Don't call me slow

I finally understand the whole concept of an artist date. Now, don’t call me slow. I know it’s taken me awhile to get it, but realize that you’re talking to the ultimate pragmatist. Therefore, I’ve always been a tangible results kind of girl.

The idea of feeding the muses is a new one for me because, quite frankly, I starved the little foundlings for so long I’m surprised they recognized me at all. I fed them slowly at first – painting a room an interesting color, giving myself permission to lay around and daydream. Then, I began to tentatively type my stories. The muses sat up. They liked it – the color, the daydreams, the stories. The bland food, the slow feeding began to fatten them up and give them energy.

Eventually, they said, “More.”

I tried to give it to them. I tried to do the artsy things that artsy types are supposed to enjoy – museums, antique shops, quaint little stores tucked into quaint little places, crafts.

The muses yawned forgivingly for awhile and politely told me it was nice, that it was the thought that counted.

I worried. Wasn’t I doing the things that creative types were supposed to enjoy?

I was a little bored, but the muses liked it, right?

“Uh, no,” they said. “Not at all.”

When I didn’t get it, they rebelled. Nice. (Not really.) What they did was appalling to the struggling writer I’d become. They stopped handing up pages. They told me what I wrote wasn’t quite right. They fed me confusing images. They said enough bread and butter, and we don’t like the plain cakes you’re shoving at us. We want the good stuff. Eclairs, Sopaipillas, Killer Cake.

They really wanted fattening up in specific ways. Ways that were unique to me. Ways that really spoke to what I’m all about. They wanted me to remember the things that once fed them long ago before I abandoned them to practical, sane, prudent pursuits.

They wanted equal time with responsibility and duty.

Oh dear.

I’ve recently had the good fortune to recall exactly what it is the muses crave. Hikes in mountains, travel, physical challenge just because it’s there, traversing a hillside or a plain on horseback, a good movie on the DVD player, organized sacred areas, big plans, hot coffee in quaint cafes for long breaks from reality.

You see, an artist date isn’t about what you’re supposed to like as an artist. It’s about what you do like as an artist. Quite frankly, I’ve never been one for art museums. What do I like? Being outdoors. Quite cafes with good coffee. Late dinners in cozy atmospheres with ample red wine and close friends. Pajamas and movies under the covers on rainy days. Horseback riding. Decorating my new office space. Going to bookstores with absolutely no purpose in mind. Traveling to places I haven’t been. Live music. Sunrises.

When you demand the muses create daily, you need to give back to them. All work and no play just doesn’t cut it. Sometimes, however, that’s hard to remember. Between jobs that pay the bills and making (not finding – it’s harder than that) time to write and trying to get enough rest to function, soul feeding gets left out sometimes.

I have new priorities now.

First, finish the book and start the next one – whatever that happens to be.
Second, listen to the muses so I’ll know what we both need, then give it to us.
Third, remember on a daily basis that life is too short to be pragmatic, sane and dutiful all the time.
And finally, be true to the vision of who I am, to my voice, to my dreams and my desires and my paths for getting there.

Macy

I have a new little space where I can dream big and where I can make it happen. I have some big spaces that
inspire me. Here are some pics – just thought I share.