By Pirin Ventpirnil
I am someone who harbors a good dose of both skepticism and fantasy. I would never suggest that you believe there is an actual muse who resides either in or out of your thoughts. However I would never suggest there wasn’t. Instead I suggest that you pretend there is regardless.
Referring to your muse can be very handy: It wasn’t you who needed the tatting bobbin — but her. It wasn’t you who decided to create four new Pinterest boards instead of working; she made you do it. See?
It may seem that pretending you have a muse could get you in a lot of trouble — like anything else — if taken too far... So a word of caution here; I assure you, your muse does not need donuts or shoes… or cigarettes. ( A glass of wine… well…)
I let my muse have her way with me, whenever she wants and I try to give her what ever she desires. If she wants to write about Sam Peckinpah and the nature of masculine imagery, even though I am supposed to be working on other things, I let her.
If she keeps nagging me about that faded, puce, velvet, box she wanted so badly but I refused her; I get on the phone, call the antique store in Virginia where she saw the damn thing, and have them send it.
If she needs to go to a museum, I turn the outing into an excuse to socialize with a neglected friend, and go. While at the museum if she wants me to pay attention to the Aztec wing (which I normally do not enjoy) I pay attention.
Yes at times she can be demanding, pricey and prone to sucking up my time, but I do not mind. As long as she comes to me often — allowing me the benefit of her expertise and the joy of her excitement — I will never mind. Because, save for that time I did liquid acid and listened to Darkside of the Moon on a headset in a tiny attic somewhere in Atlanta, being inspired is just about the best high I have ever experienced.
I have found the more readily I succumb to the muse the more willing she is to let me get to work when it is necessary and — this is the most important aspect — I am far more creative and successful at coming up with answers and ideas when I do.
Inspiration is the domain, the life-blood and the delight of the muse. It is she who wants you to get all of the things that appear useless but are inspirational. It is she who wakes you up in the middle of the night with an idea. It is she who allows you to put the pieces of the jigsaw together and arrive at that salient moment of connection and clarity.
There are probably many diverse ways of conjuring the muse here is one.
Simply read the following list of subservience every morning, attempting to follow the rules, while watching for her to appear:
I must always try to get what she wants
I must, whenever possible, stop what I am doing and answer her questions, writing down her thoughts
I must go where she wants to go, and do what she wants to do, when she calls
I must feed her constantly with sound, images, ideas and objects that she adores or is fascinated by
I must arrange my life in a way that will allow her to feel some freedom
I must accept that I will not always understand her motives but I must believe they are valid
I must always strive to manifest her ideas and influences into at least a few physical representations