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Invisible Ink: Looking Back
Editor’s Note: Alex is our Studio Intern who is a senior at BYU majoring in print journalism. She is working on a series about unearthing unusual methods of relieving writer’s block and putting her findings to the test.
Looking back to a very specific memory of one of my early encounters with the dreaded block reminded me that sometimes sitting still is what shakes you free from it’s frustrating grip.
After being asked to write a poetry assignment to summarize my life thus far, I asked my teacher where I should begin. At the ripe age of 11 I believed that I had already developed into a fairly complex character and trying to condense that into a few stanzas seemed ridiculous. My teacher responded, “Begin by accessing your earliest memory.”
It took me a while to try to put some of those earliest memories in any sort of chronological order, but one flash back kept crossing my mind:
There is a spot at Disneyland, next to the spinning tea cups, with a small round pink door with the words “W Rabbit” engraved on a gold plate. I remember going back to that same door and taking a picture every year. At first it was always by myself, but later it became a family affair with my siblings joining in on the fun. I can recall feeling like the White Rabbit’s door was the perfect size for me and one day I would have a door just like that.
As the years passed, I noticed the door felt smaller and smaller. As it shrank in my eyes it held less intrigue and mystique to me. I thought back to a few months earlier, after a recent growth spurt, I could barely fit my 11-year-old awkward and gangly body on the front step.
My dramatic and nostalgic self decided to write on the subject of out-growing a childhood fantasy. And yes, to write something like this now may come across melodramatic, but at the time the realization that I was growing up was a Judy Blume-size awaking.
I would suggest finding a peaceful place to reflect, listen to an old song that may trigger past memories or go into whatever environment that will lend itself to deep pondering. Once you grab hold of a memory, remember how it made youfeel (lonely, happy, frustrated, embarrassed). In my experience, feeling nostalgic and really examining those past emotions has helped me put my mind into perspective, usually breathing in new life to my writing or way of thinking.
Looking back to a very specific memory of one of my early encounters with the dreaded block reminded me that sometimes sitting still is what shakes you free from it’s frustrating grip.
After being asked to write a poetry assignment to summarize my life thus far, I asked my teacher where I should begin. At the ripe age of 11 I believed that I had already developed into a fairly complex character and trying to condense that into a few stanzas seemed ridiculous. My teacher responded, “Begin by accessing your earliest memory.”
It took me a while to try to put some of those earliest memories in any sort of chronological order, but one flash back kept crossing my mind:
There is a spot at Disneyland, next to the spinning tea cups, with a small round pink door with the words “W Rabbit” engraved on a gold plate. I remember going back to that same door and taking a picture every year. At first it was always by myself, but later it became a family affair with my siblings joining in on the fun. I can recall feeling like the White Rabbit’s door was the perfect size for me and one day I would have a door just like that.
As the years passed, I noticed the door felt smaller and smaller. As it shrank in my eyes it held less intrigue and mystique to me. I thought back to a few months earlier, after a recent growth spurt, I could barely fit my 11-year-old awkward and gangly body on the front step.
My dramatic and nostalgic self decided to write on the subject of out-growing a childhood fantasy. And yes, to write something like this now may come across melodramatic, but at the time the realization that I was growing up was a Judy Blume-size awaking.
I would suggest finding a peaceful place to reflect, listen to an old song that may trigger past memories or go into whatever environment that will lend itself to deep pondering. Once you grab hold of a memory, remember how it made youfeel (lonely, happy, frustrated, embarrassed). In my experience, feeling nostalgic and really examining those past emotions has helped me put my mind into perspective, usually breathing in new life to my writing or way of thinking.
Will Conley
Feb 9, 7:34 PM
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JenniferJ9
Feb 20, 10:30 AM
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