Anyway, I’ve been jawing on something. It’s how I felt after my last book, ExtraOrdinary was launched out into the reading-sphere. My fresh-faced feeling of being published had lost some of its gloss. I figured that it might have something to do with my having lived under so many moon phases.
“Hey Muse, what do you think?”
I think that one reason, for these feelings, is that my Ego, which was one of the driving forces, has lost some its influence.
And lately, when I knock on the basement door, he often doesn’t answer.”
***
“In the stillness of one’s being is the centre of Creation
there I am the camera, the image.”
Louise Nevelson
I often don’t know what I’d say to my Muse, if he did climb the stairs to find out what smart idea I had to pitch.
I know this. My Muse is no friend of my Ego.
You see, my Muse doesn’t give two ships about marketing.
And there’s another thing I’ve noticed about my Muse. He’s getting more unruly as I get older. I was taught to write, no matter how I feel. Grind my teeth into powdered enamel, if I have to, but write, write, write. Make a schedule. Find a set room to hammer on the keyboard. Pound the crap out of the keyboard. Almost every day. Even if the words look and smell like a dog park.
“To dream within the mist of one’s own accomplishments is to allow the true essence of life to find all its destiny.”
Quote by John Williams
For example, I remember a fella telling me that he’d read a story in one of my books. He’d said, “I didn’t like it.”
He thought the main character was crazy. It upset him.
My ego went into a hissy fit.
Some readers told me that my novel was difficult to read. Not a big surprise. It isn’t about Dick and Jane having a good time at their summer cottage.
I trust my Muse because he sometimes hangs out with my Soul.
And, can my Ego ever get jealous.
You might think, why does my Muse live in the basement? That’s just my Muse. Give him all the niceties of a place and he’d be no good to anybody.
“The first will be last and the last will be first.”
Luke 13:30
Not to my Muse. I mention this to my Muse and he’ll give me his quirky little sideways look, probably say nothing and then dramatically ignore me. I get it. I get it.
I worry, maybe neurotically, that my Muse, when it’s buffeted by all the pressures that try to make it sit, roll-over, be silent, or play dumb, that it will become domesticated. But, I’ve learned that it’s one of the strongest forces in Creation. I think it’s because of its connection with the SL.
I love books. I love to touch books. I love the pictures on the front and the back of books. Such a pleasure to turn the pages, feel the flimsiness of the paper and to think of the strength and resiliency of the words that are on the pages.
I also need to write because I want to try and touch people in a deep way. I don’t think Ego has so much to do with that. It feels more like I’m doing something that is the right thing for me to do.
However, I’m also proud of them. I know that they came from a solid, soulful need to hang on. To spit into some very blustery winds.
And if you are lucky enough, as I was, you might meet a person, such as my partner Susan. She understood this energy that fills the universe. She understood what drove me. She respected and honoured my, often disruptive Creative Muse.
How can I not love a person who understands the need to stay in touch with their Muse and its omnipresent connections?
And, surprise, surprise. My Muse, believe it or not, just a minute ago, bounded up the stairs, opened the door and said, “Way to go! You’re feeling it. Take a break. Let’s go get a beer.”
“No,” I said. “Let’s get a cold Iced Cap.”
“Art is a Universal love affair for me and I’m in love with Art.”
Louise Nevelson