I told you last night that I had lost the motivation to write but that I still loved writing. You told me that you could be my muse. “You could be” I replied. “What would you write about?” you asked. But the truth is, I wouldn’t know where to start. I have only ever written about one person, all the love songs and all the love poems and quotes were about him although he never knew; for a long time, that was what fueled my writing and it worked. And now my heart is tired.
Artistic inspiration is something I have to find within myself for the time being, otherwise, my life will be a series of gaining and then losing inspiration and I would rather that no-one be the focus of my writing for now. I cannot choose a muse and then be able to write fluently and beautifully because it doesn’t work like that. I could try but it wouldn’t be as good as it could be. It would be nice to have a muse, but it’s just difficult you know? My creativity has to come from me.
What if you become my muse and I can’t put you into words? I’m terrified of that. I don’t know how to write about you yet but I’m willing to learn. I want to learn everything about you – your hopes, dreams, fears and secrets, and the little things too like the way you look when you play your music and what makes you laugh and what your guilty pleasures are. I can’t wait to know more about you. I want to write about you forever and ever if that’s possible. When I sit down to write about you, I hope the words come easily and I hope I’m never stuck on what to write. Because how can I possibly write if I do not know my subject?
I hope that when I come to write about you, my mind doesn’t clamp up wanting to keep you all to itself. I cannot call myself a poet I’d I do not pour all my thoughts and feelings about you onto the page because no poem of mine would be so beautiful without you hidden between the lines. And I will hide you there, between the lines, because if anyone else reads about you I’m afraid they may start falling for you too. But you will still be there, inspiring me artistically in every line. As I write in my journal I will not dot the Is with hearts because it will be evident in my words that there is a hint of you. And as long as there’s a hint of you in my writing, I will read what I have written over and over again so the memory of you stays in my mind. With you in mind, I will share with the world things that speak to my heart and my soul, figuratively and abstractly within my work.
I write best when I am not thinking at all. When my unconscious mind is allowed to stream freely and I just go with whatever I am feeling. It is in those moments that my muse enlightens me and when my most enthralling words come to life. Then my conscious mind takes over to edit the words of the wild, the words previously untamed. It is up to my conscious mind to make sense of it all and to organise it in a way that people will understand.
You are art. And I will let myself be vulnerable to you. My words will be dipped into the feelings you give me and the thoughts you bring to my mind because it’s not easy to write about nothing. With every word I write, you will be drawn into my beating heart, but I will not entrap you there like a prisoner. You will be free to dance across the blank pages as long as I don’t run out of ink and I will dance with you. I hope you are okay with that amount of force you will have. When I write of you, I am holding you in the most elegant of ways. Just know that I am the poet, the creator, the artist, and I can find another muse if I have to. I will look to you when I want to be more creative but it is I that has to come up with the ideas; I will weave a story with you as my guide.
Translation: “I will be the poet, and you will be the poetry.” – François Coppée.
Read More: Paraluman