So, writing: yes. The 365 writing prompts: not quite.
Be back soon.
So, writing: yes. The 365 writing prompts: not quite.
Be back soon.
Write about a rocket-ship on it’s way to the moon or a distant galaxy far, far, away.
When I think about space travel, I think about Carl Sagan’s pale blue dot. I think about how small we are in the grand scheme of things–an indistinguishable speck in our galaxy, which is an indistinguishable speck in the universe.
This thought can be both terrifying and reassuring. It’s terrifying to imagine us hurtling through space, one of countless insignificant specks doing the same thing. But we’re also part of something. We’re made up of the same simple molecules that everything else is. And as insane and hectic as the world can be, it won’t last forever. But we get to be part of it now and that’s a beautiful thing.
Aside: in an alternate universe, I really like biology and I’m a space nutritionist.
I’m not going to get to my writing prompt today. I have been looking out for more professional writing opportunities and a time sensitive one landed in my lap this afternoon. I’ll catch ya’ll tomorrow!
Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.
Last weekend, when I cosplayed Eleven from “Stranger Things,” I walked into a neighborhood 7-11 (there are two) and bought a Coke for my costume. Fake congealed blood gel appeared to drip out of my nose. As I pulled out my money and the cashier whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, no-this is just a costume,” I replied. She looked skeptical but handed me my change. “Have a good one!” I said.
Totally didn’t blog today because I was obsessed with cross stitching.
What’s for breakfast? Dinner? Lunch? Or maybe you could write a poem about that time you met a friend at a cafe.
[My world revolves around food so this prompt isn’t too painful. In this post, I’ll talk about food deserts, nutrition, eating disorders and disordered eating, and maybe what I had for lunch.]
I am a graduate student in a nutrition program, completing a food policy practicum. For the last few years, I’ve studied nutrition in school. Prior to that, I did a major life/diet overhaul that included de-conversion from Christianity and a fairly restricted diet (not recommended unless medically necessary) and spent a lot of time obsessed with what I was going to put in my mouth. I struggled with an eating disorder in Bible College (but who hasn’t?) and remember that the first time I thought about dieting, I was about 5 years old. Disordered eating was the norm for most of my life.
As you probably know, if you’re reading this, I also started a food blog (welcome!) a few years back to share about my experiences eating a restricted diet. And as you may know, this blog is rediscovering its identity! And more importantly, I’m also in grad school! Hence, the periods of absence followed by my recent short posts in response to writing prompts.
Back to food. Or is it about food? A lot of my mental health struggles presented in my obsessive food behaviors. Getting good mental health care has made a huge difference in my ability to regulate my intake and build regular exercise and movement that I enjoy into my days on the planet. All in all, food doesn’t take up the same mental space it used to. This allows me to focus on the study and policy of…food.
I started working in June with a food policy group nestled in the city government. We look at how to leverage legislation to promote affordable food across Baltimore City. Roughly 25% of residents live in food deserts, areas where it’s hard to get fresh, affordable food. Through strategic planning and collaboration, we work to make it easier for folks to get healthy food for their families.
My food experience (and life) has been privileged. I’ve had enough to eat. I’ve had access to education and healthcare. This isn’t the same for most of the world’s population and certainly not of many of Baltimore City’s residents. Many of Baltimore’s residents, primarily people of color, have been systematically screwed over for generations. It’s worth it to me to work on improving that system with the hopes of healthy, affordable food for all.
Who’s dancing and why are they tapping those toes?
Last weekend at the Baltimore ComicCon, I ended up walking to a comic vendor with the very tall boyfriend of an artist who did a variant cover of this great comic series: Faith. (Also see this article on how Faith is a groundbreaking hero.) Anyway, so I am walking across artist alley with this guy, let’s call him Ted, and he starts to tell me about how he and the comic artist got together. The were roommates first and had time and space to navigate daily life for a year before realizing they were in “madly in love” (Ted’s words). Their dogs got along, their cats got along, and they already learned the kitchen dance.
The kitchen dance: the rhythmic daily kitchen space-sharing known to roommates everywhere. In our house, our kitchen dance is sleepy in the mornings while we pour our bowls of cereal and our mugs of coffee. (One morning, I poured my coffee into my bowl of cereal. Coffee flavored frosted mini wheats are about as good as they sound.) Scott and I usually eat lunch separately but we do dinner together more nights than not. I know this will be hard to believe, but I am generally The One Who Cooks in our house. Scott does some sous chef work, cooking and meal preparation but I’m the primary food person. Sometimes we’re bumping into each other and and remembering to over-communicate about whatever we’re doing. Sometimes one of us provides moral support and company to the other while they lead the charge. One of my personal favorites is when I am chopping something and Scott rubs my neck and reads me articles from the Onion.
My Aunt Lois and Uncle Aaron are great people overall and really great people to share kitchen space with because they do the kitchen dance so damn well. (They also make amazing food.) When Scott and I visit, our time often centers around what, when, and how we will cook whatever is delicious and fresh from the market. The veggie-centered dishes are never bland or boring. And while we enjoy washing, chopping, cooking and eating, we share stories and create memories. And I think that is the goal of the kitchen dance – to create and connect while we nourish our bodies and nurture bonds.
Write about a ship or other vehicle that can take you somewhere different from where you are now.
The only vessel I need
Are the little feet
Which will take me to bed.
How do you feel when you love someone who does not love you back?
An ode to my favorite webcomic.
You wouldn’t recognize me
If you saw me on the street.
But I would know your asymmetrical hair,
Your hard-to-find clothes,
Your charming pet snake.
Your art is in my home and my heart.
The lines your draw amaze me.
The boxy broads,
The monster claws,
Those kitten paws.
I believed in you before your
What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?
Baltimore was supposed to suffer the wrath of Hurricane Hermine. Instead of torrential rain, though, we have perfectly blue skies. Is there a word for the abandoned space where you planned and braced for bad news, but nothing came?