A Muse Me

Did you ever look at a piece of art or listen to a section of music and wonder of its origins and inspirations? Did you ever want to claim it for your own, not as the composer or writer but as it’s inspiration? Did you ever stand back and look for your reflection in the streams of colour or words and looking to see yourself as a Lear or even a Gaia.

Sometimes notes strike a chord that resonates so clearly on a personal level that you want to wrap yourself around it so that no-one else can drink it in. But conversely, what if the reflection of that inspiration is too murky or painfully sharp. Like a burning wreckage on the side of the road that you can’t look away from and it’s Eris or Apateo that sneers back viciously from the twists in melting glass.

Sometimes its wiser to remain a spectator. Simpler to just enjoy the art and try not to consider the big picture. Sometimes it’s better to just be happy with being one of a million strings that draws something together that to selfishly gather it to yourself and find you’ve been fated to be the Magpie in the corner.

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