Most of us have our morning routines. I am no different. These habits serve to root us in the new day and we prepare ourselves for what comes next.
I begin with feeding our three dogs, then I make some tea (caffeine being a priority most mornings). Next I get online and post yesterday’s finished ACEO artwork on ebay (www.ebay.com/usr/monroart) and then I look for an interesting poem or piece of writing to print out and think over (to get my brain going). By now, the dogs are ready to go outside. While they do their thing, I sit on the patio, mull over the day’s poem for a while, and drink my tea.
If anyone had asked about how I start my day, that would have been my answer. But there is one more thing I have been doing for a while (I don’t know for how long) which surprised me once I noticed I was doing it. I stare at the white, plastered outside wall, where the patio meets the house, for some minutes. My mind goes blank until, since the human mind gets bored easily, all sorts of people and animals begin to appear on its rough surface. We all experience this when looking at a marbled counter top or a patterned floor tile for any length of time.
“This amuses me,” I thought to myself one morning and it suddenly occurred to me that this unadorned, rather retiring backyard wall had actually become, for me, a sort of muse.
When I hear the word ‘muse’, what comes to mind is something more along the lines of Picasso and his mistress, or Dante and Beatrice, so admitting my muse is a standard, everyday stuccoed wall, plain white no less, is a bit embarrassing. But it is.
Inspiration, I guess, can be animal, vegetable, or mineral. It can come in any shape or size. It can be exciting and revelatory or it can be so subtle, you don’t suspect a thing.