[flickr id=”6367108607″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”]I’m not schizophrenic, I’m a writer. ~Me.
A handful of years ago, before I started writing toward the goal of publication I took part in another form of creative endeavor. That’s how I met Jess, and how I got introduced (properly) to my muse. A group of us would sit around brainstorming, and one night one of us took it upon themselves to name all of our muses. I had to laugh at the muse she assigned me, Terpsichore. The muse of music and dance. Considering my previous life as a dancer/singer/theater person and the fact that I’d been in love with the musical Cats (where they mention Terpsichorian powers) – I thought it was perfect.
Since then Terps has been my (relatively) constant companion. When she’s not off getting drunk or high in Mexico, she’s presented me with some insane stories, and some awesome ones.
Along the way, a couple others have joined. The two ‘others’ are sort of shared between Jess and myself. As we often write together, they alternate who they wreak the most havoc with.
The older of the two is one we affectionately named Canada. Why? Because whenever the craziest crap went down in our stories we’d start singing “Blame Canada.”
The other is newer. Even more chaotic than Canada. And far more moody than every other muse. This one? This one appears to be a male and his name is simply “NoName.” Yes, you read that right. Never thought I’d see the day a man was moodier than a woman, but NoName pulls it off rather well.
In turns these creatures have inspired and terrorized me. Left me in tears and filled with joy. They are a part of me and speak to me as much as (if not more) than the characters they help me bring to life.
What about you? Have you named your muse? Do you have more than one?
We just talked about the way that the Spanish (artists of al l flavors) describe the muse. Actually, they don’t think of it that way – they have a different term, and I love it. It’s called “duende”. Google it. 🙂
Anyway, I don’t have a name for whatever it is that possesses me. I refer to it as the duende dragon…and all I can do is try to grasp it’s tail and not get crushed, spiked, or flung into a rock wall. Sometimes I get lucky and the dragon flings me up onto it’s back and takes me for a ride. More often tough it roars at me, breathes fire, or pins me down with one large clawed foot, points the tip of one of those razor sharp babies at my eye and growls until I comply and sit down in my chair and write.
@Jennifer James,
LOL. Well that’s definitely one way to see it too! I can understand that feeling you describe really well. some days it feels like that for me too.