My muse visited me last night. She has been fleeting and evasive as of late, and her sudden pop- in actually surprised me. And yes, as always, my muse was, is and always will be a pleasant surprise. She comes and goes and never really stays. An interventionist, my muse, that’s her.I don’t think I have ever talked about her here. I’ll try to do it today. Pardon the shallow words I will be using my dear muse. You don’t deserve these trivial and petty sketch that I will do of you today.
As all writers and artists (which I like to associate with and consider myself to be one, thank you very much), I have my quirks, moods and temper that even I cant seem to understand. Much less control, if you know what I mean. When I write, I have to be in a particular mood which is beyond words to describe. As if in a limbo, strange emotions mix together to make me feel something like a combination of being thrilled, poignant, exultant and animated. Everything happens in a reflex. Writing becomes automatic. Sometimes I feel like its my fingers doing the thinking. In engulfs and swallows me whole while it stretches me thin at the same time. At the end of it, I would feel spent yet satiated. These, among all others are what my muse does to me whenever she visits.
Other writers talk about having writer’s block. I’ve had my share of that too. I define it as the time when my muse refuses to reveal itself. She hides in the cupboards. She veils herself beneath my curtains. And she holes herself under the bed. During these times, no matter how hard or pathetically I beg her to show a glimpse, my muse holds back. She remains stubborn and strong -willed, uncompromising and selfish. And I end up staring at blank walls and white screens – numb, unfeeling. Zombified.
So you see, my muse and I have a love – hate relationship. It has been this way for so long that I wonder if I would ever get to keep her for good. On most occasions I have almost given up on her. It seems like for the longest time, I have been chasing her and I have come no closer in capturing my most elusive inspiration.
But you see, last night the muse visited me. I was on my way to work, and just a few seconds before I stepped inside the cab, I had the sudden impulse to write. I didn’t have anything in mind, nothing concrete really. But my muse egged me on, not wanting me to lose the momentum. She wasn’t very patient, and during the 5 minute ride to the office, she has threatened to run off yet again. I couldn’t afford that. I could let her escape this time, after such a long time of waiting. So when I got to the office, this post was the first thing I did.
She’s left now. So end of post. Until then.
