Letting the Muse out
As a teenager I had an imaginary friend.
His name was Fred. He was tall and thin with shoulder length electric blue dreadlocks. I think, it all started one day when talking about whether we had invisible friends as children or not. The stories of a close, special relationship with their invisible friends made me feel as if I had missed out on something every kid should experience, so I made up Fred.
It was just a bit of fun but soon, he had a personality. I wrote Dear Fred at the beginning of each diary entry because he started to feel like a best friend who could hold all my secrets. When I went through a tough time, it was made easier because I could write out my problems to him.
During the time of Fred I also wrote a lot. Daily in fact. I had many manuscripts squirreled away and so many ideas I could hardly keep up. There was one story in particular which I knew would one day be published. It had a feel about it. I was passionate about it. I edited and re-edited and wrote and wrote until I knew the characters inside and out. Cain was going to be my breakout novel. I wasn’t even the only person who believed that.
I even likened him to my own Tyler Durden – a part of me, only I was aware of him not being taken over like the Narrator of Fight Club.
As I got older he started fading and as I started working and eventually found the love of my life, Fred disappeared. He wasn’t a required part of my life anymore. I didn’t notice him go and I wasn’t sad. In fact, it was many years post him leaving that I even realised.
Recently, in my art journaling journey through Book of Days with Effy Wild, I got to thinking about Fred again. It had come to a point where I had simply forgotten he had been. I seem to be great at that. The forgetting of things that were once important or big.
There was much talk in the Book of Day group about Muses. I read most of it with a detached interest. I didn’t have a muse, I didn’t really know what it meant or if they were real but I loved how the women spoke of them and of how they were inspired by the existence of their own.
I went about arting and reading until one day I suddenly found myself thinking of him, as if someone had whispered his name in my ear and all the memories of years gone by were shaken free. The connection between ‘Fred’ and ‘Muse’ was made subconsciously, but it made sense. I wrote, was productive and confident when that part of me was around and let loose.
These days, I dream of writing. I sign up for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, where you attempt to write a 50, 000 word novel in November) yearly and fail yearly. I have a tattoo that tells me to write, reminds me of my dreams and highlights my failures. I blog but that’s about as much writing as I ever get done.
So, I think it’s time for Fred to reenter my life. I am not sure what form he will take, an imaginary blue haired teenage boy might not be what I need to get my juices flowing.
I have to be honest, I don’t know how to unleash the muse and unlock all that inspiration. For now, I am NaNoing (this year I will win) and am going to start a new series on the blog that simply shares my newest projects (Smash/art journal/whatever) weekly, maybe a video or two and go from there. Monday’s Musing or Friday’s Muse – unsure which name/day I prefer.
It’s a way to make sure I am creating. Which is good for the soul.
I really hope this isn’t coming across as crazy as it seems as I write it…
Do you know what I’m talking about?
Do you have a muse?
Or do I just sound like a crazy person?
Linking up with the ever lovely Jess for #ibot