Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a Muse in the wardrobe. A little creature that is hard-wired to your inner creative that you can take off its hanger and plug in to waft around your space like a visionary air freshener, inspiring as you respire making the process of conceiving and forming as easy as pie. Failing that, I suppose we all have a mechanism that works in a sort of a way and for me the sort of a Muse is generally a mountain or some water. Up at 7,000 feet plus in the pre-Alps of the Belledonne mountains above Grenoble you find lakes. The ones in the picture are called les Lacs Roberts. Align them to a perfect sky (note the sticky candy clouds in the otherwise perfect blue – imperfection is perfection I always feel) and something in me soars and sparkles and I feel the inspiration bubble. Whether it makes any sense to anyone else or whether it is just garbled rubbish is neither here nor there – the fact is that my soul is free and light. It’s a start.
PS: The title is from a song called Supermassive Black Hole …. My husband is another sort of muse for me though I don’t keep him in a wardrobe on a hanger – he of the two brains who has been working to get the first images of M87 a common or garden supermassive black hole and looks to the stars for his muse (when he’ not looking to me of course!) The song is by The Muse … it amused me. Here is is: