I have a small apartment. When I say small, imagine a room the size of your lounge with a bathroom attached. That's it, this is where I live.
Small apartments don't allow the person that lives in them the luxury of collecting things - the mainstay of capitalism. Buy, buy, buy.
I like this because I actually don't like to have a lot of stuff. I don't like clutter. (Note: that doesn't mean my apartment is tidy). A lot of stuff is a lot of stuff you have to get rid of when you're travelling. So instead of buy, buy, buy - every few months you shed, shed, shed.
I'm currently spring cleaning notebooks. Compiling together ideas, getting rid of indecipherable scribblings and post-its I can't read or that no longer have relevance.
One of my notebooks was a designated "writing exercise" notebook. The exercise was, choose three words at random (from this box which you can buy here) and write them into a super short story.
Here are the ones I thought worth recording somewhere before throwing out the notebook...
1. The King had become so enamored with his own image that he ordered his bust be embossed not just on all coins, notes and royal stationary, but on all children's kites as well. So, when they looked up, they would see his face in the heavens and remember, he was a King ordained by God.
(Words: King, kite, God)
2. He was a strange lad they said. A strange lad indeed. An interior designer by trade, but his current fixation with the hue of nude severely limited his client base. Before, his inbox had been jammed with requests for his expertise, now, it was christened only by lottery scams and automated newsletters for products he didn't own. But, he was not worried. Like all things, history would repeat itself, fashion was circular. He bided his time. Nude would have it's day.
(Words: lad, nude, time)
3. Show me hell. I'll show you a bee pollinating with poison: ruined roses, pathological pansies, deformed daises.
(Words: show, hell, bee)
4. In the time it had taken to pop off for a quick slash, the sun had decided to dip below the horizon. It was dark and Don had forgotten his torch. The only way he could now find his way back to the tent was to follow the irritating, tone deaf hum of his third wife Belinda
(Words: hum, torch, tent)
5. In Cydian mythology, each human soul is thought to reside in the heart of a 100-year rose. Evidence of this garden of "stone roses" has never been found but scientists suggest certain volcanic or geo-thermal activity could have resulted in phenomena, giving flora and fauna a rigid appearance - much like what occurred half-way around the world in Pompeii at the time.
(Words: rose, soul, time).
6. The furry-tipped spay is a tiny Scottish bat that likes to live in small dark places. In 2003, it was recorded that a mischievous colony of splays, that had been evicted from a recently demolished council flat, had taken up residence in the hide bags of the Royal Dragoon's bagpipes.
(Words: furry, bat, flat)
Creating Character Quirks...
in which I found a collection of weird sketches of characters I made up...
1. Soshanna always matched her nail varnish to the color of her boyfriend's credit card, so whenever he saw it in her hands, it was if she was made to spend his money.
2. Basalt always pulled his belt in one notch too tight. It was uncomfortable, and after a big meal, even painful, but this was his punishment. A physical reminder of losing something important to him, so he could never forget and never let it happen again.
Various ramblings from characters I have yet to write into anything...
"I only miss you as much as I allow myself to"
"I miss my imagined version of you"
Crown image from:
Nails image from: