I've come to realize that my Muse is always there, always at my side ready to speak... except when I refuse to feed her. She needs sustenance! She needs input. She needs to be filled. Like everyone else I know, she cannot give what she doesn't have. Her hunger is voracious. And she has a wicked fast metabolism. Thus, the constant need for nourishment. I must feed the beast or she will never purr for me.
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I provide a constant buffet of nourishment
and she helps clean up the mess that is my thought process :)
It's beautiful, really.
I can wake early, or more likely, I can stay up all night, and write like mad. I can spend hours staring at my computer screen, willing the words to flow. I can sit with pen in hand and doodle countless flowers and stars and stick figures, listening for her wit and wonder to play across my pages. But if I do not first feed her a hearty diet of living life and experiencing the world, a diet rich in humor and sorrow, in sights and sounds, in tangible knowing; if I do not fill her to bursting with a voluminous vocabulary of exposure, she will never speak.
So I read... a lot. I talk... a lot. I observe... a lot. I listen to music... a lot. And occasionally, I watch movies... a lot. And she is happy.
It's symbiotic. When she thrives, I thrive.
*editorial note: a friend just pointed out to me that is, in fact, a rhino and not a hippo at all! Ha. I was searching for a picture of a hippo and this was the one I liked best. My brain has first-day-of-school fatigue, apparently.