Assignment for my creative writing class, see this post for context!

Day 3, 9/25/19
Daily writing prompt: "Observe in words"

Assignment: 
Observation notebook (ideally daily) - this journal is a place to write down concrete things: images (things you see), lines and other sounds overheard, smells you notice, sounds, tactile sensations (what you feel), not abstractions (even if the concrete things you write down hold abstract feelings for you). You don't need to know why these observations matter, or even if they matter. It's a scrapbook for sensory observations. A sensory catch-all. Why? Well, we observe the world through our senses. And when we write, we communicate our experience of the world by finding the words to convey those sensory experiences. Also, the things you notice and find the words for probably are things that bring out feelings in you. There's a reason you notice them, even if you may not realize that reason when you notice them. In these notebooks, you will learn to observe in language. Later, when you’re looking for things to write about, I will invite you to mine these notebooks. They should be absolutely full of things that you can use .

What I did:

  • Woke up, stared at my phone
  • Made tea and muesli for breakfast
  • Vacuumed and cleaned the house
  • Practiced dance routine
  • Ate lunch
  • Walked to bus stop, hopped on the bus
  • Took BART to the city
  • Walked from Embarcadero to meet my friend Angela
  • Took 38R together to Japan Town
  • Scrub and oil massage at Korean Spa
  • Udon dinner

What I saw:

  • A tiny bright yellow bird hopping through the branches of the tree outside my kitchen window.
  • A very stout pit bull with adorable wrinkles adorning his flanks.
  • The kind and smiling face of the Korean Ajumma gazing directly at me as she very lovingly and gently dried my face, asking me if I am ok.
  • A startlingly gorgeous gradient sky over Japantown, deep violet blending into a rose pink blending into saffron orange.

What I heard:

  • HOA landscapers raking the leaves outside, the steady scratch against the concrete.
  • Birds chirping and trucks braking as they navigate down the narrow street.
  • Lively conversations in spanish under the window.
  • Buckets of water being thrown, one after another.
  • Multiple hairdryers blowing a cacophony of hot air.
  • A comforting undercurrent of Korean grandmas chattering away.

What I smelled:

  • The morning breeze tinged with the scent of diesel fuel and exhaust.
  • The grape scented aloe gel that was smeared all over my face.
  • The acrid scent of San Francisco’s financial district on an unnaturally warm day: a mix of hot asphalt, shit and piss, food carts, perfume, sweat-soaked synthetic fibers, and entitlement.