Prompts: Love ‘em and hate ‘em.

Writing Prompts: I love ‘em and hate ‘em. I’m part of a women’s writing mentoring group through Write On Door County and our writing assignment this month is “touch”.

Every month we dive into one of the senses but for some reason, touch doesn’t resonate for me. All I have to do is capture a few words and phrases, but I’m struggling.

I dislike and like prompts and assignments. They’re constricting and can be stress producing. I’ve always been able to generate words, but at times, when responding to prompts, my writing won’t even make sense. Prompts I read to groups can also be inspiring and motivating. They require me to make my impromptu writing comprehendible. It’s obvious I’m avoiding the assignment. Don’t care. Like rules, prompts are meant to be challenged. Tangents are part of my process. Here goes.

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Touch is personal. I won’t have to share but enjoy my group so I want to. What we enjoy touching is different for everyone. I’m passionate, yes passionate, about dirt. Sinking my hands into dirt, discoloring my fingernails to a brownish-black earthy tone, and smelling (okay it’s not touch but it’s important to me) is a spiritual experience.

When it’s warm, dirt is consoling. When it’s cool, dirt is relaxing.

I make dirt. It’s alchemy. I stir in kitchen scraps, hay, straw, wood chips, leaves, you name it. If it’s plant based, I add it then wait 2-3 seasons . It’s better if it’s moldy, rotten, and smelly or potentially moldy. The results transforms me. Every spring I am rewarded with a renewed sense in the power of nature. It’s a work of art. I grab a handful of black, crumbly, earthy smelling compost, inhale, and thank mother nature.