There are lots of doors. Writing is a door. Art is a door. One of the facets of creative work that has always fascinated me most is the ability to inspire creation. When you see really compelling artwork, you don’t just see a 2D image–you see a story–and that is the beginning of your own journey.
It’s one of those days. A phone call (or none). A letter. A cloud over the tree. Wallie the Imp and I are not our usual cheerful selves. And as usual, when no spoken word can work out the knots in a melancholy mood, the written word sometimes comes through just right. It’s time for contemplation, an apocalypse, a woman not of this world and a man who very much is. It’s time for a little low music.
Wallie the Imp likes to read. In Impland, Imps admire books for their practical usefulness: you can read them, write in them, and chew on them. Wallie tells me that nothing tastes better than a nicely yellowed paperback.
Wallie likes Imps. Wallie is an Imp. Perhaps that’s his trouble.
When Wallie heard about the Daily Prompt from the Daily Post—writing nonstop without thinking for ten minutes—he was naturally very excited. He thinks he is a better writer than he is and is always eager to show off.
The problem is, he only writes in Impish.