<\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\nProvide differing perspectives on the same thing or event to create ambiguity.<\/strong> [cf. The Haunted Mind, Note 3, offers alternate PoVs: Is the sound of the bell from the dream or the world? Is the author is in the space of the dream or are the dream figments in the bedroom?<\/em>]<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/span>MINOR KEY INTERLUDE: Dark detour<\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\nA train of thought or conversation that moves into a minor \u2013 dark, distressing, dismal \u2013 mode, and then moves back out of it; attend to the inflection points.<\/strong>
[cf. The Haunted Mind, Notes 6 & 7, where hypnagogic state turns dark when being swaddled in bedclothes evokes a shrouded corpse, but then attention to everyday objects vitiates that line of thought<\/em>].<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/span>ANIMATED TRAJECTORY: Camera-zoom through space<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\nConvey the strucutre of an object or environment by providing sensory accompanyment (sight, sound, touch) as the viewer is moves through it. <\/strong>
[cf. The Acorn-Gatherer, Note 2, on the rooks moving about in the tree, flying from banch to branch, dropping acorns that bounce, etc. <\/em>Or cf. Helen Macdonald, no note: Taut spiderwebs snapping as one walks along a dark forest path<\/em>]. Also see Bird's Eye<\/code>, below.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/span>VIVID INJECTION: Author <\/strong>experiences scene climax<\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUse particularity and layering of detail to make a scene more tangible, and then inject the narrator into the scene, describing themselves in the act of seeing and feeling. [cf. The Clergyman (Beerbohm)<\/em>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\u201cI see the curate\u2019s frame quiver with sudden impulse, and his mouth fly open, and \u2014 no, I can\u2019t bear it, I shut my eyes and ears. But audible, even so, is something shrill, followed by something thunderous.\u2028\u00a0 Presently I re-open my eyes. The crimson has not yet faded from the young face yonder, and slowly down either cheek falls a glistening tear.\u201d
\u2013 Sir Max Beerbohm, A Clergyman, 1918<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>INTIMACY ZOOM: Distant to intimate in describing Ix<\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\nZoom in on an interaction: begin with a view from a distance (e.g. glimpses from far away), and then zoom in to show the fine-structure of close up or intimate interaction (e.g. continuous eye-contact). <\/strong>[cf. Insouciance, D. H. Lawrence<\/em>].<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n<\/span>Other Exericses (From “Phrases”, March 2023)<\/span><\/h2>\n\n\n\n<\/span>BIRD’s EYE:\u00a0\u00a0Description zoomed way in or way out<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- The road lifts and falls, on and off, ramps rise and meet in midair; smooth sculptural ribbons of road plaiting briefly then peeling away.\u201d [5] <\/li>\n\n\n\n
- I\u2019d grown up inside vectors, lines and lines athwart lines, grids \u2013 and, on the scale of horizons, broad curving lines of geographic force, the weird topographical drain-swirl of a whole lot of ice-ironed land that sits and spins atop plates. [7]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- \u201cSeen from the further end of the Moorish bridge by the Calahorra, where the road starts to Seville, Cordova is a long brown line between the red river and the purple hills, an irregular, ruinous line, following the windings of the river, and rising up to the yellow battlements and great middle bulk of the Cathedral.\u201d\u2013 Arthur Symons, Cordova, 1898<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
\n\u201cFor sixty miles the road plods on through this monotony and then it falls over a precipice. Suddenly it crosses the lip of the high plateau and tumbles helter-skelter, lickety-split into a chasm: and as you slither down the horse-shoe bends you see in the ravine below you, secreted in a fold of the massif, the city of La Paz.\u201d\u2014 Jan Morris, La Paz, 1963<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
\ufeff<\/p><\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>TIME-LAPSE: Process is sped up (or slowed way down)<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- the continents crumple, throwing the land skyward under its own momentum [9]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- wandering fingers of green crept up the meanderings of river systems, and fringed the gravels of forgotten lakes. [6]<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>EMBODIED PERSPECTIVE: POV from author’s body <\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- The sky wheeled over me, Loren Eisley<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>MYSTIC GLIMPSE: Invoking a vision of the imaginary <\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- Here and there through the swirling vapor one catches a glimpse of a shambling figure, or a half-wild primordial face stares back at one from some momentary opening in the fog.[6] <\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
\n\u201cIt was if someone had taken tiny bead of pure life and decking it as lightly as possible with down and feathers, had set it dancing and zigzagging to show us the true nature of life. Thus displayed one could not get over the strangeness of it.\u201d\u2014 Virginia Woolf , The Death of the Moth,\u201d 1925<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>APT-but-ODD: unusual similes and metaphors<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- visible silence, still as the hourglass,<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- the endless murmurings and stirrings [of the forest], like the noises of a convalescent ward.<\/mark> [3]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- wings pressed tight together like hands in prayer<\/mark>\u2026 [5]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- a knuckled red fist rises from a soft green landscape\u2026 [5] <\/li>\n\n\n\n
- a stream cuts a torn-paper precipice<\/mark> in a sandy bank [9]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- they tesselate into a helix [9]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- Long after death, incorporated into the bedrock, their combined and dappled chemical shadows will remain. [9]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- the water forks over the flat, a tree drawn in black on white canvas [9]<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>PATTERN-DESCRIBES-PROCESS: Describe motion via its result<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- short willows write wordless calligraphy on the wind [9] <\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>PROCESS-DESCRIBES-THING: Describe something via a description of how it came to be, either literally or metaphorically<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- the continents crumple, throwing the land skyward<\/mark> under its own momentum [9]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- wandering fingers of green crept up the meanderings of river systems, and fringed the gravels of forgotten lakes [6]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- The western clouds divided and subdivided themselves into pink flakes [11] <\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n
<\/span>BLENDED-&-EXTENDED: Mixed & recurring figures<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n- but beneath the ice running water made dark droplets, like little tadpoles racing downslope, playing tag, catching each other in continuous playful arabesques [2] <\/li>\n\n\n\n
- Some lands are flat and grass-covered, and smile so evenly up at the sun that they seem forever youthful, untouched by man or time. Some are torn, ravaged and convulsed like the features of profane old age. Rocks are wrenched up and exposed to view; black pits receive the sun but give back no light. [6] <\/li>\n\n\n\n
- Thin vapors, rust, wet tar and sun are an alembic remarkably like the mind; they throw off odorous shadows that threaten to take real shape when no one is looking. [6]<\/li>\n\n\n\n
- \u2026lie there listening to the peculiarly clear, articulated noises of the forest at night, the sighs and fidgets of wind and leaves, the weary groan of boughs, the endless murmurings and stirrings, like the noises of a convalescent ward. [3]<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n