I am an open book, a page turner, a work in progress; not sure I have ever been a hard cover edition, more likely a paperback novel, with dog-eared pages that have notes in the margins and bent over pages to evoke memory. I was born that way, it seems and addicted to books, I have been ever since. They were my constant companions that I toted around, like other kids may drag teddy bears behind them; although I had plenty of stuffed animals to keep me company too.
I always welcome The Muse in whatever form she chooses to appear. Yesterday, on a car trip back from the Jersey shore, I was looking back onto my timeline and regaling my friend Ondreah with stories from my childhood. I asked her if she had memories about events from her youth. “Yes, but not like you do.” I can rattle off experiences as if they happened yesterday (even though there are times when I can’t recall why I entered a room and need to go back to the place where the original thought occurred.) and sometimes do it with lightning speed that have my friends shaking their heads in amusement at my ADHD sensibilities during which I go off on tangents. Glad I can provide comic relief for them.
The Muse appears in the same way; sometimes not even knocking, but rather, barging on in and posing in front of me, hands on hips, asking impudently “Well, are you just going to leave me standing here, or do I need to muscle my way through until you pay attention? ” and all I can do is take dictation. Never in a million years would I turn her down. What she has to offer is too precious to deny her. She has never steered me wrong and in fact, has offered inspiration that was directly channeled from the Beyond.
I have come to accept that there are times when I need to jot ideas down like so many dreams images that may dissolve, if I want to be able to write about them later on. Notebook and purple pen at the ready! Gone are the days when I can wave them away, saying “Nah, I’ll remember them,” since often I don’t. I had heard a story about gravely voiced singer-songwriter Tom Waits who had been driving on the L.A. Freeway when The Muse came ‘a calling and he emphatically stated that he didn’t have pen and paper to write down the inspired ideas, so she needed either to go away and come back when he did have writing utensils or visit someone else. Not sure which song he wrote as a result. Maybe it was this one…since it is one of my favorites.
http://youtu.be/ZSe2k3P8wRE I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love With You-Tom Waits