When you’re all asleep

    Like an audience in a daydream

    After a ridiculously long speech

    It’s Eleven thirty

    Thursday Night

    Time to end this poem

    And say “Goodnight”

    • 27 stranglingmymuse March 9, 2012 at 1:20 pm

      I love the feeling of writing late at night while the world’s asleep! Thanks for sharing this, Danielle.

      ~Sandy

  15. 28 Danielle March 23, 2012 at 3:44 pm

    A Sundae in the Life, No It’s Fridae

    10 AM

    WOKE UP GOT OFF MY DUFF TRAVELED TO THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART.

    My class was there, and we had a tour at some very religiously iconic galleries

    12PM

    TOUR’S OVER WE WERE DONE GOT OUTSIDE AND HAD SOME FUN

    Yes, Ice Cream included. What, a Sundae in the Life?

    3PM

    Ok u asked 4 it:

    RETURNED HOME WENT TO BED DRAGGED THE COVERS ACROSS MY HEAD.

    Didn’t want to sound beatlesque or anything but…

    What a day (in my life!)

  16. 30 leamuse May 12, 2012 at 7:13 am

    A spontaneous response:

    Thin, straight, not yet grey
    Invisibility cloak
    Blowing in the wind

    Bisous,
    Léa

    • 31 stranglingmymuse May 12, 2012 at 11:46 am

      Beautiful, Lea! I love the image of your hair as an invisibility cloak. I just realized this is the second lovely thing you’ve written and posted here about hair!

      ~Sandy

    • 32 Danielle May 22, 2012 at 4:01 am

      Just Saw “Scattering” On Your Blog. Loved It!!!!

      Also this poem above just screams “Haircut!” hahahaha

      But, seriously, great job on your poetry; keep up the good work.

      D.

  17. 33 leamuse May 12, 2012 at 12:03 pm

    Merci! It is also the second “spark” about hair since I began receiving your posts. Thanks for the idea.
    Léa

  18. 34 Danielle May 20, 2012 at 3:57 pm

    I asked myself a question
    I achieved towards anonymous gains
    Played along desert abysses
    No avail towards any means
    My abysmal senses are stagnant
    Rivers abounding in ash
    I at last tried achieving it
    Then afterwards fell and collapsed

    One apple each afternoon
    Stories always toxic
    Without an explanation for anything
    I at least attend to act it

    Never am i about reality
    About how apples become apples
    Then answers become assumptions

    How Am I Always being Attentive
    Questioning all that arises in angelic presences
    Adamant in anonymity
    Yet angsty towards aversions that adamantly condemn a certain abstraction
    Soullessly afraid to admit their accusations of anyone they admired and approved of

    Oh Another Day Another Example
    Anyone gained anything from assuming they’re all eventually assholes?

    • 35 stranglingmymuse May 21, 2012 at 3:02 pm

      Wow, every other word starting with an “A” — I’m impressed, Danielle! Thanks for sharing this!

      ~Sandy

  19. 36 leamuse June 8, 2012 at 1:33 am

    Here goes a rough draft for todays “Spark”! 🙂

    Pied fâchés

    Once again
    Came the argument
    First there were
    The whimpering
    Complaints
    But as always
    They grew louder
    You hate that
    I have imprisoned
    You
    In those heavy boots
    Thick socks
    As we walk
    The beautiful hills
    That surrounds us
    You don’t believe
    I do it to protect you
    From all the stones
    And other detritus
    You beg and plead
    For sandals
    Or total exposure
    As always
    I make sweet promises
    To coax you onward
    Afternoon
    in the hot sand
    Before your pardon
    Revival at
    Sea

    Bisous,

    Léa

    08/06/2012

  20. 39 leamuse June 15, 2012 at 12:39 am

    Here is a heads-up or should I say warning? My next post is dedicated to you and the inspiration you give so many. Hopefully it will send some new people your way. I invited my followers to come and play in your sandbox! 🙂 Perhaps you will stop by and check it out. Merci!
    Léa

  21. 41 Liz Gow December 5, 2012 at 8:59 pm

    The dragon is brightly coloured, reds, oranges, some green and blues. She looks fearsome but is not. All she knows is to be a dragon who breathes fire to survive. She lights fires to keep herself warm, for lighting and to cook food. She so wants to be free but is scared that others will be scared of her and try to hurt her. She is also scared that she will breathe fire and hurt others.
    She is desperate to be free and this actually happens. Initially she does not fit where she is and tries really hard and forgets that she is a dragon, she no longer knows how to be herself or to be like others around her. She breathes fire when it is not needed and does not when needed.
    One day she finds herself flying, aimlessly for hours. She needs to rest and stops not really caring where, does not know who is around, she rests and then notices that others around her are not exactly like her but similar, she starts to notice that there is so much diversity and realizes she now knows how to be herself.

  22. 43 Liz Gow December 18, 2012 at 3:48 pm

    The picture inside my mind about my dreams are a lovely ocean with dolphins diving, bursting through waves, ‘giggling’, and have fun whilst sharing it with others. Many thanks. Merry Christmas.

  23. 45 Liz Gow January 15, 2013 at 12:10 pm

    If I could bounce all the way up to the stars, I would just allow myself to experience the whole thing, to be absolutely present to the experience and fun of the bounce. I would giggle, laugh in wonder and joy. I would feel that being in the stars would be a perspective of what really matters and would be reminded that being here is energizing, mesmorizing, magical and connecting to something bigger than.

    • 46 stranglingmymuse January 16, 2013 at 3:08 pm

      I love the sense of being in the moment, finding perspective, and connecting with something larger that you’ve evoked here, Liz. Thanks for sharing this!

      ~Sandy

  24. 47 Talita January 15, 2013 at 5:51 pm

    If I could bounce all the way up to the stars I probably wouldn’t come back. Who would? All the magnificence and beauty, peace and quiet, space and time to read all of the books – the ones available in the eyes of someone yet to meet or found in my own heart: the books I am to live and write – would be mine. And I’d have all the infinite to myself.

    Could that be a little bit selfish? I suppose so, for the envious who could never imagine how to bounce their own way there, or not even to the nearest skies for they are constantly afraid of the blue – let alone the secrets of dark space and solitude – it would be, yes. But the beloved ones, the brave ones, the talented and wise and all those who have kept in their hearts the shine instead of only the dust from the original big bang can understand that it is only by getting through all the blues and darks that you can prove yourself worth a place among the brightest stars.

    • 48 stranglingmymuse January 16, 2013 at 3:11 pm

      What you’ve written is lovely, Talita. I was especially moved by “…it is only by getting through all the blues and darks that you can prove yourself worth a place among the brightest stars.” Thank you so much for sharing this!

      ~Sandy

  25. 51 Hannah Robinson February 1, 2013 at 1:15 am

    Apple poem!

    Crunchy Sweet,
    Good to eat.
    Red or Green,
    Glossy Sheen.

    Lunchbox raw
    I love to gnaw
    Or – my oh my!
    In a hot, fresh pie!

    I haven’t been able to do one of your Bursts for ages, it feels good to get stuck in again! Hope you’re well 🙂

    Hannah

    • 52 stranglingmymuse February 1, 2013 at 11:01 am

      Love it! Thanks so much for sharing what you’ve written, Hannah. And it’s good to see you here again!

      I’m well, and hope you’re well, too.

      ~Sandy

  26. 53 leamuse February 1, 2013 at 1:36 am

    Here is a quick rough draft to today’s prompt:

    La pomme

    Being the
    Brains in
    Le jardin
    Eve picked
    La pomme
    Hunger can
    Do that to a
    Woman
    Being that there
    Was no health care
    Available
    She took care of
    Herself
    Leaving
    Adam
    To his violent
    Abattage
    des oiseaux
    Cerf
    And all that was
    Wild and free
    Being a man
    He blames
    Eve
    Pourtant le
    Sang est sur
    Ses mains

    Bisous,

    Léa

  27. 56 Danielle February 4, 2013 at 4:47 am

    An Apple a Day Kept my Doctorate Away

    I chewed into this enormous mound of juicy flesh

    a forbidden fruit, you might say

    It kept my doctor from seeing the truth

    How such beauty could turn astray

    a rebound from any source of being

    a graduated cylinder, brave and bold

    i struggle with this blood red fruit

    While not trying to catch a cold

    My doctor was furious with me

    when he found out my fruity debate

    and it goes to show when i ate this apple

    It kept me from my doctorate

    Well, sure I am graduating

    with an associates degree no doubt

    With an apple bright reed as day

    And a head full of doubt

    What have i done

    What will my doctor say

    I may not ever get my doctorate

    With this apple in my way

    but soon my doctor will call me

    and soon we’ll talk face to face

    and i will shove the apple i still wanted to eat

    right down my throat in disgrace.

  28. 58 Danielle February 6, 2013 at 9:28 am

    You are most certainly welcome 😉

    Looking Forward towards the next one…

  29. 59 Danielle February 22, 2013 at 2:07 pm

    “Clockenspiel!”

    Time Waits Flower
    Minutes by Petals
    Meows are Music
    For Catty Clock Pendulums
    The Bomb Ticks
    And Sparks Explode

  30. 61 Danielle March 22, 2013 at 11:16 am

    What’s for Dinner? (And Why Don’t I Like Any of It!?)

    Freshly half- baked
    beans on a platter of ketchup and applesauce
    Anchovies and asparagus on the side.

    For Dessert:

    Nuts, Nuts and Dough nuts!
    0.0………………………………..

    : ‘ 0

    I’m Leaving Pronto!

    D.

  31. 63 leamuse April 30, 2013 at 1:24 am

    Here is a quick rough draft response to today’s spark:

    Bone speak

    Not yet
    Brittle
    Yet perhaps
    A bit of a rattle
    De temps en temps
    Where I have lain
    Broken
    In the past

    That speeding car
    Stopping in the back
    Of my own
    Fracturing C2
    The axis
    Of my revolving
    Kindly you didn’t
    Sever spinal connections

    So many years ago
    Even a scan doesn’t
    Find a trace of you
    Yet the coldest wind
    Tightens its grip
    Rappel de mon cou
    Of what might
    Have been

    The only evidence
    Lies buried beneath
    Long muddy brown locks
    Burr holes, for traction
    A puzzle for future
    Anthropologists

    Léa

  32. 66 leamuse April 30, 2013 at 11:00 pm

    Merci beaucoup! Now if I ever get around to “fixing it”, perhaps I can post it?

    • 67 stranglingmymuse May 1, 2013 at 12:09 pm

      I think it’s beautiful as it is — but if you “fix” it, I’d love to see the new version!

      ~Sandy

  33. 68 Danielle May 1, 2013 at 4:26 am

    Guess now it’s my turn eh…

    Bones

    A little rusty

    Rough around some edges

    Waiting to collapse

    Into past configurations

    But always stretching it’s limbs

    Towards newer fathoms…beyond its weathering heights

    Stopping every now and then

    To rest before reconfiguration

    Before becoming fragmented once again

    D.

  34. 71 Be-mused July 23, 2013 at 1:49 pm

    Oh new sweet puppy
    I cry for my last lost boy
    Gone too soon, too soon

  35. 74 Danielle July 23, 2013 at 3:35 pm

    Followed my muse
    Return sender to bookstore
    Got rejected too

    :,(

    D.

  36. 76 leamuse August 19, 2013 at 12:37 am

    L’ete

    Slowing down my mind
    Halt the eternal quest
    For tomorrow, next week
    Or a favorite holiday
    Even before summer’s
    Waning begins, the
    Yearning for it starts
    Anew

    Learning to delight in
    Nuances of each season
    Colours of gold, red, yellow
    Then brown splashs
    Across the vineyards the to
    Les abres
    Soups simmer once again
    A late squash-corn chowder,
    Black bean or hearty vegetable
    Avec pois chiche

    Le Printemps donne l’espoir
    Les fleurs,
    Vibrant green leaves
    Sur le vigne
    Life cycle
    Reaffirms herself
    Le cadeau de la mere nature

    Most difficult
    Pour moi
    Making peace
    Avec l’hiver
    Taking my breath away
    Lodging its chill
    Deep in my bones
    Even when sunlight bounces
    Across a rare snow
    Longing takes over
    Summer feels so far away

    Bisous,

    Léa

  37. 78 leamuse August 20, 2013 at 2:15 am

    Merci beaucoup Sandy! I am doing better and very busy. With two blogs, translating a new book of poems so it will be bi-lingual and a book in the works, there is a bit less time for exploring but c’est la vie!

  38. 80 leamuse September 20, 2013 at 3:23 am

    A rough draft that I just threw together and haven’t re-read so forgive the flaws…

    Ces mains

    These hands
    Often stuck
    With yardstick
    Brosse de cheveux
    Or any other
    Weapon of war

    Ces mains
    Learned that they
    Were best kept
    Out of the way
    Out of danger

    These hands
    Learned that
    Other hands needed
    Holding
    Frail hands
    Confused hands

    These hands
    Eagerly reaching out
    To those in want
    Or need
    Finding hands to hold
    Or guide

    These hands
    Never raised in
    Anger
    These hands
    Gentle
    Kind

    Ces mains
    Sont les
    Miennes

  39. 83 leamuse September 20, 2013 at 11:27 am

    BTW, as you may have figured out, the stuck in line two was suppose to be struck… 🙂

  40. 84 leamuse October 15, 2013 at 2:01 am

    I don’t know if this makes any sense as I have not read it through. Yet here is the first rough draft!

    Material Witness

    This is what I get
    For attempting to reduce
    The clutter in my life
    This red plastic tool-box
    Filled with long ignored
    Pencils, charcoal, pastels
    And other tricks of a trade

    They were so foreign to
    Moi
    Something I ached for
    Yet knew nothing about
    Flashbacks to childhood
    A half-sisters art supplies
    Tossed aside at the demands
    Of her fiancée

    Now these things
    Were in plain site
    Demanding attention
    To be dealt with
    To be used
    To skate across paper
    Or canvas

    All the negative decrees of a
    Lifetime want to be heard
    Demand their say
    Yet something deeper
    Wants more
    Dare I open the box
    Dare I see what will happen

    Learning to play
    With art or anything else
    Is more difficult as we age
    But if it is given the smallest chance
    It will prevail
    The evidence is all around
    Moi

    Bisous, Léa

  41. 86 leamuse November 5, 2013 at 1:21 am

    While I didn’t really get into the idea of a bio for my muse, I received a different image. She will be appearing on a “WANTED” poster! 🙂 Hey, it was her perception of your spark! LOL
    It may be awhile as my house is all torn up with repair men. Storm damage!

    • 87 stranglingmymuse November 5, 2013 at 5:51 pm

      I LOVE the idea of a “wanted” poster for your muse — so creative! I also love how muses have their own ideas about what we should do. Bravo to you for listening to her! Good luck with the storm damage repair…

      ~Sandy

  42. 88 Liz Gow February 8, 2014 at 11:09 am

    I loved the prompt about desire and adding wings, feet etc. My desire was to have continued peace in a busier time. I drew with non dominant hand 2 palm trees with a hammock in between and me laying on the hammock, relaxed with hands behind my head and each tree had a foot both facing the same way. So that whatever I do, where ever I go, I take peace with me. Love it. Thanks Sandy xx

    • 89 Anonymous February 8, 2014 at 12:15 pm

      Oh, I love this so much Liz! What a wonderful and creative way of visualizing taking peace with you wherever you go! I can see your picture in my mind’s eye. I may borrow your image myself when things are feeling hectic. Thanks so much for sharing this!

      ~Sandy

      • 90 stranglingmymuse February 8, 2014 at 12:25 pm

        The comment above IS from me, Liz. For some reason I showed up as Anonymous — maybe because I wrote it on my kindle.

        ~Sandy

  43. 91 leamuse April 25, 2014 at 2:55 am

    Once again, I am behind… C’est la vie! As you will quickly see, I don’t follow directions too well. 🙂 Here is a rough draft…

    Luscious

    First there is the amazing softness
    Her tantalizing flesh
    Speculating of the juicy sweetness
    I sing delirious odes to her freshness
    Ecstatic sensation tantalizing each tastebud
    Anticipation – you tease
    The perpetual conundrum
    Lusting after fruits
    Not yet in season

  44. 100 leamuse June 4, 2014 at 6:07 am

    There are days where even a good Creative Burst doesn’t happen. It is often external forces but they should not go to waste. Around here they don’t as I keep a list… Here is a rough draft.
    This is an oldie I stumbled upon:

    me laisse froid / me fait chaud

    snow looks beautiful
    in photographs
    but leaves goosebumps
    across my flesh
    icy winds
    i pull my scarf
    tighter around my neck
    seeking shelter
    et un café
    many would call you
    handsome
    your flashing eyes
    toothpaste grin
    pain and cruelty
    made my blood run cold

    transformation
    relocation
    life-force
    set free
    moves on
    moves away
    worlds away
    across the sea
    trading pain for joy
    finding home

    le soleil
    caressing my back
    chasing away the clouds
    a clear field for
    starlight tonight
    or
    summer thunderstorms
    breaking over our heads
    as we make love
    on his deck
    rough edges and kindness
    old fears melt at your touch
    passion aroused
    heat rising
    i got mine
    satisfaction

    Bisous,

    Léa

    • 101 stranglingmymuse June 5, 2014 at 4:13 pm

      Lovely, Léa! I always love your poetry. Thanks so much for sharing it here! And it’s great to go back and find old prompts or Creative Bursts — sometimes you’ll find just the inspiration you need at the moment you need it. I know that happens with me!

      ~Sandy

  45. 104 leamuse June 5, 2014 at 10:51 pm

    BTW, I made a small change but will save it for the chapbook I am working on.

  46. 107 leamuse July 22, 2014 at 2:39 am

    Here is a quick response to today’s Creative Burst. Remember, it is only a rough draft…

    The shape of my dream is…

    The only constant
    Change
    Dreaming is
    Catching mercury
    In my hands
    Hanging on to each
    Particle
    Dreams are
    Time
    Suspended on a vapor
    Fluid that rushes on
    Pretends to stand still
    Carrying me where
    I know not – Chagall-esque
    Silhouette of a dream
    Ever moving – cloudlike
    Le masque
    Summons to potential
    To sleep – perchance
    Another dimension
    Dreaming
    Carnaval de la vie

    Bisous,

    Léa

  47. 110 leamuse July 22, 2014 at 10:30 pm

    Thank you for that burst of inspiration! Léa

  48. 112 Candy watson October 14, 2014 at 9:10 am

    Mechanical parts in the body inspired the image of my hand shoveling food to my mouth where I quickly chewed and the chunks slid down the galvanized metal tube to the gears below where it churned and spewed and the toxic waste was then hammered in to rusty barrels…….kind of an insight to an unhealthy relationship with nourishing my body.

    • 113 stranglingmymuse October 14, 2014 at 3:20 pm

      Wow, that’s vivid! Very profound. I so appreciate your willingness to be vulnerable and share this, Candy. I can relate — I’ve been in that place before, too! If it feels right to you, I can imagine it being very powerful to do some journaling or art using this image. It’s such a creative depiction of your relationship with your body.

      ~Sandy

  49. 114 leamuse October 22, 2014 at 8:11 am

    Better late than never? Sorry but I’ve been away. Here’s the rough draft.

    Write a poem or a paragraph or two using some (or all) of these words and phrases:
    alien landscape, tourist, final, journey of the senses, flamingo, juicy, obsessed, mortality, hat, eating, unshakable, tremble, painting

    Alien landscape

    We are all tourists
    Some will be obsessed
    Driven to make the most
    Of each moment
    They fail to take pleasure
    In the nuances on offer
    Others will passively move
    From this reality to
    Whatever awaits?
    There are those who are
    Unshakable and move
    With grace and confidence
    Through the darkest of times
    Others claw their way
    From first breath to last
    To tremble at the touch of another
    Can be a most precious gift
    Painting the canvas of your life
    The colors are yours to choose
    Time passes all to quickly
    The years both kind and cruel
    Reflected in the shading
    Light and darkness in turn
    Mortality a heartbeat away

  50. 117 leamuse October 22, 2014 at 9:31 am

    Alien Landscape is now posted on http://poetryphotosandmusingsohmy.wordpress.com
    Thanks for the Creative Burst!

  51. 119 leamuse December 2, 2014 at 2:29 am

    I’m afraid the best I can do, rough draft, off the top of my head is a quick haiku…

    *

    Magical smart phone

    Only two apps I think
    Invisibility cloak
    And time traveling

  52. 124 Liz Gow December 13, 2014 at 3:36 pm

    Mary did you know – Pentatonix – just soothing me and my muse Thank you! 🙂 xx

  53. 126 Liz Gow February 24, 2015 at 9:55 am

    My shoes were very busy yesterday and got changed some into trainers. They were steady, still and calm when listening to students and purposefully marching to destinations to get things done. For a while they rested as the trainers took over and had a walk along the river. The shoes were ready for action and enjoyed meeting another pair of shoes to play with ideas and create something magical.

    Wow, I had not noticed my shoes and thinking of their perspective. Cool and interesting! Thanks. 🙂

    • 127 stranglingmymuse February 24, 2015 at 1:37 pm

      Great, Liz! It’s always interesting to look at things from a new perspective, isn’t it? Thanks for sharing this.

      ~Sandy

  54. 128 Liz Gow March 26, 2015 at 2:44 pm

    Comfy intention
    Leggings, top, heading for gym
    Comfy typing here!

  55. 130 Léa April 20, 2015 at 9:49 am

    Sandy, as you well know, mademoiselle muse has a mind of her own and I am a mere slave. While it isn’t what you asked for, it is a rough draft of what she would allow…

    irrational fear serenade

    you’ve heard the band
    before – too many
    times – rat-a-tat
    drumming in the night
    tears of violins
    high pitched whistle
    to the low roar
    of the flute
    fighting the battle for
    sleep’s deep release
    but echoes ensue
    Chopin dirges
    reverberating through
    night – denying hope
    of slumbers fragile
    release, escape
    where is my
    ride of the valkyries,
    ravel’s bolero
    my ode to
    joy?

    *
    Léa

    • 131 stranglingmymuse April 20, 2015 at 7:21 pm

      Oh, but this is exactly what I asked for! I’m happy you used my Creative Burst as a spark to light your muse’s fire. Lovely, lovely. Thanks for sharing another one of your beautiful poems, Léa!

      ~Sandy

  56. 132 Léa April 20, 2015 at 10:41 pm

    Thank you for the spark!

  57. 133 Léa June 5, 2016 at 10:26 pm

    ” It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” Henry David Thoreau

    Okay, so it was the burst about a week ago but my muse refuses to look at time as a serious concept. Rough draft here…

    mirror mirror

    like the acidic womb
    you were delivered from
    i’ve reiterated all your flaws
    humiliation feeding your soul
    feuling your tears
    breaking your heart

    no conscience bothered me
    so use to reflecting the environment
    deceptively, I reflect light
    while in truth, shallow, cold, judgemental
    shaming that tiny red face
    quivering chin
    eyes twin faucets of tears
    no beauty here

    believing my lies
    you sank deeper, inward
    hanging your head
    avoiding my glare, unaware
    lies, judgement come from ignorance
    my own blindness unquestioned

    you have learned
    to look deeper
    reading eyes and hearts
    as I could never do
    finding beauty that escapes me
    learning to see it in yourself
    confident a mirror cannot be
    believed on ‘face’ value

    bisous,

    léa


  1. 1 Introducing the Creative Bursts Sharing Area « Strangling My Muse Trackback on August 13, 2011 at 6:15 am

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Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coach and Writer.

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