Imagine a desert, and then a cube in this desert. Describe the cube. Then describe the ladder that you see. Imagine a horse, then flowers. A storm commences. Describe everything as you go. How do all these things relate to or affect one other?
This was the first creative writing exercise in my creative writing class (the professor said it was based on an ancient, Middle Eastern philosophy, that reveals your inner self). More in-depth analysis can be found at the link below:
Here was my attempt:
The desert is like scorched earth—dry, desolate, with nary an oasis in sight. It’s like the life has been drained from it—evaporated in the air that doesn’t move, but is dead, like a radio gone silent. It’s as if Mother Earth has been stripped of all her beauty…and flesh and blood.
In the center of this desert is a most curious thing. It is almost clear, but not quite—a sort of milky pearl, except it is a square, like a lump of sugar. It glistens under the hot sun, and there is a tiny puddle underneath it.
Adjacent to it is a ladder with 12 rungs, lying on its side. Like a hologram, or a mirage, I move, and it is no longer visible. As I move nearer, the cube becomes smaller, until I step on what I assume to be the bottom rung; it is only then I realize that I had to take the first step to be able to reach the oasis. I had to acknowledge that I had a problem—this was the first step to sobriety, but that oasis was getting smaller the longer I waited.
I take the 12 steps and reach down to kiss the ice cube as if it is the Pope’s ring.
Twelve months have passed, and I look up to see this strange animal—a unicorn. It is the only living thing besides the cactuses. The unicorn is rainbow-colored, her tail reminiscent of Rainbow Brite—a favorite of my childhood. Her horn is silver, and, upon closer inspection, I see it is a compass. I pet the unicorn I have named Lavender, for she appeared in the twilight of my life. I mount her, for there is a storm coming. There is darkness ahead, but I know I can pass through life’s hurricanes if I just use the compass and carry on to wherever Lavender takes me. I hold onto the horn and we pass through the storm. When the clouds are behind us, I realize we have crossed over, for I see the Rose of Sharon—a single white rose—and Lavender stops, and asks, “Will you accept this rose?”
I answer, “I will”, and then I reach my eternal destination.
What each story element represents:
Horse=lover, ideal lover
Flowers=things you nurture or create
What each story element (I surmised) represented to me:
Desert: Hell on Earth, known as Pensacola (my surroundings)
Ladder: My friends are my 12 steps
Horse: At the end was my true love, leading me away/saving me from a life of drunkenness
Flowers: I nurtured my faith, and my faith did not fail me; because of it, I shifted focus to the Living Water, not old wine