Something writers talk about is “the muse”. What is a muse? Good question.
A muse is:
Here’s a little snippet for your Friday enjoyment. This is Rita Hayworth, playing Terpsichore, in a horrible movie called Down to Earth.
Wikipedia.com says this about the movie: Hayworth stars as the Muse Terpsichore who is annoyed that popular Broadway producer Danny Miller (Parks) is putting on a play which portrays the Muses as man-crazy tarts fighting for the attention of a pair of Air Force pilots who crashed on Mount Parnassus (in mythology, the Muses lived on Mount Helicon). She asks permission from Mr. Jordan to go to Earth and fix the play. Jordan agrees and sends Messenger 7013 (Horton) to keep an eye on her.
Lest you think I secretly worship Greek gods or believe in mythology, let me assure you that I don’t. I will say that this week, writing-wise, has felt like fumbling forward in the dark. My muse – whatever that looks like – has not made much of an appearance. I pray and ask God what He’d like to focus on for the day. I confess that sometimes my emotions make it hard to hear. As I down my now-cold coffee, I consider this.
Creativity ebbs and flows. Feelings don’t come on command. I need to do my part to shake up my routine and let inspiration strike. I can walk more and get outside. I can consider different perspectives on life. Things are in a state of flux in several areas. I find myself constantly readjusting in order to stay upright. Like Larry Parks of Down to Earth, I need a visitation. I’ll take an annoyed muse over nothing.
I think more than a creative thunderclap, I need more of the Lord. Anytime now.