Inspired Pupils’ Creative Writing

Nicolas Poussin, A Dance to the Music of Time, (1594 - 1665)

The works of art at the Wallace Collection have inspired many pupils since the Creative Writing workshops began in 2008. Here are some examples of their work.

In response to Poussin’s A Dance to the Music of Time, (1594 - 1665). Find out more about this painting on the Wallace Collection’s online resource Wallace Live

John Aiyenuro - Ashcroft Academy

“Summer: Oi winter man your hands are freezing bruv
Winter: Fam u fink I don’t know that I’m WINTER
Summer: don’t you get rude. I’m holding springs hand who is doped with the essence of life and your hands which r freezing. AND IM SUMMER
Winter: Don’t get rude either bruv. There I am dancing for forever and a day with my feet feeling like their about to burn and all you can thing about r my freezing hands?
Summer: u think only your feet r hurting. Raise your hands if your feet are aching
Winter: we can’t u idiot we have to hold hands and spin forever
Summer: O yeah, but that lucky old foot gets to sit down and play that instrument
Winter: Alie dats is annoying and everything he just dere butt naked wiv his thing hangin out
Summer: The guy needs to put on some clothes I don’t care y he’s the father of time of father of the sky we have a right to not see that
Winter: but don’t get me started on those stupid babies and how their on about make the most of life. How gonna do dat when were in a circle spinnin round 4 the rest of our lives
Summer: True dat true dat”

Tracey Achonwa - Ashcroft Academy

“The blistering heat would have scorched my skin if I were a mere mortal. I had been dragged down here, to the underbelly of the world, my bedclothes still hailing behind me as Hades strode determinedly to what seems to be his quarter. What he was to do there, I did know, or wont do for that matter, but as I glowered at him I knew them that what I was for him indescribable was all I would ever feel for him, nothing more, nothing less. My legs were reluctant as I traipsed behind him to where he was backing me, a shadow of my self. My eyes saw things they should never have seen, the images scorching my mind like the heat had. I had been nothing short of clarifying since my capture, but what petrified me now was the ice coldness that I felt amidst the unbearable heat. As the lust seeped from his dark soulless eyes it was all I could do not to throw myself into flames where after tormented souls like mine Dion led the flickering flames. I wished I were a mere mortal. They had been laughing at the immured thoughts of a mortal they were observing but winter and summer both knew the time had one to autumn to lines duties. “Can you believe” Summer began as she completed he circle “the things that the humans come out with?” “What was it like this time?” Spring said, though she already knew. “Another I’ll do it tomorrow” Catch you later?” “You know, someone ought to tell that line is even fading; tomorrow is never promised.”

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