inspiration = pump up the volume
inspiration is a fickle mistress, and i want her to be my bestie sooo fuckin bad! kinda like phyllis, who has lots of a-muse-ing qualities. sometimes she strikes like a lightning bolt, other times she's more like a sluggish sloth.
my muse seems to thrive on midnight potions (my holy trinity of caffeine, cannabis, sugar) and chaotic energy. so, when the creative well runs dry, i embrace the leftover weirds. i indulge in some freaky shit. maybe i’ll find myself rearranging a crystal grid at 4am, grazing on leftover soosh/pizza while listening to cruelty-free organic whale/narwhal rap duels with caffeinated beats. 😂
i might cover myself in glitter and dance under the moonlight, channeling my boobs’ inner disco balls, and my whole self’s inner disco stu on radioactive coke while drinking andy warhol’s gangrenous (but rarified and lovely) blood on the dick slide at studio 54.
the point is to break the rut: either go wild-ass, or create a new routine. embrace randomness, or give yourself very fine prompts in art, music, design, crafting. check what people just like you were doing 100 years ago. guess how something current might be interpreted in 100 years. for me… every portrait begins with a smiley face. every novel begins with a stack of notes that are often just single words - no sentences - or combos of emojis. but hey! that’s me!
however it happens — experiment in your life. take the scenic way someplace. “eat your cereal with a fork, and do your homework in the dark.” try to discover whatever strange concoctions your muse craves… hell, set out the buffet!

Comments
Post a Comment