Have you ever closed your eyes and then lightly pressed your palms against them? If you have, chances are you were tired or attempting to rub out a vicious headache.
As a child, I would do this on occasion as a way of glimpsing the odd contours that would develop there.
As a writer, I will sometimes do this as a way of collecting my thoughts and letting the shape-shifting blackness show me something new, something mystical and otherworldly.
Often, what is first reflected is simply the impression of light from a nearby window or lamp. But, if I am patient and wait a little longer, new figures will appear, glancing, skimming, zipping along some vacuous continuum that only I can see.
Of course, there is a physiological explanation for these images that lie behind our eyes. But, in this blackness, I call for scenes to mushroom before me or summon words to drift toward me. Sometimes, there is nothing and that nothingness is what calms and centers me when I return to my writing.
What kaleidoscope of images parade before you when you apply a light pressure to your eyelids when they are closed?
Do you see colors and shapes? Zooming lights? Drifting darkness? And how do these pictures bring you closer to a place of creativity in your narrative? Your poetry? Your memoir or screenplay?
Close your eyes today and see what mystic images materialize before you for more authentic, animated storytelling.
Kerri S. Mabee