SHE SHOUTS. Everyone needs someone they look to for inspiration and to roll out the red carpet for them. And that’s quite a big job and who wants it ugh. Muse is a term that is underused and undervalued. It has many meanings from goddess to ponderings to someone’s something something. A very Important Person once told me that I was one of my dearests muse and it sent me into raucous laughter at a time when nothing was funny and the inappropriateness of time and place made it all the more hilarious. First, no one says that. Ever. And my dearest sure wouldn’t ever have thought that or said it to IP. Pure fantasy. But what stuck with me was what a great thing it would be to be someone’s muse and I am up for the job. Bring it. Many of the great writers had muses and talked about them in their work. Of course Hemmingway and Fitzgerald were so stoned all the time their muses must have been saints to put up with their sh*t. Or understood you need to get inspiration from somewhere so have at it. Even writing a stupid a$$ blogue of one longgggg paragraph needs to come from an inner source. My Muse musings amuse me if no one else. (Although my millions of followers are cheering me on. I hear ya.). Too often our worth is measured through the eyes of another when we’ve got what it takes to be our own afflatus*. In mythology, there were nine Muses or goddesses to all those IPs and now I’m a ten! I got this.
*Google it. Your welcome.