Friday, March 16, 2007

Inexplicable Moments of Connection

I used to smile and nod politely when other authors spoke of their muses, before turning away so they wouldn't see my eyebrows stretching high in amused disbelief. One writer friend goes so far as to serve her muse up with gourmet coffee in a special cup each and every morning that she sits down to write. Another buys her muse pretty little things, a glass bead, a pretty feather. "How... odd," I would think to myself, totally not getting it. I didn't believe for a minute that they thought of their muses as real entities. I mean, we are living in the twenty-first century. Surely such eccentricities went out with all of the modern technological advances and scientific wisdom.


Inspiration does have a way of striking at the strangest times. An unusual turn of phrase in the middle of a conversation remembered later might spark a whole new way of thinking. A snippet of lyric in a song you've heard a thousand times suddenly takes on new meaning. The way the sun parts an unusual cloud formation, casting a strange ad eerie light on the landscape below. An article highlighting the quirks and peculiarities of modern life. Someone you see out of the corner of your eye.

Then there are the dreams.

I have been known to have the rare precognitive dream {always on subjects trivial, though, darn it!}, but far more often I have dreams that are... different from the garden-variety ventures into Wonderland. Dreams where I am not me, where I am not in the here and now, but some faraway place. They are vivid and detailed glimpses into the lives of other people, their motivations, their heartbreak, their desires. Their stories. Sometimes I'm an invisible bystander witnessing the events, sometimes I look out through the eyes of someone there, experiencing it first hand. Sometimes I'm not even female. I've used some of these, while others I have stored for other projects, somewhere down the line. It feels right to do that. Somehow I feel I'm being allowed to see so "they" will have life once more.

So, might it be a being of creativity bestowing these lovely nuggets of inspiration upon me? Or am I connecting the dots on some vast unseen web of creative material? Jumping from one thought dimension to the next? As a wise man once said, "We are all connected."... but how?

You'll have to excuse me now. An old friend is waiting for a sweet cup of tea, served up fresh, with love, from me.

Love to all,

Mad {madly!}

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