CREATIVE WRITING CLUB



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The Writers Club held their first meeting in the Saatchi Gallery Education Room in November 2009 and their 11 yr old members responded to the works that they had seen in exhibition at the gallery.



NINE BY GUERRA DE LA PAZ



Mari

I saw this pile of old clothes. It looked like a big, charity shop heap. I was about to walk on by when I noticed the boots. Pointed, black and white, old fashioned, unfashionable boots.

My eyes followed an upward trajectory. There were (gasp) legs in them.

"How long have they been there?" a child's voice asked.

And suddenly, I saw the whole person underneath the old pile. She was sixty years old with long, wavy, grey hair. Her face was wrinkled but kindly and the lines on her skin suggested a life wildly and well led. And then those boots made sense. She had worn them to express herself, to make a statement about who she was. She was unafraid and unusual. She was spiky and not to be messed with but she had a unique style, a sense of outrageous fun.

As I looked beyond the black and white boots, I saw there were more shoes and eight more lives passed my mind's eye.

Daisy

When I saw this big rail of cloth I did not know what to say really. I thought it was all going to jump out on me. I looked under just in case they were really people or not. I wish I was one of them. I would follow someone in the gallery.



THE WATCHMAN AND TWO SENTINELS BY RYAN JOHNSON



Mari

I found these figures unsettling. The biggest one, with graffiti all over him, unnerved me because of his size. Or was it his lack of a face that caused my unease?

The writing on the plaster actually brought a smile to my face. It reminded me of the time I broke my arm in the snow when I was ten years old. All my friends wanted to scribble something on my cast, just like his body had been scribbled on.

The figures brought other memories too, of lost explorers, Scott of the Antarctic, a bold strong man now trapped, now lifeless.



UNTITLED (SPIRAL STAIRCASE) BY PETER COFFIN

Iona

It was like a spiral staircase twisted by the strongest man or a giant. It must have taken forever to make. It made me want to climb it. It was amazing the shape of the stairs winding up and down. It was amazing how it did not fall over without any wires. My comment is that it was very unusual and funny. My suggestion is that it is painted in a brighter colour.

Georgia

As I stared at this wonderful piece of art, I felt strange. I blinked every second or two. I felt like I was spinning round in an everlasting circle. Every time I opened my eyes from that last blink of mine, I saw a spiral staircase staring back at me in its big round figure.

It was held on the ground securely with weights on the bottom, but still it felt insecure, like the sun crashing down onto me. Even if this had given the same feeling to someone else, it seemed like no one could have that same emotion as me. I just stood there quietly.



If you have any creative writing about works at the gallery that you would like to submit, please send it to education@saatchigallery.com and we may put it up on this page.