Member-only story
The Muse
Part of the ‘Spandrel Spaces’ Series
The muse arrived, and it was nothing short of miraculous. She had been skirting the periphery of my consciousness all day, igniting a spark within me, urging me forward. She opened a gateway to my deepest selves, compelling me to persist. There’s a sensation, a gradual overtaking that inspires an inner smile, and an irresistible urge to grasp a pen, a brush, a palette knife, to spread a canvas before me.
Part of the ‘Spandrel Spaces’ Series
Thought becomes unnecessary; it’s a direct conduit from the cosmos through my brain to my hands. She channels this creative force through me — my hands, my brush, my palette knife — translating it onto the canvas where the paint flows precisely as intended. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. It’s exhilarating, transcendent, and infused with a tantric energy that demands complete presence in the moment.
Part of the ‘Spandrel Spaces’ Series
I’m not merely reproducing the known; I’m unleashing something indefinable. This process, this practice of intentionally welcoming the muse, has transformed my life. I am eternally grateful to my muse, whom I have summoned throughout my existence, and who has…