Lovely Muse, lovely, lovely, lovely
Once I dreamt that my muse visited me and told me her name. We were standing on a lonely cliff and the sea was pounding below us. She was very tall, very blonde, and very Greek in her white toga and laurels (she looked a little like Jean Kasem). She told me her name was Benedictine. Can't argue with that.
Now look at the Kaballah meaning of the word: http://store.yahoo.com/hlsl/benedict.html.
Pretty cool, huh? I knew it meant something like "to speak well" or "good voice." I had no idea it was so rich and layered.
Anyway, the point of this spiritualistic meandering is that B. was whispering in my ear last night. It was three in the morning (her favorite time to visit -- and I don't dare complain). I woke up and padded out to the upstairs landing, where I sat on the first step and leaned my head against the iron pole of the circular staircase. My neurotic cat, Tally, surprised me by being affectionate, so I loved on her while I thought. And thought. And thought.
And opened my eyes and drew in a breath and knew. I knew lots and lots of things. About my story, about my characters, about the plot and where it's headed. It is deeper and more beautiful than I ever dreamed, and I'm so proud. My fingers are itching to write it, but I'm still going to wait. When the itch becomes unbearable, like poison ivy on the inside of my bones, then I'll know it's time. Until then, I wait... and listen. Who knows what my blessed Voice will bring me today?
Lovely Muse, lovely, lovely, lovely. All hail, Benedictine. Visit me whenever you want, Babe. I'm ready and willing.
Now look at the Kaballah meaning of the word: http://store.yahoo.com/hlsl/benedict.html.
Pretty cool, huh? I knew it meant something like "to speak well" or "good voice." I had no idea it was so rich and layered.
Anyway, the point of this spiritualistic meandering is that B. was whispering in my ear last night. It was three in the morning (her favorite time to visit -- and I don't dare complain). I woke up and padded out to the upstairs landing, where I sat on the first step and leaned my head against the iron pole of the circular staircase. My neurotic cat, Tally, surprised me by being affectionate, so I loved on her while I thought. And thought. And thought.
And opened my eyes and drew in a breath and knew. I knew lots and lots of things. About my story, about my characters, about the plot and where it's headed. It is deeper and more beautiful than I ever dreamed, and I'm so proud. My fingers are itching to write it, but I'm still going to wait. When the itch becomes unbearable, like poison ivy on the inside of my bones, then I'll know it's time. Until then, I wait... and listen. Who knows what my blessed Voice will bring me today?
Lovely Muse, lovely, lovely, lovely. All hail, Benedictine. Visit me whenever you want, Babe. I'm ready and willing.
posted by Tierant at Sunday, January 02, 2005
2 Comments:
That's beautiful. Those precious moments of being filled by it, made joyful by it, the contents of our creative soul...priceless, and the whole reason for living.
Huzzah for Tierney -- and for Benedictine!
Did you know that thtere is a liquor called Benedictine made by swiss monks or some such thing from a mixture of herbs? It's very bitter yet extremely intoxicating -- what an apt name for a muse.
Can't wait to see the result -- but you knew that.
Very well written post, BTW.
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