Pick a song you’ve been listening to a lot lately and listen to it again (for me, that song is Happiness by Elliott Smith).
Write/paint/sculpt/make art while it plays, using the song as a prompt.
Flash fictiony thing I wrote in response:
I see him walking up the callous mountain, and I feel a little small. He is wearing Keds, with holes where the sole should join the fabric. His toes poke out. The wind ruffles his hair; I think I see him smiling at the sun rising above the Rockies. Behind me, the house is quiet and drained – Andy and Shane sleep on couch, top-to-tail, in matching t-shirts that say ‘I Heart Xanax’, in the ‘I Heart NY’ style. Shane’s arm is sprawled across the makeshift table (wooden log underneath, piece of cardboard as the top), with a burnt out Parliament between his fingers, leaning towards the ashtray, like a sunflower towards the sun. I sit in a swinging chair on the porch, cradling a cup of Earl Grey like a premature child. The world in front of me is unfolding slowly, calmly – sun peaks out over the mountains; its streaks get in my eyes like loose strands of hair. Behind me, the people sleep through the aftermath of unhealthy decisions, sleep away the glaze, just sleep.