Muse Hymn Box
Kelson writes about the many outfits his muse wears
My Muse, she wears many outfits. Some blue, some gold, others lavender or rust. Each enabling another facet of my creation. Words placed into structures attempting to convey concepts and ideals. All as a means to get these stories, entries, poems and other writings out of my head and onto paper. She drives me occasional, to write, reminds me of the peace and accomplishment that my words bring to my own thoughts.
Usually she simply makes suggestions with her actions and her in-actions prompt my writing. Often she is there when I am down, bringing comfort and surcease to my sorrow. Many poems about care and affection she has brought out of my hands and intellect. Always since encountering her has she inspired me to write and encouraged me to write.
She lives inside me and exists outside of me. Part and parcel of interactions with people and places creating content. Inspiration dredged from old stories, pictures seen half glimpsed in the window of house driven past She is outside of me urging me with words and care to express myself in ways that suit me and my style of writing. Critiquing not criticizing my works.
Stories dredged from forgotten ideas, poems inspired by chance happening or small statues in windows, song lyrics bred by longing and hope for better lives all have some start in the prompting from my Muse. She has haunted my nights, caressed my days and filled my heart with connotations and denotations to spark others from my selections.
My Muse haunts my mind, my memory, my thoughts, my ideas, my life driving me to create and to modify what I create turning it all into stories, real and imaginary. This is the relationship I have with my Muse. For too many weeks at a time I will ignore her. Slowly sickening in my lack of writing and lack of creativity. Then I will get a burst and post stories and journal entries. Feeling better the more I post and put down into writing. Often I will be inspired and hand write my journals. Most of my poems have been composed by hand. That act of creation is helping to sustain me through life's trials as modern society makes demands on life.
She brings these thoughts, insights into life and living like this; I think too much rejection is the real root of our societies distress. We reject each other based on looks, intelligence, weight, gender, relationships, personalities and abilities. All of which drives some too far into the darkness and despair. From my own mind and heart it came from. Inspired by the muse within me and outside of me. Both of them working independently to drive me towards writing.
My Muse takes many shapes and sizes. Internally and externally she pokes and prods me into being more of a human and less of a creature existing here on the planet. For access to some of the places that inspire me here are a few links to sites outside of this one that inspire the muse.
Heather Blakey asserts the right to be identified as the author of this work