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Barebottle Pop-up

This last-minute pop-up gathered a small but mightily creative and connected crew, including newcomers and long-timers alike. Thanks again to Darcy and her company Hail the Snail Mail for the inspiration to end the night by writing greeting cards so we could share a story with others via post!

Recently we've had fun co-creating short stories at our events. The rules are simple (and if you know me, meant to be broken). The event is divided into groups (size is variable based on how many people are participating) and each person gets their own paper. An open-ended prompt is given (or not) and everyone simultaneously writes a sentence, then passes their paper to the person next to them (passing in the same direction). The objective isn't to be ponderous and impressive but rather to move swiftly and freely allowing the words to flow. Participants try to move quickly with less thinking and planning and more spontaneous writing. Ideally, people are only reading the previous sentence, and writing a quick next step in the story. They keep doing this writing and passing for as long as time permits. Here's a glimpse of our quick three-person-group-co-creations:

A cowboy had a very large horse and they rode in the mountains. Small streams crossed their paths filled with dancing brook trout. He mopped his brow with a weathered bandana, shared his water bladder with the mighty stallion, and honored him with a giant carrot.
The one-legged unicyclist longed to be a novelist. He bought a used typewriter, the texture was very rough, and the color was bluish-gray. It was obviously painful to strike the keys and instead, he opted to record his stories as he slept with the help of the Vision-O-Rama recorder.
Upon entering the meadows, it was the small grey rabbit that crossed my path. I took a look and it hopped away into the edges of the forest. I followed slowly with trepidation. The rich scents and cool breeze soothing me as I gingerly stepped through the mossy overgrowth, attuned to the tiny rabbit's movements. I wanted to see it again so badly. I finally got to see its soft nibbling right in front of me.
The small Fox had chickenpox. The chicken pox was round. Interesting thing, the circular shape of a virus. She said she was itching, the fox and the pox were hungry for lox. Salmon lox on everything bagels with avocado, and a dusting of cucumber. Poppy seeds. Gosh, I must be hungry. Suddenly, I have the menu planned for my next gathering, which I must now also plan.
The ups scrambled my downs, and suddenly I found myself inside out. but sure, it won't matter. set it free, set it free. Freedom. There is nothing like the taste of freedom except for the taste of you. Or maybe mushrooms.
The Matrix was one of the defining films of the century. But I missed it because of the murder. Time still warped and had me questioning reality. And immediately I was sucked into the vortex. Not a bad place to be. I loved the action. I still can't tell what's real.
The morning came too soon kissing the dreams to bed. I felt the warm embrace of her caress but then the rain started and the roof caved in. Thank God I'm stuck with her. Being stuck smells of paradox.

Looking for an open-hearted, welcoming, creative community that connects through story-sharing? Join us at one of our upcoming events.


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