Musings on a Muse

I think I’ve clicked with an ancient practice. Or the modern european bastardization of a cultural practice. It’s hard to separate the traditional views we have from what we now know as factual history. Like having Vikings with horns or dinosaurs without feathers. It’s become part of the art. There’s nothing wrong with depicting things more realistically, but the converse is also true. It’s not out of the question to freely admit you’re ignoring facts because you’re making art. Fiction is fiction. So when I say I understand the idea of a Muse, I’m not claiming it’s what the ancient greeks believed. It’s what our modern interpretation of a Muse is. And that I think I have a grasp of.

Art comes from our brains. Magic isn’t real. The gods don’t exist. Yada yada yada.

There hasn’t been a point in time where someone actually saw a half-deity warrior or a dragon. Stories got told, miscommunication happened and myths were born. The storytellers magnified the fantastical elements to make better stories. The muses themselves are creation of the artist, yet the artist calls out to them for inspiration. It seems unlikely that every artist who invoked them genuinely believed in them. They knew it wasn’t some attractive mate who’d come to their bedchambers because… well because that never happened. To any of them. Not a once. So of course it was metaphoric; metaphors are what the artist knows best. They call out to this inner force welling up inside of them. Swirls of brain chemistry exciting random parts of the brain.

They’ve always been the key. You must feel strongly, passionately, intensely, to make art. Take what I said in High’s and Lows, and combine it with Love is the Answer to Consciousness. The artist needs those highs and lows. Love is by far the best avenue to experience an unrivaled emotional trip. The artist is fueled by those low points because they’re striving for that high plateau. Knowing it’s merely a short term destination is something that must be accepted. Without the drop back down, the art won’t come back.

So I get Muses. It’s the artist feeding off of someone’s energy. Not in a bad way mind you, in that magnifying way people can spiral high on. Of course they tend to have a sexual overtone but it’s not necessary; sex is intimately linked with love, for most of us. If the person isn’t in that “most of us” and not driven by sex, it will be something else equivalent (like religious fervor). The Muse will take the form of whatever the artist is most attracted to. It can be a force of nature or a similar concept but it is more likely to be physically manifest in a person. We’re wired to love other humans so it’s the easiest thing to fall in love with. The fact that the muse is a person can be a problem though. Their relationship to the artist can’t be an ideal relationship. The artist needs that low point. The Muse is most effective when near but simultaneously far. They pull the artist to greater heights, pushing them to hone their craft. Accelerating their mind far beyond what they would ever be capable of.

Er something like that. I guess. I dunno, I’m just rambling.


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